Canada

September 2016

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I hadn’t been to Canada for 30 years. I had last spent time there in the summer of 1986 building a road in the town of Revelstoke in British Columbia, followed by a 60 hour non-stop hitch to Ontario via the USA. Wendy had never been to Canada and I had never been east of Toronto so when I found return flights with WestJet for £304, it seemed a good opportunity to have another road trip.

I always assumed that as British citizens, we didn’t need visas to visit Canada, but a friend who was just over there told me about the new electronic visa (like the American ESTA). It only cost $7 Canadian Dollars and was done on line and issued in 10 minutes. This had been in place since June 2016. I only found out the day before we flew!

Our flights were hand luggage only, but we could check on a suitcase for £12.67 for both flights. You paid for anything extra on board – meals, limited movies, drinks etc. We took off on Saturday September 17 at 13.15am from London Gatwick. It seemed strange to leave home at a civilised time and drive to an airport in daylight. The 8 hour plus flight passed by and we landed on Toronto around 4.30pm (local time).

Toronto airport was a nightmare. Even before reaching the immigration hall, we were held back “for our safety” because it was packed. There were hardly any staff on to cope with the passenger amounts – either that or a shift change. They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to start checking passports. Consequently, we spent a tiring hour snaking around a packed hall. Not what you need after a long flight. I met someone later who had arrived earlier in the day and they went straight through. Go figure.

I had booked a rental car with Budget. We had to find the office, then queue, then find the car and check it over. It was still light when we left the airport but my estimated departure of 5.30pm turned out to be 6.45pm. I had booked a Bed and Breakfast near Cobourg 80 miles east of the airport but now we would have to find it in the dark.

Toronto, the largest city in the country was the same as ever, an urban sprawl with massive highways dissecting it. I found the Highway 401 easily from the airport and this took us east through heavy but moving traffic all the way to Cobourg. Darkness fell. I got the correct turn off for Cobourg but it was impossible to read street signs. I found one I was looking for but it said West instead of East. I took it and it turned into the East section. Somehow we found the remote BythePond Bed and .Breakfast . It helped that they had a stack of electric lights around the entrance which made it stand out. I think it was 9.30pm by the time we arrived. We were welcomed by an old couple. The former consultant was a spritely 82 years old. His wife, a children’s author was 76. It was a real old fashioned home with old furniture. They made us tea and chatted until we made our excuses. We were tired and had been up for nearly 24 hours.

The Rough Guide summarises Canada as “The home of ice hockey, the Niagara Falls and maple syrup. Above all Canada is a land of stunningly beautiful landscapes.” It is the second largest country in the world (after Russia) and the UK could fit into Canada 41 times though much of this expanse is sparsely populated It is also the 11th largest economy in the world.

Canadian Background: The CIA website says it is “A land of vast distances and rich natural resources, Canada became a self-governing dominion in 1867, while retaining ties to the British crown. Economically and technologically, the nation has developed in parallel with the US, its neighbour to the south across the world's longest international border. Canada faces the political challenges of meeting public demands for quality improvements in health care, education, social services, and economic competitiveness, as well as responding to the particular concerns of predominantly francophone Quebec. Canada also aims to develop its diverse energy resources while maintaining its commitment to the environment.

With a population around 35 million, the vast majority of Canadians are positioned in a discontinuous band within approximately 300 km of the southern border with the United States; the most populated province is Ontario, followed by Quebec and British Columbia. It is a federal parliamentary democracy (Parliament of Canada) under a constitutional monarchy; a Commonwealth realm.

As a high-tech industrial society in the trillion-dollar class, Canada resembles the US in its market-oriented economic system, pattern of production, and high living standards. Since World War II, the impressive growth of the manufacturing, mining, and service sectors has transformed the nation from a largely rural economy into one primarily industrial and urban. In addition, the country's petroleum sector is rapidly expanding, because Alberta's oil sands significantly boosted Canada's proven oil reserves. Canada now ranks third in the world in proved oil reserves behind Venezuela and Saudi Arabia and is the world’s fifth-largest oil producer. Canada is the US's largest foreign supplier of energy, including oil, gas, and electric power, and a top source of US uranium imports.

Given its abundant natural resources, highly skilled labour force, and modern capital plant, Canada enjoyed solid economic growth from 1993 through 2007. Buffeted by the global economic crisis, the economy dropped into a sharp recession in the final months of 2008, Canada's major banks, however, emerged from the financial crisis of 2008-09 among the strongest in the world, owing to the early intervention by the Bank of Canada and the financial sector's tradition of conservative lending practices and strong capitalization”

Sunday Sept 18

A healthy breakfast was enjoyed with a couple of Dutchmen. We exchanged views about England’s exit from the European Community and about our visits to the Netherlands. Wendy bought a couple of the children’s books. The couple were off to cycle the Terry Fox fundraising event so we had an excuse to get going. They were closing down the B&B in a couple of weeks permanently so I can’t even recommend it.

We found our way back to Route 401 and continued east past Kingston (where rocker Bryan Adams grew up). The landscape was flat with short forests on either side. Eventually we turned north and made for Ottawa. Somewhere we saw a Walmart and stocked up with road food. We also discovered that Canadian supermarkets do not sell alcohol. You have to go to special liquor shops, what we would call an off-licence. Later on we pulled off the freeway and found a side road to have a picnic.

Ottawa is the country’s cosmopolitan capital of around a million inhabitants. Almost all of Ottawa’s major sights are clustered on or near the south bank of the Ottawa River. It was chosen as the capital by Queen Victoria in 1857 after looking at landscape paintings even though Toronto and Montreal had better claims.

The centre was dominated by the monumental Victorian architecture of Parliament Hill which is a trio of neo Gothic buildings that make up today’s Parliament. Perched high above the Ottawa River on a limestone bluff, the buildings looked distinctly ecclesiastical with spires, pointed windows and a soaring clock tower. Begun in 1859, it took 70 years to complete both a statement of intent for the emerging country and a demonstration of the long reach of the British Empire. The Centre block houses the Senate and House of Commons. This is a 1916 replacement for the original that burnt down. The ‘Peace Tower’ was added in 1927 as a tribute to Canadians who served in World War One.

Entering a sleepy Ottawa mid Sunday afternoon, the traffic was light and we could park near the Parliament complex (under the watchful eye of armed policemen sitting in large vehicles). The complex could have been set in England and you wouldn’t know it came from Canada.

The National Gallery of Canada occupied a cleverly conceived building whose glass reflected the turrets and pinnacles of Parliament Hill across the river. A huge black spider sculpture guarded the entrance. We drove around Ottawa and warmed to it and planned to stay at a hotel but heading east, we saw no hotels and just kept driving. Before we knew it, we were heading for Montreal. We decided to return to Ottawa on the way back to Toronto.

Outside Montreal we found a Comfort Inn. The reception area was a construction site and had been relocated to a small room. Our room was nice but the breakfast area was problematic. The toaster in the corridor didn’t work, neither did the waffle machine and the coffee flask had run out. We could cope and found enough to eat but had to listen to an older woman just complain loudly to no one in particular about everything that was possibly wrong with everything in the hotel. I wanted to say “If life is this bad – why not kill yourself?” but she would have probably complained about the suicide method not working either. I chatted to a businessman. He said he hadn’t been here in two years and that they had started to rebuild the reception area then as well. “What else do you expect from French builders?” he laughed.

Monday Sept 19

We had left Ontario and entered the province of Quebec which covers one million square kilometres. This is the only French speaking society in North America. The province was ceded to the British in 1759 but the Quebecois were allowed to maintain their language and Catholic tradition. The island metropolis of Montreal is Canada’s second largest city and the world’s second largest French speaking city after Paris. Quebec produces ¾ of the world’s maple syrup.

The 1976 Olympic stadium (‘Stade Olympique)’ was the only one sight we wanted to see and it was located east of the city centre. It was not completed in time for the games and the 2 billion dollar price tag took 30 years to pay off. It contained the highest inclined tower in the world (190m at a 45 degree angle) which was erected to hold a retractable 65 tonne roof but the retraction process never really worked properly.

What we discovered was that not only was the Olympic stadium not finished on time, they still haven’t finished the city itself. It was one enormous construction site of new roads being built or repaired, endless diversion signs and just lines of bottlenecked traffic. I think ‘Montreal’ means ‘Not Built Yet’ in French. It was a nightmare. Coming into the city, I followed a detour around a new highway being built. The detour went on and on and 30 minutes later, I arrived back where I had stared. Doh!

While the Olympic stadium was impressive, Montreal’s road system was not. The biggest problem is that it is on an island. There are a couple of bridges and a tunnel to get on and off the island. The port seemed to attract every truck in the country like a magnet to have their containers loaded onto container ships. There were so many trucks that these were lined up all over the place, also slowing down progress. We were trying to head south and eventually, despite a complete lack of traffic signs we found it and crossed under the St Lawrence River. But on the other side, I could not see the road we were looking for, took a slip road and we came back under the river via the tunnel to then sit behind a line of trucks trying to get into the port. Doh! squared. On the second attempt of using the tunnel, I guessed the road and got it right. We had spent a total of 4 hours driving around Montreal for 10 minutes at the Olympic stadium. Never again.

The Eastern Townships (Cantons de l’ Est) begin 80km southeast of Montreal and extend to the US border. They were settled by Empire loyalists hounded out of the USA after the American Revolution. Their loyalty to the Crown resulted in freehold land being given out and the townships were consequently named after English places.

“Lush rolling hills, crystal clear blue lakes and checkerboard farms” (Lonely Persons Guide) fill the area. It was very rural and once we left Highway 10, the narrow roads twisted around wonderful lakes. The serene, leafy township of Lac Brome named after the lake in its centre, encompassed several hamlets, the most inviting of which was the tiny Knowlton. We were too early for its ‘Duck Festival’ but there were plenty of wooden ducks advertising it. There was an old stone church, the town hall and post office all from the early 19th century. Apart from the wooden houses, it could have been an English village. Douglas Beach just outside was a lovely spot to park and enjoy the lakeside scenery.

Lac Memphremagog was a large banana shaped lake (44km long) further west and the summer resort town of Magog sat by its side. Like Loch Ness in Scotland, the lake supposedly has a monster called ‘Memphre’ which has been a legend here since 1798. As we approached the town, a lengthy Canadian freight train crossed in front of us. I counted 175 carriages and it had been passing through before we even got to the crossing. We found the ‘O Bois Dormant’ B&B which was a lovely 1889 Queen Anne house, a towering Victorian residence with a breezy veranda. They had one room left. The Iranian/French landlady had furnished the house with both Iranian and French furniture and was very welcoming. Recommended.

Tuesday Sept 20

After a unique breakfast of our host’s home cooking, we pottered on to Lake Massawippi which is 19km long and the tiny town of North Hatley where “the unique flavour of the Magog region – Anglophone pride and gorgeous lakes – really come together” (Rough Guide) and a place that “wins top honours as the cutest of all the cute Eastern Townships” (Lonely Persons Guide). Sitting at the northern tip of the lake, it was a nice little hamlet with lots of flowers hanging down from pots on white wooden fences. We sat outside a ‘chocolatier’ sipping hot chocolates in the sun before heading off to Sherbrook. We came across a small covered wooden bridge that had been built to allow a local mine to transport its products across a small river. I suppose you could spend days exploring all these villages and it would be a great area to cycle around but we were just looking to get a taste of the area.

We took Route 55 to Drummondville and then Highway 20 all the way to Quebec City. Outside the city, we came across a surprise called ‘La Riviere Claudiere et sa chute’. This was a grand waterfall where the river had carved a gorge through the Canyon Sainte-Anne and tumbled 74m over a cliff. It was a large mass of water. There was also a long suspension bridge for splendid views and walking routes around it.

It was an easy approach into Quebec City – one road that took us through an old suburb of large wooden residences and straight towards the centre where the Old City was located. The regal provincial capital is perched impressively above and alongside the narrowing of the St Lawrence River. It is also the most easterly point that connects the north and south shores of the river. After Quebec you have to catch a ferry.

Old Quebec City (Vieux Quebec) is Canada’s most historic one and is the only walled city in North America. In 1759 during the Seven Years War, the most significant battle in Canada’s history took place here between the British under General James Wolfe and the French. The British won and started to dominate Canada. Quebec was left to the French and over 90% of its 750000 inhabitants are still French speaking.

The Rough Guide said that the old city had “Winding cobbled streets flanked by 17th and 18th Century stone houses and churches, graceful parks, squares and various monuments.” We were surprised that we could drive into the old city, find 10 minute car parking spaces and dash around taking photos. It is a World Heritage site, but I felt that it had been modernised too much to retain any of the historical side of the old town. Even the city walls had been redesigned to allow traffic through. The Lonely Person’s Guide said that the old city contained the continent’s first parish church, first museum, first stone church, first Anglican cathedral, first girl’s school, first French language university, first hospital “in some form” (i.e. nothing of the originals remained).

It seemed to be a Disney-fied version of old Quebec City to get the tourists in to spend their money. But maybe I am being cynical. It did have a nice ambience. The Chateau Frontenac in the Upper Town was very impressive, said to be Canada’s most photographed building. Though I would have thought the Parliament Building in Ottawa would claim to be that. The Rough Guide described it as “A pseudo-medieval red-brick pile crowned with a copper roof”. Built between 1892-1925, it was famous as the hotel where the rich, famous and privileged would/still stay. It is also famous as the location during World War Two where Winston Churchill and Franklin D Roosevelt planned D-Day.

The Hotel de Ville (City Hall) built in 1883 was another large building. Across the road were two impressive Art Deco buildings. The Hotel Clarendon was Quebec’s oldest hotel dating from 1870 but renovated in the 1930s. The furnishings and décor had been retained and looked fabulous. Oh to be able to afford to stay there. Next door was the Edifice Price building which was the city’s first skyscraper.

We had anticipated spending a day there, but after a couple of hours, we felt that we had a good feel for it. Admittedly, we did none of the historical museums. Rush hour was just starting so we decided to continue east along the St Lawrence River. Route 138 was busy but at least it flowed. The suburbs went on for miles but eventually thinned out into isolated hamlets by the water.

We pushed on past forests to our left and the river to our right along an undulating, forested landscape. The sun was dropping by the time we reached La Malbaie. This pleasant town was one of Canada’s first holiday resorts. Just for a change, we went for a meal first and then would find somewhere to stay. Picking a local restaurant, we had an excellent meal (fish starter, steak and fries, dessert) cooked as if we had been in France. It started to fill with locals so we knew we had accidentally chosen a decent place.

The Hotel Castel de la Mer was a lovely place. The room was spacious and clean and we could park right outside. I had brought some luggage in through the front door. Meanwhile Wendy had opened the glass door next to the car. It was dark outside and I didn’t realise that she had left the mesh screen in place. I walked right into it ripping some of it off. After laughing her head off, I had to do some rapid repairs to try and keep it in place until we fled the next day.

Wednesday Sept 21

The hotel provided a lovely breakfast in an upstairs breakfast room. The female care taker explained everything that was available. The hotel was one of the best we stayed in on our trip. Recommended.

We had pulled in here, because it was the last major place before our next destination. The Fjord du Saguenay is one of the world’s longest fjords....”a stupendous expanse of rocky outcrops, sheer cliffs and thick vegetation.” (Rough Guide) supported by Lonely Person’s Guide “where a dramatic towering canyon ploughs northwest from the St Lawrence and from its dark waters rise majestic cliffs up to 500m high”. Formed during the last Ice Age, the fjord is the most southerly one in the northern hemisphere. As deep as 270m in some places, the riverbed rises of a depth of only 20m at the fjord’s mouth at Tadoussac.

It is best known for its whale watching opportunities. There are around 1000 Beluga whales here. A century ago, there were 5000. They are now on Canada’s endangered species list. The area continues to attract whales because the mingling of the cold Labrador Sea waters with the highly oxygenated fresh water of the Saguenay River produces a uniquely rich crop of krill and plankton. Migratory whales also come here.

There was a view point/walkway over the Fjord where we could see the ferries crossing between the looming granite cliffs. We saw over twenty beluga whales, some in trios, some pairs, some solo. Their white markings made them distinctive against the dark water. Zodiac boats containing a dozen tourists would zoom up and down the fjord looking for them but could only come within a certain distance. We were content to view them from the shore. There was only one way to head north across the Fjord and that was by ferry. We were surprised that there was no charge. We just lined up and waited for the next one. The journey across the Fjord was around 20 minutes and off we drove. The landscape north of the fjord was of small lakes surrounded by granite outcroppings and boreal forest, interspersed with stretches of sandy beaches and salt marsh.

We drove onto the seaside resort of Les Escoumins. Wendy wasn’t feeling well and went to the only chemist in town to get something. They told her that it could only be prescribed by a doctor. The small hospital was just around the corner so we walked in and dealt with the Quebec province health system. Firstly, Wendy had to register and pay over $670 Canadian for the privilege. Then we waited for a doctor to see her. He asked a few questions in French/English, took a blood test and told us to wait for the results. We were called back where he confirmed Wendy had what she thought she did and wrote a prescription. Then Wendy had to pay $50 for the doctor and $50 for the blood test. Then back at the chemist, she had to pay for the medication. I estimated she spent over 900 Canadian Dollars for a simple ailment. The good news is that if she has to go back she will only have to pay $120! Which was nice.

Originally, we were going to try and catch a ferry across the St Lawrence River, but the medication wiped Wendy out and she just said “get me to the nearest hotel”. This was just down the road from the chemist. The Auberge de la Mer hotel (really a B&B) was owned by a Frenchmen. It was a bit run down but it would do. While Wendy slept, I sunbathed on the balcony overlooking the sea enjoying some reading and red wine time. Later on, Wendy surfaced for the sunset but was out of sorts until the next day. All the limited TV channel options were in French.

Thursday Sept 22

Yesterday, I had checked the ferry times for the ferry leaving Les Escoumins (which is why we had come here) but the next one was 4pm today. There was nothing to do in this seaside town and we had another earlier option from St Simeon on the other side of the fjord. After breakfast, we pottered back down to the coast and popped into Tadoussac, one of Canada’s oldest villages and beautifully situated at the neck of the Fjord du Saguenay and its confluence with the St Lawrence River. Tadoussac became the first fur-trading post in European North America in 1600, eight years before the founding of Quebec City. The waterfront was dominated by the red roof and green lawns of the Hotel Tadoussac, a landmark since 1864. Nearby was the oldest wooden church in Canada, the tiny Capelle de Tadoussac built in 1747.

Further on, we boarded the Fjord ferry and crossed the expanse of water again. From the viewpoint/walkway on the other side, we did some more whale watching and saw a few Minke whales which are larger than Beluga whales and migratory.

You could not reserve a ferry ticket at St Simeon. It was a case of arriving and lining up. The ferry was leaving at 2pm. We had time to have a light lunch at a café before boarding. It was a 40 minute crossing of the St Lawrence River under darkened skies. We docked at Riviere du Loup (the Wolf River) but even on the other side of the river, we were still in Quebec Province.

Heading south, we were making for New Brunswick, one of the Maritime provinces along with Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia. These provinces are dominated by the sea which was crucial to their development bringing waves of settlers and also accounting for thier shipbuilding and fishing industries.

The industrial town of Edmunston with a large paper mill was just over the province border. We turned off the highway following hotel signs, drove around the town, found no hotels and ended up back on the highway where it seems that most hotels locate themselves. We found a Comfort Inn that was above our budget but comfortable. We dined out at an all you eat Chinese just down the road.

Friday Sept 23

84% of New Brunswick is covered by trees and much of the province is intractable wilderness.. It is the only province in Canada that is constitutionally bi-lingual (English-French). Around a third of the population are French speaking.

It was pouring with rain today and it didn’t let up all day. It made for a miserable day’s driving but we crossed the province in one trip. Highway 2 took us by the side of the Maine /USA border to the capital Fredericton and then Moncton.

En route to Fredericton, we popped into the town of Hartland whose 391m long wooden bridge is by far the longest covered bridge in the world. It was completed in 1921 replacing the 1901 original. The idea was to protect the timbers of the bridge from the elements by means of a long shed like affair built like a barn. It was impressive with a covered walkway by the side of the single lane bridge that crossed the St John River.

On Highway 2 we passed a pickup pulling a long trailer that contained a huge dead moose with a full set of antlers and its legs tied. There was also a quad bike on board with a mounted gun. Hunting season was underway. We saw endless ‘Warning Moose’ signs in this state but never a live moose. We had a quick look at the capital of Brunswick, Fredericton which had an impressive City Hall (1876) with its 35m clock tower. The Legislative Assembly Building, (1882) home of New Brunswick’s parliament also had an imposing sandstone and granite exterior.

The rain drove us towards Moncton. On a long uninhabited stretch of 30 miles, we hit the petrol reserve and wondered when a petrol station would appear. With less than 5 miles in the tank, we pulled into a service area to fill up. Fortunately, there was also a liquor store to fill up as well. The assistant told us that they had seen a moose down the road from their house yesterday and that they tended to come out around dusk.

To reach Prince Edward Island, we had to cross Confederation Bridge which spans the Northumberland Strait. The bridge is 13km long and ’fixed’ in that you are just driving on a road across the sea though it rises in certain places to let boats through. A hefty $46 toll would be collected on the way off the island which even the locals had to pay and seemed unfair.

The rain had finally stopped late in the afternoon. We drove to Summertown and found the friendly cheap Travellers Inn which had a swimming pool 10 seconds from our room. There was a large supermarket up the road with a large display of orange pumpkins outside. Ironically, when we returned to the hotel, there was a gigantic thick dark cloud looming above like a spaceship. The heavens opened with a massive thunder and lightning storm. While this raged, we spoiled ourselves with treats to eat in the room and went swimming.

Today, my brother Richard contacted us to tell us that our dad was ill and had been taken to hospital. He was already weak with the latter stages of cancer and this was an added complication. It put a little stress on us during the rest of the trip – should we abandon it and fly home? but we were already near the turning point and as an avid traveller himself, he would have told us to keep going anyway. We would call every day from now on to check in.

Saturday Sept 24

The Rough Guide said the Prince Edward Island (PEI) was “A land of rich, red earth, gently rolling farmland and neat villages of Victorian homes”. Other facts were that it was Canada’s smallest province, that a local law banned large billboards and there are were no freeways. The British renamed the island in 1799 from the French ‘Ile St Jean’. There were only 145,000 people living on this agriculturally based “Gentle Island” which had a charmed and relaxed atmosphere. We took a quiet drive past fields, colourful barns and inlets with small fishing boats moored up. The red soil was very obvious. There wasn’t much traffic on the road and traffic signs included warnings of horses and buggies.

The small town of Cavendish on the northern coast lays claim to the key sights associated with the novel ‘Anne of Green Gables’ (written in 1908) which was “the heart-warming tale of a red haired pigtailed orphan girl called Anne Shirley”(Rough Guide). Wendy loved the book and film and wanted to take in the relevant sights. We started with Lucy Maud Montgomery’s birthplace which was a lovely old clapboard house where the author was born in 1874. The house had been decked out with period furniture, personal scrapbooks and a replica of Montgomery’s wedding dress. The elderly female custodian gave us a talk about Lucy’s life and the house before we poked around the small rooms. It was in New London about 13km from Cavendish. We had already passed the Anne of Green Gables Museum – where she was married.

The Green Gables Heritage Place is the major pilgrimage site for fans of the book. The two story timber house was built in 1831 and served as the inspiration for the fictional Green Gables farm in the novel. The house has been modified several times and the rooms have been decked out in authentic period furnishings with the aim of faithfully matching descriptions in the book. An old buggy stood in the courtyard with a hat and red pigtails that you could put on to look like Anne Shirley. I thought I looked very fetching. The house was packed with tourists. The rooms had traditional wallpaper, furniture and floorboards. We also took a stroll through ‘Haunted Wood’ nearby which was also in the book.

Finally we visited the author’s grave in the old town cemetery opposite the Anne Shirley Motel. She died in Toronto but always wanted to be buried back on Prince Edward Island. It had been a lovely way to spend half a day and overall we felt that Prince Edward Island would be lovely place for a cycling holiday. Taking Route 2 from Cavendish down to Charlottetown, the capital, we made for the Confederation Bridge, paid our $46 (ouch) and drove back to the mainland. Nova Scotia beckoned.

Connected to the rest of Canada by the 24km wide Isthmus of Chignecto, Nova Scotia (New Scotland) “juts into the Atlantic like an upside down anvil” (Rough Guide) with 8000km of coastline. Its slogan is “Canada’s ocean playground”. It is full of gorgeous villages, beaches, rocky inlets and windblown headlands. Originally settled by the French, it was taken over by the British in the 18th Century and has a mixed English, Scottish and French heritage. We drove as far as Truro on Highway 104 and found a Super 8 hotel. The receptionist got chatting with us and upgraded us to a suite as the same price as a normal room. Which was nice. She also mentioned about something called the Tidal Bore and said it would occur around 7.30pm

The Bay of Fundy off northern Nova Scotia is noted for its high tides and the Rough Guide told us “Truru has the hypnotic spectacle of the Fundy tidal bore. This only occurs higher up rivers towards the end of the bay. An advancing wave ranging from 2m (very rare) to a few centimetres powers upstream, smothering the river bank”. We found the side road leading to the Salmon River and there were over 50 people already waiting there. We weren’t quite sure what to expect. Dusk had fallen and it was getting dark. Then suddenly there was a rush of water from around the river bend and a small wave of 12 inches or so moved rapidly up the river creating a rippling effect. We had time to take a couple of photos before it passed us by. And that was it. It was something we had never heard of let alone seen before.

Sunday Sept 25

This morning we drove onto Halifax, the capital of Nova Scotia, which was only an hour down the road. En route, on Highway 102 there was a small section of toll road which seemed strange. We crossed a tall metal bridge over the river between Dartmouth and Halifax. Halifax (400,000 pop) is set beside one of the world’s finest harbours, and has become the financial, educational and transportation centre of the Maritimes. We were making the usual targeted visit with just three things to see.

There were lots of pleasant leafy suburbs dominated by wooden houses. It took a while to find the Fairview Lawn Cemetery in the North End of Halifax. The cemetery is the largest resting place of Titanic victims (121). The ‘Titanic Graveyard’ is a small area marked with a simple white ‘Titanic’ sign and small granite headstones, paid for by the White Star Line after the 1912 disaster. Most passengers had their names engraved on the stones, but many occupants were still unidentified. As we arrived, a tour group from a cruise ship appeared and we quietly joined them to hear a guide regale lots of stories about some of the people buried here. One of the musicians who stayed to play while the ship sank had rented formal clothing. After his death the clothing rental company tried to get the relatives to pay for the loss of clothing from the drowned musicians. We heard about the story of the Memorial to the Unknown Child which now apparently is known, after a previous identity was a mistake. Improved DNA have finally nailed it down (in a manner of words). One grave is named ‘J. Dawson’ – many fans of the movie thought that Jack Dawson was buried here but there is no connection. This visit ended a trail of recent Titanic sites. We had visited Liverpool where it docked from leaving Belfast. We had visited Cork, Southern Ireland, the last port before setting off to New York, and finally Halifax, Canada where many bodies are buried.

Downtown by the Waterfront, we found the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. This was an impressive collection but we concentrated on just two sections. The ‘Unsinkable Ship’ section was a detailed display on the Titanic which sank east of Halifax in 1912. It is supposedly the largest collection of Titanic memorabilia in the world but it didn’t look that big to me. There were some of the menus of food (first and third class) both of which would have been very impressive. There were some of the decorations, an original deckchair, some cooking utensils and a small girl’s shoes. The method that was used to identify the bodied was also explained in detail. It was a new method invented by someone in Halifax that was adopted around the world to identify bodies after major disasters.

Halifax did have its own major disaster five years later in 1917 during World War One when two boats collided in the harbour. One boat was full of explosives and when it caught fire and exploded, it was the loudest man-made explosion ever heard until the first atomic bomb was dropped. The explosion destroyed an entire suburb. This cataclysmic accident is known as the ‘Halifax Explosion’ of 1917. It was illustrated by a first rate video.

It says on Wikipedia “The Halifax Explosion was a maritime disaster on the morning of 6 December 1917. SS Mont-Blanc, a French cargo ship laden with high explosives, collided with the Norwegian vessel SS Imo in the Narrows, a strait connecting the upper Halifax Harbour to Bedford Basin. A fire on board the French ship ignited her cargo, causing a large explosion that devastated the Richmond district of Halifax. Approximately 2,000 people were killed by blast, debris, fires and collapsed buildings, and an estimated 9,000 others were injured.” I had never heard of this event until I visited this museum. Docked outside the museum were an early Twentieth Century steamship, the CSS Acadia and World War Two Corvette HMCS Sackville. As we left the Waterfront and headed west, we passed the impressive Citadel which was the old British fortress started in 1749 and used until 1906.

There was one more sight to do. From Halifax, we took Route 333 through dense forest before reaching the South Shore, which is “a winding ribbon of Atlantic fishing villages, glacial boulders and indented rocky bays” (Rough Guide) which starts with tiny Peggy’s Cove, 45km from the capital. Founded in 1811, the hamlet of 35 surrounds a rocky slit of a harbour with the spikey Gothic revival St John’s Anglian Church (1885) and a smattering of clapboard houses and wooden jetties on stilts. You could have filmed movies here with very little makeovers. We walked to the isolated Peggy’s Point Lighthouse (built 1914) which stood on the smoothed granite of the shore. There were loads of tour buses here at Peggy’s Cove and the restaurant was full to capacity. Outside, a girl held up two lobsters in her hands. This was the furthest point of our journey before turning around.

The sun was starting to set and we wanted to get out of Halifax. We retraced Route 333 back to Halifax and then followed a convoluted journey through the city to the bridge and back over to Dartmouth. We retraced Route 102 and ended up, guess where, at the Super 8 in Truru. We had packed up and checked out this morning. So we checked in and unpacked. Fortunately, our kind receptionist was on duty again and upgraded us to a different suite. The hotel had a swimming pool and after eating a Mexican meal, we partook of the jacuzzi.

Monday Sept 26

It was now just a case of heading back to Toronto. We set off early after breakfast and made for New Brunswick. At least it wasn’t raining. Using Highway 2, we went back to Moncton again and filled up with petrol and booze, bypassed Fredericton and pulled into Woodstock just south of Hartland. We hadn’t had a proper lunch stop up to now and entered a family restaurant called ‘Walter’s Table’ for home cooked meatloaf and chicken.

Later on, I saw a tourist sign indicating a waterfall and pulled into the small town of Grand Falls which had a gorge and waterfalls of sorts. The Rough Guide said that “A spectacular weight of water squeezes through hydroelectric barriers to crash down 23m. The gorge is 2km long and this steep sided ravine encircles half the town”. Maybe so, but not today. The barriers were down letting out a modest amount of water. There was a waterfall but nothing like the one we had seen outside Quebec.

We crossed into Quebec and followed a side road called the ‘Frontier Trail’ but passed within miles of the US border. It was sunny and picturesque, but the hamlets offered only run down motels so we pushed on to Route 20 and headed for Quebec City. I couldn’t believe the distance we had covered today – three provinces. Eventually, we came across an Econolodge at Montmagny on Route 20 about fifty miles east of Quebec City. This was excellent and we watched the final US Presidential debate. There was a fast food chicken outlet attached to the hotel.

Tuesday Sept 27

After yesterday’s fine weather, the rain had started again. We were making for Ottawa via Montreal. We followed Route 20 which seemed to bypass Montreal (Thank you God). It was a non-descript journey with nothing worth pulling off for in the rain.

But Quebec province seems to try ignore Ottawa as the capital – at least where traffic signs are concerned. We didn’t see one sign for Ottawa and only a tiny one for Ontario. We followed a highway for miles and came across no indication of where we were. At a small town, no one spoke English. We followed our nose and went over a toll bridge. Only after passing through this was there a sign saying we were entering Ontario. For the second time on this trip, we were just glad to be out of Quebec.

We arrived on the outskirts of Ottawa around 3pm found a Travelodge and looked forward to an early stop (just for a change). Except that it was full. At 3pm? Apparently, there were two conventions in town and all the hotels were booked. We were directed to another hotel further outside town, which was also full. So was the Holiday Inn.

In the end, Wendy used her smartphone to find an available hotel. This turned out to be a Best Western down town but it cost a fortune. The luxury was nice but the credit card winced. The relaxing Ottawa we had seen on our first day had been replaced by traffic jams and snarling drivers. At least two yelled at us. Give us a break, we don’t live here. It rather soured our opinion of Ottawa.

Wednesday Sept 28

The breakfast at the Best Western was superb with an added bonus of watching half a dozen black squirrels play outside on the lawn. We had never seen black squirrels before. The Canadian War Museum is housed in a striking building about 2 km from the centre. The “fascinating displays twist through the labyrinthine interior” (Rough Guide). It contained Canada’s most comprehensive collection of war related artefacts. We spent nearly three hours there. I was glad we had chosen this to be the museum to see. The Museum is divided into four mains sections which work their way through Canada’s military history. The first gallery, the “Battleground: Wars on Our Soil” covered the earliest times (dealing with the Indians) until 1885 including a good section on the War of 1812 (We won – get over it America).

But it was the on World War One which was most relevant. On our tour of World War One battlefields three years ago, we had visited the Vimy Ridge memorial where the Canadians had lost a lot of men but been victorious against the odds. There was a good film about the battle and lots of fascinating photographs and incidental detail. Rum rations came labelled ‘SRD’ (Service Regiment Depot) which the troops rebranded as “Seldom Reaches Destination”. There were also useful sections on World War Two when the Canadians had liberated the Netherlands and finally the Cold war. The Lebreton Gallery was a large hanger packed with all sorts of military hardware such as tanks, armoured cars and artillery pieces. Recommended.

We headed west out of Ottawa and made for Highway 7. My Canadian auntie had recommended this scenic road as opposed to repeating the 401 Highway. It was a nice relaxing drive through woodlands and lakes and small towns. Peterborough was the largest town at the end of it and we found another excellent Super 8 hotel and ate Mexican at the restaurant. next door.

Thursday Sept 29

The rain was thundering down this morning and as we headed for Toronto, the traffic was gridlocked in various places with accidents creating havoc. Toronto sprawls along the northern shore of Lake Ontario covering one hundred square kilometres. Ontario is also the manufacturing centre of Canada.

We could barely see the CN Tower for the rain clouds. Until 2010, it was the world’s tallest freestanding structure. I was amazed how small it now looked with all the surrounding skyscrapers that had been built since the early 1980s. When I had first seen it, it stood alone and dominated the skyline. The weather was miserable and there was no point in ascending it. The spray was coming off the road and when large trucks passed us or vice versa, we were blinded by a river of water. We decided to head for my Auntie Alison and Uncle Douglas in Cambridge, Ontario and spent the rest of the day catching up with the news and some home comforts

Friday Sept 30

Having lived in Buffalo, New York State for nearly a year between 1978-79, I had seen Niagara Falls on the Canadian border 113 times – through all the seasons. Wendy had never seen them so I felt that they would be a perfect way to end the holiday. What is disconcerting for first time tourists is the amount of commercial overkill that dominates the area. Anything that can get a dollar out of the tourists is promoted.

You can park right by the falls. My Uncle had warned me of the price ($18) and to ‘Suck it up’. It was still raining today and rather windy, so as we approached the Falls from the car we were soaked by the spray blowing off them. The Niagara Falls tumble over an enormous horseshoe shaped cliff which is 52m high. The Rough Guide concluded that they are “a fearsome white arc shrouded in clouds of dense spray with the river boats struggling down below, mere specks against the surging caldron.” There are actually two cataracts, as tiny Goat Island divides the accelerating water into two channels; on the far side, the river slips over the precipice of the American Falls. 320m wide but still only half the width of the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side.

For all my previous visits, I had never done any of the ‘touristy’ stuff so today was the perfect excuse to do them. We started with the ‘Journey Behind the Falls’. Concrete tunnels had been built behind a section of the falls down near the bottom. There were two large openings where you could see the water creating a wall of spray and also a platform outside. We were soaked by the spray again despite wearing the waterproof tops that were handed out. Back up at the top, we pottered along the edge of the gorge taking in the views of the two sets of falls. We got talking to a Texan couple who were saying that Donald Trump was going to win and how unpopular Hilary Clinton was in Texas.

We boarded one of the regular Hornblower Niagara Cruises, again wearing colourful red waterproofs. Standing at the front of the upper deck, we had fine views of the American Falls to our left which I feel are justifiably impressive in their own right. A dozen black cormorants were lined up on a large rock in the river. As we approached the Horseshoe Falls, the volume intensified as we stared up at the wall of water coming over the edge. Then the boat headed into the spray against the current and we were soaked again. Everyone was laughing at how wet they were. By the time the boat had moored back up the river, we were dry again. This is a great way to experience the falls.

Saturday Oct 1

We got up early and my auntie drove us to the Mennonite district outside Cambridge. This is a religious order who denounce most technology and bling. They dress conservatively in black and ride on buggies pulled by horses. The Farmers Market had Mennonite women dressed in smocks and bonnets on their heads selling home produced products such as honey, maple syrup, cheeses etc. Alison gave us a tour of the area, pointing out the hitching posts for the horses outside the churches and the vegetable plots in very garden. Self- sufficiency is paramount. Supposedly they shun TV, mobile phones etc. In the afternoon we attended a birthday party at their son Sandy’s house. I hadn’t seen my cousins Sandy and Fiona for years.

Around 5pm, we headed for Toronto airport giving ourselves extra time for gridlocked traffic. We were lucky and after dropping off the rental car and checking in, we found ourselves with three hours to spare. We had never arrived at an airport so early for a 9.30pm flight. It was around 7pm when a message went up that our flight was to be delayed until 11.15pm. The excuse was a technical problem. We prepared for an extra two hour wait. Around 10pm, they announced that the plane was not fixed for the journey. There was talk of flying a plane in from Calgary. I thought that would take hours. In the end they cancelled the flight. Normally this would not have been an issue for us, but we knew my father was getting worse and he didn’t have long left.

We were told to reclaim our luggage and then head for a counter to rebook onto a flight tomorrow night for 8pm. It took ages to get processed and then they announced that the hotels had to be organised. They had to book an entire plane with overnight accommodation. By the time that was sorted we then had to wait for the relevant hotel bus.

We finally checked into the Radisson Hotel near the airport after 2am with $60 of food vouchers. We had discovered that firstly the plane had a leaking window. I think it was good that they discovered this on the ground rather than at 35,000 feet. Secondly, Westjet were using old planes and spare parts were not readily available which is why they couldn’t fix it. Most disturbingly, we learned that last night’s flight had also been cancelled. Some passengers were being delayed over 48hrs with two nights in a hotel. What would happen if they cancelled our flight tomorrow?

Sunday Oct 2

After an excellent late breakfast, we made the most of the suite. It was still pouring with rain, there was nowhere to go near the hotel and Toronto was an hour away. Once we got kicked out of room around midday, we had two choices. Hang around the hotel and eat a meal there or go to the airport. Wendy opted for the airport. Airside, we discovered that there was only one eating place which was an Irish pub with limited food and our vouchers would not pay for alcohol. Checking with a Westjet rep, Wendy discovered that our vouchers could be cashed in for a couple of hours in the Premier Lounge where we could drink alcohol, get a meal, eat snacks and relax in privileged comfort. So we made the most of that. In the end we hung around for three hours empting the red wine supplies. No other passengers on our flight seemed to be aware of this trick. I was very happy with the outcome. I even managed to email work to let them know I was delayed. The plane was brought forward to 7pm and we poured ourselves aboard and slept all night.

Monday Oct 3

We were supposed to arrive earlier but were obviously held in a flight pattern and flew around Gatwick for over an hour and eventually landed at the original time. Then the luggage took an age to be unloaded and our Meet and Greet car parking was 30 minutes late. It was one delay after an hour.

Eventually, we had the car and roared home to see my father. When we arrived around 1pm he was being assessed by a GP to be admitted to a hospice for Palliative care. He looked so much weaker than when we had left. He smiled when he saw us and we were glad or be back finally after the journey home from hell. Less than three weeks later, my father would be dead.