Hanging Around Oakville

Another week poking around my apartment in Oakville. I’ve been spending my time getting re-acquainted and learning to do new things with software on my laptop. I should be doing further work with my picture files but lacking the ability to upload them I can’t generate the motivation. I have been busy sorting through books, DVD’s, and CD’s finding CD’s to listen to, DVD’s to watch and books to read next. After imposing a modicum of organization on my collections got out a vacuum and started fighting dust.

On August 23 tired of my four walls and took a drive to Milton to visit a friend. Nothing like hearing other people’s woes to take one’s mind off one’s own. Milton is the fastest growing community in North America and is experiencing all the growing pains associated with that kind of expansion. I was thankful to discover Derry Rd is no longer a work in progress nor covered in red clay. Learning that power outages caused by construction are a daily occurrence was an eye-opener. The taste of pears and tomatoes fresh from a backyard garden reawakens taste buds one didn’t know one had.

On Tuesday managed to get back online briefly, when I’ll ever catch up on all those E-mail who knows though I am attempting to keep up with my comix. Feeling I should get my teeth checked at least once a year kept the appointment I’d made the week before. The dental technician who took up residency a few years back is my definition of a female redneck--resentful of people such as myself who have a pension plan and medical benefits and in general opinionated and not shy about sharing. It is one thing that she spent considerable time updating my dental records, quite another that she tacked on a charge of over one hundred dollars for so-doing with nary a by your leave. Did you hear me say something unprintable? Drove to Bronte for lunch at the Coach and Four Pub frequented by the local senior’s population and still maintaining high standards. A walk round the block revealed derricks busy constructing the infamous Bronte Quadrangle whose developers’ block-busting blitz irrevocably destroyed the face of Olde Bronte and may even have been behind the mysterious fire that befell the Boat House Restaurant at the corner, good on the owners for stubbornly holding out and rebuilding. A stop at Future Shop for some newly released DVD’s reminded me of their continued inefficiency and lack of current stock and a cashier who had to be reminded that the computer is often not updated accurately overcharging by $20--the store may have gotten a one million dollar face-lift but otherwise remains unchanged. Found my dye and worked on my shoes, alas the polish has dried up.

Thursday afternoon a neighbour drove me to the Oakville Hospital for my date with the laser which was my reason for being in town. It is a sad commentary on the state of health-care that a procedure that lasted all of 120 seconds took up 4 hours of my day. We left at 1:30 arriving with a half hour to spare before my appointment. It was to be an entire hour before my number came up in reception and an hour after that before I finally got to see the doctor. By the time I called my ride, got picked up, and spent another 45 minutes picking up the prescribed eye-drops at Shopper’s Drug it was 5:30. By that time I’d long since finished the book I took with me to read.

Friday morning went to the doctor’s office for an after-care checkup. Hopefully there is a special section in Hell reserved for practitioners who overbook and have no regard for their patient’s time and patience. I arrived at 9:30 for a 9:45 appointment and found an over-crowded waiting-room. Patients were lined up outside in the corridor. Eventually I got a seat and held on to it with a death-grip. I’d brought a 400-page book with me this time. When the doctor finally saw me at 11:00 AM I had to remind him that the nurse who had put drops in my eyes 40 minutes ago warned me they were good for 10 minutes. I left with the news that the operations had been a success--pity the patient died of boredom waiting. At least my generator had had a chance to have a good run at recharging my RV batteries. I’d earlier caught up somewhat online. For this I am spending three baking weeks in Oakville.

Back in Oakville

Home isn’t home anymore, my RV is now home. Upon opening my condo apartment door was met by a wall of eighty degree heat which took the air conditioning unit twenty-four hours to overcome. Left soon after to find my favourite Swiss Chalet still open and to be recognized by my waitress. My beer was warm but otherwise the meal was as excellent as I’d remembered. Sated I went hunting for batteries for my beeping smoke alarms and browsed Oakville Place noting the closed spaces and missing businesses. Home again I braved the heat and settled in to watch Doctor Zhivago after determining that my smoke alarm problem was caused by a piece of junk installed unbeknownsted to me. Getting caught up with 3 months of mail is always a trial.

Saturday morning after sleeping round the clock settled into my own bathtub for a good soak before dropping in on a couple of my neighbours including the ones who check my apartment. Decided to watch the mini-series North and South which I plan to loan my Brother-In-Law who is presently ploughing through the novels upon which it is based. Also at last finished reading the Guide Book on Gros Morne National Park. Now that I’ve finished it wish I had a chance to tour the park without rain, fog, and snow and see the flowers, wildlife, and geology described therein.

Sunday morning, my home finally felt cool and I went off to church and had dinner with friends. Upon returning dropped in on two neighbours and met another in the hallway. I needed company to divert my thoughts from the visit I was to pay on the morrow. In my travels today found rubber speed bumps on Warminister Dr. Took an alternate route next day to Hopedale Mall where I visited the TD Bank for cash and to hopefully resolve some credit card chip issues and got supplies at Metro, the former A&P. At 11:15 Friday August 16th kept the appointment with the ophthamologist which brought me back to Oakville. As always doctor’s offices are a case of hurry up and wait. This one makes the patients feel like cattle at an abattoir. I will say that when it came to it the doctor took the time to explain matters to me in detail. The outcome was a decision that I need laser eye surgery to be performed over two appointments beginning the last Thursday in August. My final appointment will be an after-care checkup on Friday, September Third. The possible complications and side-effects are balanced by the distinct possibility of an accute attack of glaucoma leading to excruciating pain and overnight blindness. A Hobsian Choice.

Although I’d thought to travel while I waited the extreme heat and the cost of summer camping in Southern Ontario persuaded me to stay home in my air conditioned apartment. Unfortunately I lack internet contact in my home and feel withdrawal symptoms. After a day spent reading and watching DVD’s on Tuesday finally decided to start my refrigerator for the first time in two years and had my first coffee since noon Sunday this morning, Wednesday, August 18th. After two months of nearly freeezing in Newfoundland when I wasn’t lost in a fog or being deluged it’s hard to get used to the fact that it hasn’t rained here since my return a week ago and the overnight temperature barely gets to 70. It took my fridge 48 hours to get to operating temperature but at least after 2 years it still runs.

After one week at home I still can’t get online without driving somewhere else. This morning I figured out how to direct tune my fancy tuner stereo. I’ve immersed myself in my video collection moving from the seriousness of North and South to the red-necked ridiculousness of the Tremors Series and the Celtic Fantasy of Heath Ledger in Roar. Since I own three vacuum cleaners I really should attack the dust and there’s still that pile of mail.... Experimenting with Google’s Picassa Software seemed more fun.

August 21, 2010
Went out this morning to find an internet connection. Had to deal with 100 plus gift requests in Farmville and downloaded 300 E-mail. It may be some time before I catch up. Got some groceries and drove home again.

Back in Halifax

Friday, July 30th
Arrived to find my Sister and Brother-in-Law in their front yard. After the events of the last few days I wasn’t up to much but that evening I greatly enjoyed the opportunity to have a thorough soak in a bathtub. Every traveller should have a sister with a washer and dryer and a brother-in-law who does washing and waxing along with repairs. Sunday Morning we walked down to Saint John the Baptist United Church--seems to be a popular name for a church in these parts; in the afternoon drove into the city to take in the band concert in the Public Gardens.

Is my friend Roy correct in asserting that rain follows me around. In any case it rained all last week making it good weather to catch up on reading and watch some movies. It wasn’t until the weekend that we got to the Annapolis Valley to pick Highbush Blueberries. After church on Sunday got a feed of Clams and Chips at John’s, a Greek Family Restaurant. Talk about treating guests like family, the owner came out and grabbed a chip off my brother-in-law’s plate and popped it in his mouth. After we wandered around the touristy Fisherman’s Cove which overlooks McNabs Island west of Dartmouth.

Monday morning August 9th I pulled up stakes and hit the highway headed west. Gasoline was $1.07.1 in Nova Scotia, 99¢ in New Brunswick. Before leaving stopped at Masstown Market north of Truro to pick up groceries and fresh produce along with a small fortune in Maple Syrup worth its weight in gold as gifts for friends in Alberta and Texas. It started raining just as I crossed the border into New Brunswick. Had made a reservation for Hartt Island and spent a restless first night back in my RV bed especially since the site wasn’t level and I was too lazy to bother with planks.

Tuesday the drive proved uneventful. I’ve been fortunate in not being held up by road construction. Unlike Monday I didn’t have any drivers like the one who kept passing me only to slow down. Stopped in Edmunston just before crossing into Quebec to stock up on a few things I couldn’t find at Masstown and get gasoline. Camping Lido near Riviere-Du-Loup offered me a choice of campsites and good Wi-Fi.

The drive Wednesday down the Eastern Townships along Highway 20 was long and hot. At least I didn’t have to navigate in fog though there was a great deal of bridge reconstruction along the way. In Quebec they typcially tackle the entire bridge and route traffic to the opposing lanes with a barricade down the centre. The crossover lanes are left permanently in place blocked by rods when not in use. Haven’t looked at the booklets I picked up at the Quebec Border when I made a rest stop upon leaving New Brunswick. Stopped for lunch at a rest area along the highway mid-way between Quebec City and Montreal where there was a boutique selling over-priced cheeses, cheese curd, and cheese strings, sandwiches, tourist items, drinks and local cider. I broke down and picked up some cider. I’ll have to wait for it to cool properly. Found a campsite in Bromont Quebec though it doesn’t seem to be the same place I stayed last May. It’s 80º F here and I’m thankful for working A/C.

After a drive west along Highway 10 leading to Highway 20 through West-End Montreal found my way to the Ontario Border and Highway 401. With the rest areas and tourist bureau still under construction Westbound as it was Eastbound stopped for a break at a brand new rest area which lacked all but a washroom and dining area. Camped for the night at a KOA north of Cardinal near Upper Canada Village north of the 401 and rested up for Friday’s uneventful drive across the top of Toronto.

RV Videos: How to deal with a RV tire blowout. This video could save your life!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010How to deal with a RV tire blowout. This video could save your life!How would you react to a blown front tire? Would you slow down? Speed up? No matter how you answer, please watch the informative online video "The Critical Factor" from Michelin. Truly, seeing this could save your life. And by the way, according to the video, hitting your brakesis the WORST thing you could do!Posted by Staff Report at 7/27/2010 03:38:00 PM

RV Videos: How to deal with a RV tire blowout. This video could save your life!

Ramp repair compounds Marine Atlantic woes

Last Updated: Monday, August 9, 2010 | 6:33 PM AT Comments22Recommend13

CBC News

The discovery of a stress fracture on a ramp at the Marine Atlantic terminal in southwestern Newfoundland slowed down the ferry operator's commercial service.
A problem with a hinge on one of two loading ramps in Port aux Basques was discovered on Friday night.
Gerard Merrigan says Marine Atlantic immediately launched repairs at one of its loading docks in Port aux Basques. (CBC) "We had a small stress fracture in the ramp," said terminal manager Gerard Merrigan.
"We felt that it was in the best interest to have it repaired immediately before we continued operating."
Because Port aux Basques has a second ramp, crews with the Crown corporation were able to keep loading and unloading passenger vessels.
However, truckers and others who use the commercial service were faced with delays while repairs were done, and crossings with the Leif Ericson ferry were pushed back.
The problem comes quickly on the heels with three of the ferries that connect southern Newfoundland with Nova Scotia.
Repairs were made this weekend, although the Leif Ericson has been working through delays. It is expected to return to the regular schedule by Tuesday.
Marine Atlantic has had a difficult summer. In addition to mechanical errors and delays, Marine Atlantic has come in for fierce criticism over its commercial reservation system.

Road restriction prompts racism allegation

Protesters say they want 'justice for all'

Last Updated: Monday, August 9, 2010 | 1:12 PM AT Comments199Recommend108

CBC News

Protesters block traffic Monday morning near North Preston, N.S., to draw attention to what they say is unfair and racist treatment. (CBC) Some people in a predominantly black community near Halifax are outraged that only a handful of families have been granted access to a private dirt road in their area.
About 40 protesters stopped vehicles Monday morning that were driving on a main road near the community of North Preston. Some protesters carried signs that read "Justice for all" and "Equality is a two-way street."
They claim that the 10 families who have been given keys to a nearby padlocked, private dirt road are all white. Wayne Desmond, chairman of the North Preston Ratepayers Association, calls it an "injustice."
The main road into North Preston is closed while a bridge connecting the community to a nearby highway is being repaired. A detour is in place that takes drivers several kilometres off their regular route.
The families who live in Lake Major, one of the communities affected by the closure, have special permission to take the single-lane road to avoid the detour.
"It's not right," said Desmond. "We've gone back 50 years in which we are denied just the privileges that are open to residents of Lake Major."
Neville Provo, a North Preston resident, said he heard the families were afraid to take the longer route through his community, where there have been several shootings in the past year.
"There is volence everywhere," he said. "We had to go through a detour and they should have to go through a detour too. Taking note of special people just isn't right."
Councillor David Hendsbee defends the road restriction to demonstrators on Lake Major Road Monday. (CBC) Wylie Cain, another North Preston resident, doesn't like the road restriction either.
"They're making a road, a separate road, a private road for the whites, which is discrimination, and I think that is bad, that is wrong," Cain told CBC News before the protest.
David Hendsbee, the municipal councillor for the area, got an earful as he addressed the demonstrators Monday morning.
He said the families granted access to the road all live directly across the bridge in the community of Lake Major, so are inconvenienced the most by the construction.
"Race has nothing to do with this," he told CBC News. "It's a case of simple geography. The problem is this country road cannot hold the traffic volumes that North Preston generates."
The property owners want to minimize traffic on the single-lane road as much as possible, he added.
The old road is meandering and runs through a wooded area along a golf course. Hendsbee said the people allowed to use it had to sign liability waivers.
He also said local firefighters and police have been given keys to the locked gate, and the Halifax Regional Municipality spent $40,000 to upgrade the road for emergency vehicles.
Ten families have keys to the locked dirt road. (CBC) He said he offered to explain the road restriction to people in the area, but no one took him up on his offer.
Wayne Desmond said North Preston residents suggested alternative routes once they heard the bridge would be closed but were told they weren't feasible.
"Nowhere along the lines were the community and the ratepayers association informed that there would be a gate and that we would be denied access," said Desmond. "The entire community knows that [Hendsbee] didn't call a public meeting."
Neville Provo vows to keep up the blockade.
"We're not standing for this kind of stuff no more," Provo said. "If we get detoured, they're going to get detoured too."
The Ernst Mill Bridge replacement project started last month and is expected to wrap up by Oct. 15.

Newfoundland Longing

As I near the end of my two months in Newfoundland I am left with a sense of longing and nostalgia for past glories. As with so many Islanders who were forced to move ‘away’ to make a living and come back to visit family or retire one cannot go home. In the first place the home you left will have changed and oft-times no longer be recognizable as the place you remember, and in the second the eyes you view it with will have been altered by life experience: places seen and people met.

The crash of the cod stocks not only deprived thousands of a living but swept away an entire lifestyle. Whether or not one agrees with Joey Smallwood’s resettlement program living in remote inaccessible outports because they were close to favourite fishing grounds was no longer a viable lifestyle on many levels. On the other hand moving from the social comfort of insular communities to larger urban centres leaving behind the only world one had known, one’s dead, one’s sense of the world and one’s place in it created in many a permanent sense of dislocation. King Cod once so numerous it was said you could walk across the Grand Banks on their backs is now only a remnant.

All over the Rock young people have moved ‘away’ to find work in Ontario or the oil fields of Alberta. Communities that were once home to hundreds or even thousands are now left with small ageing populations who have no one to care for them, bury their dead, or remember their stories. In Trinity a church built to hold five hundred now serves a winter population of 45. Once thriving outports are now ghost towns where people visit only in summer.

A generation of Newfoundlanders is growing up who have no association with the sea: its tides, its seasons, its moods, its life cycle, who have never been at sea on a calm foggy day to hear a groaner twenty miles distant, a gannet dive for a fish or a whale blow or breach even though all are invisible. Who would be lost at sea if the fog rolled in without their navigational aids.

The Beothuk aborigines are an extinct race along with the Great Auk. The primeval hardwood forests have been cut and are unlikely to regrow. The Trans-Newfoundland Railway, The Newfie Bullet, now exists only as the track for the Trans Canada Trail. Because their ores are no longer viable mining communities which once employed thousands are now reduced to ghost towns or remnant bedroom communities. Once thriving mill towns languish because foreign owners no longer find their chief employers profitable. Communities that grew up around major airports dwindle because modern jets no longer have to stop here to refuel. Tourism would seem to be the wave of the future but making a living off nostalgia is demoralizing and the unpredictable and undependable Marine Atlantic Ferry System does a disservice to islanders and tourists alike.

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So why should anyone come here?

The People. Get out of the few major population centres and meet people who have time for one another, who will stop and talk not to be polite but because they genuinely enjoy human contact. No strangers to hardship they will make you welcome and go out of their way to help however they can. Per capita Newfoundlanders give more to charity than practically any other population in North America.

The Rock. The land which has formed this people is harsh and unforgiving. Stoically accepting great distances and bad weather as the way things are and getting on with life despite them is the Newfoundland way. Get out on the water with the locals. Icebergs really do float by and whales troll the coastline for capelin and shrimp. In Gros Morne 2000 ft cliffs tower vetically over 700 ft of water, in the east cliffs rise above shallow coastal waters with green meadows right to their edges.

The Wildlife. One hundred thirty thousand moose: an introduced road hazard, a viewing opportunity, or a culinary discovery. Fish, both fresh water and sea creatures. The birdlife, bald eagles abound but it is the pelagic birds that come ashore only to nest in remote colonies by the tens of thousands.

History. Haunted by it and proud of their heritage at the same time, it is expressed in yarns and song, in plays and art, music and dance, in architecture and turns of phrase. It inflects speech patterns with accents from Dorset, Ireland, and the Basque shores. At the same time it evokes sorrow, pride and joy.

The Food. Whether a Jigg’s Meal of pickled beef appeals in Newfoundland it is Sunday Dinner. Where else can one have fish that an hour ago was still swimming in the sea? Cod tongues and schruncheons, fish and chips, cod fish patties for breakfast. The berries. Miles and miles of wetlands grow cloudberries, bakeapples, crowberries, raspberries, blueberries, cranberries and this natural bounty becomes jams, jellies, cordials, pies, conserves.

Go to Newfoundland to make memories of your own.

Leaving Newfoundland Home

I’ve been busy and without adequate internet service to write. My last full day in Saint John’s I went for a tour of the Memorial University Campus. I was quite impressed with the facilities and the services provided for students, the majority of which would be coming from small outport communities. Prince Philip Dr, a four-lane highway with 8-foot chain-link fence in the median splits the campus in half hence overhead walkways complete with locker and meal facilities connect the two sides at regular intervals and tunnels connect all the buildings. Students have free use of world-class exercise facilities, pools, and tracks. The CBC Broadcasting Centre is at the West End of Campus, several hospitals to the North West, and the Saint John’s Arts and Culture Centre and Central Library at the other end. There appear to be extensive residences. Walking trails connect to the community and Pippy Park to the north. That evening I experienced my first attack by mosquitoes.

The drive down to Cape Saint Mary’s began with a trip north on the TCH. A well-paved road leads down to Placentia/Argentia and the ferry to NS. The roads in town have been recently excavated and those south are narrow, winding, and broken at the shoulder. At every cove the road dips dramatically and the speed limit drops to 50, once past habitiation the grade out of the coves is steep and resumes 80 KM. Always, one must be on alert for moose. Between outport communities the road is encroached by softwood forest and rocks, the vegetation becoming sparser and more stunted as one goes until near Saint Brides it is reduced to scrubby Tuckamore.

The two-storey Gannet’s Nest Restaurant towers amid the surrounding bogs and ponds two kilometers south of Saint Brides. The RV Park is an extension of the parking lot out back however there is 30 AMP power and tannin-laced water from an artesian well. Bathroom facilities are off the basement bar area. The tenting area is fenced in else tents would blow away. Wi-Fi reception is intermittent at the mercy of the fog and rain. The Ecological Reserve is 14 KM further down a narrow well-paved road that wanders amid swamps and a copse of pine. I biked down and as I got close the world was eaten by an encroaching fogbank. When I reached the parking lot the lighthouse a few yards distant was not visible and I needed directions to find the visitor’s centre a few yards away. The 1.4KM trail to Gannet Rock is marked by posts in the meadow grass and later amid the rock that leads one downhill. Wild Iris sparkled amid the fog beside the trail and the sound of birds which were not visible tantalized. Little could be seen until the offshore nesting rock hove into sight at the end of the trail. Half a mile inland from the coast the magically fog dissipated once more. I suppose I should have heeded the advice given the night before by the Saint Brides librarian who counseled that I should go that day as the fog might not lift for weeks at a time.

On Friday, July 23, I accepted an invitation to go fishing off Cape Saint Mary’s on my host’s gill-netter. From the government wharf in Saint Brides it’s a 9-mile sail by Ford Motor Marine Diesel to the fishing grounds. As we surged along bobbing in the swell I clung to the fish hatch and concentrated on keeping my sea legs while the deck hand Patrick gave me an education regarding outport life. Captain Foley uses a GPS to locate the buoys that mark his nets. Arrived on station the first bobbin was hauled aboard and the net was threaded around a capstan to draw it in kelp, sculpin, an occasional flat fish and cod were pulled up with the net until the appearance of a mako sharp called a halt to proceedings. The shark came with prominent toothy smile and got hauled aboard by his tail while I kept a respectable distance. The first nets ended in an improvised anchor and were then neatly folded at the stern of the boat while the last of what clung to them was thrown overboard, then the process was repeated 4 more times. It was when we stopped forward momentum and began bobbing to and fro in the chop that I began wondering if my breakfast was safe. To my credit I didn’t lose it but was ready on several occasions to head for the rail. After motoring back toward shore the nets were reset before we headed back to port. First, the fish were cleaned and placed on ice. Waiting for us at the dock was the fisheries inspector who filed the paperwork and saw to the weighing of our catch. That accomplished the knives were gotten out again and the fish filleted. The work day began at 7:00 AM a decent hour from my perspective and ended at 1:00 PM. Home I broke out the ginger tea and eschewed lunch. I passed on the opportunity to go back out next day, when the catch was a disappointing single codfish.

On Saturday, July 24th the sky clearing and a stiff breeze blowing out the fog, I drove down to Cape Saint Mary’s and having the Cape to myself shot a bunch of photos and marvelled at how I could have missed the lighthouse 2 days earlier. After I drove over to admire two miles of crystal sand on the beach at Point Lance. That evening the fog billowed in again around 4:30 making the world disappear as it came. I drove down to the visitor’s centre once more for an evening of music and story-telling cautiously negotiating the fog-shrouded road and wishing there were fewer cars coming the other way. The ghost stories were enhanced by the fog outside and the sound of the wailing foghorn. The drive home with the world ending 20 ft in front of my RV was riveting.

After a quiet weekend drove up to Placentia on Tuesday, July 27th and toured the old fort of Plaisance abandoned when the French moved on to Louisbourg. The interpretive exhibits and MP3 guided walk were enjoyable. A local group performed a period drama for our entertainment. In town I visited the museum where a knowledgeable young man gave me a personal tour then went for early supper at the Three Sisters.

With the closure of the American Base at Argentia very little of the town remains save for the ferry terminal. Things were much more formal here with my RV first measured, then the sign-in process. I was totally unprepared for the agricultural inspection that saw my potatoes and carrots confiscated and the RV sprayed with high pressure water. Nothing had prepared or warned me of this annoyance. Having arrived at the line-up at 6:30 it was now a matter of hurry up and wait. It would be 5 more hours before I loaded and sailing was nearly 4 hours late with no explanation ever given.

What can I say about a 15-hour ferry crossing. The sky remained clear and the sea remarkably calm but the free Wi-Fi was rather inconsistent and slow. Time dragged on and I lulled in front of my computer screen. Managed to listen to podcasts for a while but eventually lost interest and drowsed. At 5 AM went for toast and coffee. Around noon went for a sub and cream of mushroom soup. The soup was remarkably good. When we finally saw land it seemed to take forever to reach the dock and at that we were barred from the car decks until just before disembarkation.

Having arrived at 2:30 I drove down to Louisbourg passing through several construction zones where traffic was stopped. Found camping for the weekdays but the weekend was booked for Crabfest. Saw to a few matters such as grey water and fresh water, got my bike down and went to bed after a light snack.

Thursday, July 29th I spent my Birthday upgrading the Operating System on my laptop over itself to repair it while I rode up to the fortress. After the bus ride out to the fort walked up to the gates, answered the challenge and toured the guard’s cottage. Made it inside in time to take in a musket drill. Then the 75 minute orientation tour. After explored briefly before sitting for a 3-course meal of vegetable soup, hot rum punch, pork with vegetables and potatoes, a dark ale, cake and coffee. The governor loves credit. Wandered around the site poking here and there admired the backyard gardens. The accountants was a formal flower garden, the doctors vegetables and herbs. Met the governor in his quarters where he pulled off his day wig. Stood in a guard shelter with one of the animators and had a good chat. After wandering through the royal blacksmith shop and poking about a bit more caught the bus back and rode home.

That evening the concert was next door in a replica of the globe theater built for a Walt Disney Movie. A five piece band of guitars, percussion, keyboards and fiddle made up of musicians new to me performed their own compositions playing nothing traditional or known to me. Comic relief was interspersed with the musical numbers and tea and oat cakes were served for intermission. With rain falling I was glad my RV was close by.

Since my cream had soured along with my milk on the long ferry crossing I struck out for Halifax next morning without breakfast at 7:30. Encountered the same construction delays on the way out of Louisbourg and blessed the rough surface on Highway 4 along the Bras D’or Lakes. Passed Rita MacNeil’s Tea House finding it closed. Stopped at Jungle Jims in Stellarton for lunch and made Halifax by 1:15.