Sunday, 26 August 2012

Day 7: No Ferry, No Problem

The ferry to Newfoundland was broken so we had to wait a day to catch the next one.  Instead we decided to drive up the Cabot trail to Cape Breton for the day.  
Our first stop was a little town known for it's Celtic music.  We entered a small cafe, that had a stage at the front that looked like an old kitchen.  Then out came the fiddles.  The music bounced around the room, inviting everyone to caper to the beat. We stuck around for a toe taps and then returned on our voyage.
Along the way we stopped in a tiny town to find a good place for a picnic.  We found a warm sandy beach at the edge of a small Nova Scotian town.  We took off our shoes and let the warm white sand filter through our toes.  We set up the coleman stove on flat rock, and awkwardly huddle around roasting our hot dogs over a blue flame.  Julia laughed at our gawky attempt at cooking, the look of resignation on Brent's face.   His expression was one that said, "I don't like this, but I won't complain about it".  When we finished eating lunch we rolled our pants up and dipped our toes in the salty water.  
Back on the Cabot Trail, we entered Cape Breton Provincial Park.  The roads weaved the landscaped, twisting, turning, climbing, falling.  Each lookout provided a completely different view; we saw rocky cliffs that protested ocean waves, skies that poured sunlight onto endless seascapes, and hills blanketed by thick green forest that swelled into the clouds.
As the sun began the descend we stopped at a little restaurant and filled our bellies with an assortment of seafood.  We sat in a whitewashed porch that over looked a local harbour.  The setting sun, and Brent, hurried us a long, as we did not want to drive the windy roads in dark.  His assessment was a good one because as we rounded one of the corners a large, lumbering moose appeared on the road.  We slowed down and watched him disappear into the trees.  It was amazing how such a large animal could become practically invisible with only a few steps into the woods.  We could however, hear him snapping branched with his strong unyielding body.  We took this warning, and drove cautiously to our campsite in Sydney.

No comments:

Post a Comment