Had to get up early as we had tracks to make. Headed over to the Tim’s for a large double double – needed the energy – and a large with cream and a stop at the Esso gasbar.
A few snaps then off to the restaurant at the other motel for breakfast. Was looking about to see if I could compromise and live in Fredericton, the river was nice the town seemed ok but needed that ocean
We pressed on stopping at Sackville – wanted to see Mount Allison University where Thaddeus Holownia teaches but the stop was a pit stop and another gift of bourbon for Jim. Kendra needed an ATM - First two successful the last not so.
Into Nova Scotia, where the importation of honey bees is illegal, and the realisation that we are ahead of schedule, as we somehow had miscalculated the time needed and we could now cruise.I put it to translating the distances in kilometres but the speed in mph. IT seemed to make it a faster trip We weren’t comfortable enough to go into Halifax but we did stop along the road to make snaps, A third Dylan Thomas Story was read – out of order. Kendra read the second in of the trilogy in the ADVENTURES OF THE SKIN TRADE first which had me wondering how the bloke had come to have his hand stuck in a bottle but didn’t want to show my lack of attentiveness, Like coming into a movie in the middle and drunk, we didn’t proceed to the third but instead went to the first story and then to the final instalment making the read a real test of recall.
Pulling into Musgrave, we prepared to leave the mainland. Gasoline once again, the search for an ATM and some snacks. Rickety bridge and a diversion crossing to Cape Breton, the CN tracks on our side.
We have enough time to take the coast and make it to the Cape Breton Highlands. I was heading to Mabou. Part time home of Robert Frank – and the Rankins – only the Rankins are on the sign.
I had forgot what the Rock was like and Cape Breton does a passable job at imitating it. The rolling cliffs to the sea, the meadows, Kendra kept remarking on the friendliness of the landscape – two words that don’t go together in Newfoundland. I could certainly live here and Carol would be happy as it is only a couple of hours drive from Halifax. The roads were winding, There was ocean, sort of, the fog made seeing P.E.I seem like a mirage.
Stopped at the Mabou sign and was outraged to find home of the Rankins instead of part time home of Robert Frank. Knowing full well that we wouldn’t find his place we still headed down some back roads to see if we could find anything similar – photographs hung out to dry etc.
Knowing my propensity for roaming, I reminded myself that I had to focus and returned to the route 19, stopping along the way to document the ball park – brought out Ubirajara and raced about.
In Mabou proper, Kendra again did her ATM survey and found one that would dispense cash. I photographed downtown.
A debate again on whether we could do the loop through the highlands and decided we couldn’t due to the distance. Even though the ferry left at 10Pm we had to be there an hour early. Headed Inland to North Sydney.
Seeing the NFLD FERRY sign and mileage we again had overestimated the distance and would have four hours to kill in North Sydney.
At the wicket in Marine Atlantic asked the woman when we had to be there in truth and yes 9PM.
-Are you looking for a place to eat?
-Does eat include beer?
-There is the Rawley’s Wharf you have to back out as you cannot enter yet, turn left, then turn right at the stop sign then….
We were lost at after the stop sign and was wandering the town looking for the place until we asked a local who pointed to it not 50 metres from the Marine Atlantic Terminal. In fact we could have parked there and walked over.
Scoped the car park for the variations on the Newfoundland plate and found disappointingly few.
Hesitated when we entered as it seemed that Marine Atlantic was a shill for this place. There was a bar with three stools as we entered, then a vast empty space where I would guess bands and dances were held then all these people cluster about tables eating slowly waiting for the ferry.
We almost turned around but noticed that the entrance looked like the door to the women’s toilet next door. Looked at a menu to see if there was anything I could eat – we were entering territory where vegetarians are endangered species – ah yes fettucine alfredo – a favourite among the minors of Cape Breton.
We were in luck as the wait staff was inattentive and we had time to kill. Ordered a beer which was out, settled for a Labatt’s Bleu. While waiting for the meal we made value judgments about the people eating. I was entering my Atlantic Canada bold mould asking some biker at the table behind us what was written on his t shirt.
BEER IS PROOF THAT GOD WANTED US TO HAPPY BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
Tried to match the people inside with the plates on the cars out front. I kept scanning the horizon for the ferry even though we were told that it would be an hour late.
The fact that it would be an hour late was hopeful as it meant that the sun would rise while at sea.
Dallied as long as we could – we obviously weren’t pros at it as there was this elderly couple, the woman never let go of her purse, who seemed to spend hours over a cup of tea. Their meal did eventually arrive but with the acumen of wasting time wondered if they would make the ferry.
While walking out to a promontory because I saw a ball park, we heard this god awful wail in the distance. It stopped and then horns were being sounded. Looking out we saw beyond ball cars parked as if in a drive in movie facing a stage the size of a dugout. It seemed to be a drive in live show where people sat in their cars. From it came the wailing someone was trying to sing. I think it was country western but wasn’t sure. When the song was over people would honk, I think as a way of applauding but I couldn’t be sure it could have equally been annoyance. Wandered the beach area thought that I saw the ship then headed over to the ferry. We passed the bikers who were just then coming out of the bar
- Enjoy the music?
- Where?
We were there on time parked the car and awaited the ferry. A first we entered the terminal where they were celebrating three days since their last accident – nice big plaque for it. Some people were watching a video on a giant screen.
We decided to go back to the car and finish reading the Thomas – am sure that got a lot of people looking.
It was a slow and arduous process loading the ferry, when on we had to remember all that we needed as we couldn’t return to car. A strange ambience for a ferry that was now going to leave at midnight, there was a show area, in another area there were people queuing up for food, we were going to take a seat up front but Friends was blaring on a giant video screen.
Finally found a place claimed it and then went on deck to see the departure.
The Leif Erikson left at midnight. The time that I had hoped meaning that there would be a bit of light hitting the rock while we were still at sea. I only hoped that I could get up for it.
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