Archive for the 'Down East' Category

Days 12 thru 14

The original plan was that my parents were going to drive my sister to the airport (a 6-hour round trip) on the Monday and that my cousin and I would head back to Saint John on the day after the holiday [1]. However, because the weather had been miserable up to that point, we decided to leave a day early and drop my sister at the airport and save my parents the trip.

We had ample time to get there, and in fact, managed to stop for lunch in Bouctouche [2]; unfortunately, we didn’t have time to stop in Shediac and have our pictures taken at the giant lobster. It also didn’t help that the exit for the airport is not well-marked and ended up doubling back.

After that, my cousin and I went on our merry way, stopping for really, really good ice cream in the middle of nowhere [3]. When the proprietor found out I was from North Bay, he gave me a reproduction of an advertisement featuring the Dionne Quints. Because we weren’t hungry when we got back to Saint John, we stopped at the video store and rented season 1 of Rome, which we stayed up watching until 5am.

My last official day in the Maritimes got off to a very late start, and we ended up going back downtown to hit a couple of used book stores. I haven’t mentioned in my recap how desperately close I came to running out of reading material – usually, I have too much but this time I had far, far too little. I did find a couple of things to throw in my purse, and managed to offload a few of the books I’d picked up in used bookstores in Halifax. Went home, had dinner, watched a documentary about crossword puzzles, and called it a night.

The next morning, for the last time, I threw all my stuff into my suitcase, and what wouldn’t fit into the suitcase went into a cloth bag I’d brought for that very purpose. I got dropped off at the airport, flew to Toronto, and then flew back to North Bay.

And thus ended my vacation. That, and coming home to find my neighbour’s tree had fallen into my backyard. There’s no place like home, right?

[1] Because by this point in the narrative, we’re up to the first weekend in August, which is a long weekend.
[2] Although not at Le Pays de la Sagouine because their restaurant was closed.
[3] I have the postcard from the place, but it’s upstairs and I’m too lazy to go get it.

Days 9, 10 and 11

I feel like I’m in the middle of the Mackenzie Brother’s “12 Days of Christmas” song, around the time when they completely forget what day they’re on.

Anyways, day 9 was Friday. After spending the morning marveling over The Neph’s new tricks (sign language! walking! high fiving! peek-a-boo! reading, sort of!) we went to the beach. Ah, the beach. We didn’t stay for long because a certain short person (The Neph) was getting hungry. So we cut the visit short and vowed to go back later. Little did I know that would be the only time I’d make it there.

Otherwise, it was a low key day. It started raining and being miserable in the afternoon, so no more beach for us. At some point, my sisters pulled out Settlers of Catan (they’d each brought a game, plus Seafarers of Catan) and we started playing. Later, we called my cousin to come over and play, then more cousins, aunts and uncles dropped by, and we ended up teaching them how to play.

Saturday, day 10, dawned windy and overcast, and eventually rainy. It was the day of the big Larocque family reunion, where we were supposed to be competing on family teams. My sister had the bright idea to get us all matching t-shirts, and because we’re who we are, they all had skull and crossbones on the front and our crew position on the back [1]. Due to the rain, the games got cancelled which didn’t make me overly sad because it meant more time to visit with everyone I hadn’t seen in more than 7 years.

Sunday was all about being anti-social, the napping, and generally laying low. The rain continued to fall, the wind picked up significantly, and venturing outside was to risk immediate soaking. So, more Settlers, and early bedtime.

[1] My dad was Captain JC, my mom was First Mate, The Neph was Cabin Boy, and the rest of us were Crew.

Days 6, 7 and 8

Day 6 started at oh-my-god o’clock with a walk to the bus station. It was too early for anything to be open, so thankfully I had an oatcake and a bottle of water. The bus was full, and it took over an hour to get to the airport because of all the stops we had to make. To pass the time (and take my mind of my empty stomach) I knit, read, texted my cousin (along the lines of “where are you now?” “on the bus” “where?” “how should I know?”) and watched a movie on Ivor [1]. At a stop somewhere between Moncton and Saint John I got a muffin and some coffee.

Finally arrived in SJ, and was met by my cousin. We ditched my stuff in his car, and proceeded to walk all over the city [2]. Included in our walk was a stop at a used book store that also sold coins and post cards, and I found a bunch of North Bay and Dionne Quintuplet cards. I bought them for my boss, who’s got an impressive collection of North Bay post cards, and because my library has an impressive collection of Dionne Quintuplet memorabilia.

The next day, my cousin and I headed out to the Carleton Martello Tower and the Saint John Museum. The tower was lovely, but the museum felt like it had been put together by several different groups, and no one talked to anyone else while they put things together. There was no continuity, and no attempt to standardize how things were labeled.

Day 8 (Thursday) dawned cool and rainy. My attempt to hang clothes on the line was laughed at. Eventually, the laundry was done, last minute groceries were acquired, and we left for Moncton to pick up my sister at the airport. A few hours later, we were in the Fatherland, Lameque, having dinner with my aunt and cousin and her husband. Much merriment ensued, and then my sister and I went to our final stop at my grandmother’s, where we were staying along with my parents and other sister, b-i-l, and The Neph.

[1] My iTouch.
[2] An exaggeration, to be certain, but it felt like it.

Day 5

(Clearly, when I said I’d finish writing about my vacation “by the end of the weekend“, I meant “at some unspecified point in the future.” Try and keep up, people!)

Rain, rain, rain. Saturday had been damp and foggy in the morning, but today it was flat out raining. Hustled out to breakfast between the raindrops, and then picked up my rental car for a side trip to Wolfville. Why Wolfville? Well, why not?

Missed the turnoff, so doubled back. By now it wasn’t raining and the sun was coming out – all the better to see the beautiful rolling hills and that the tide was low.

It didn’t take as long as I expected to get there, and the first place I passed on my way into town was one of the reasons I’d come here: Just Us Coffee Roasters. I drank what was possibly the best iced latte in the world (strong and slightly salty) and learned all about fair trade coffee in their museum. Bought six pounds of coffee and hot chocolate, and only wondered how I was going to get this home once I’d left.

Eventually found the library, which was closed. But the public computer room was open, AND they had free wireless. Score! Looked up directions to Gaspereau Valley Fibres and set out to find it. After almost three quarters of an hour of getting lost and doubling back on country roads, I found it. Only to discover it’s closed on Mondays. Hungry and grumpy, I made it back to town and had lunch at the Library Pub.

There are several wineries in the area, and I couldn’t leave without visiting one. In the end, I wasn’t able to leave without three bottles of wine (to add to my concerns about how I was getting this home.) One was a red, one was a white, and the third was a dessert wine made with apples grown in local orchards.

The trip back to town was uneventful. The tide was out, and there were gorgeous acres of rich red mud. I wanted to wallow in it for a few hours.

Pulled myself back together and went back to Halifax, where I found a message from a friend about a library school alumni meeting, and would I be interested in attending? Well, since it meant taking the ferry across the harbour, which was one of the only things I hadn’t been able to do, it wasn’t a hard decision to make.

Called it a night, finished packing, and ran down to the Starbucks (which used to be a bank) and got something to eat in the morning, since it was going to be an early start.

Day 3 and 4

Saturday was market day, where I went to find the vendors I once knew and loved. Got the coffee, the cinnamon roll, the chocolate croissant (for later), and the cranberry juice – didn’t find the Chinese food guy until after. I remember there was a period of time when I shunned the cinnamon rolls because I found them too rich, but now I miss them mightily. They’re more biscuity than bready, and that what makes them unique.

Later, I went and hung around the library until the Pride Parade started. Much fun and merriment ensued – lots of families of all shapes and sizes. From what I heard, this was the first time the Pride Parade followed the same route as all the other major parades.

Afterwards, my cousin came to pick me and my aunt up to go out to their place on the lake. It’s a great house on a lovely piece of real estate. My cousins, who were still just little last time I saw them, are either starting high school or graduating from it.

Sunday was low key, spent wandering around the public gardens then watching my cousin’s soccer game. His team was in second place, and they were playing the first place team. It ended in a tie, but it was a close thing.

For dinner, I went to the Fireside, the martini bar and restaurant we used to gravitate to in grad school, if we weren’t cluttering up the Grad House.

Day 2

Spent the vast majority of the day wandering around the city, visiting all the places I was too poor to shop in as a student. Didn’t buy much, except for some NS yarn and some used books (I only brought three and had visions of it not being enough.)

Went to a Vietnamese restaurant for lunch and ran into an old friend. We spent lunch chatting and it was great to get caught up.

On my way back from my wandering, visited the craft show that was being set up. There were spinners and weavers doing a demo, and I learned how to use a drop spindle. Awesome!

Went to a nice place for dinner, expecting to eat on the patio, but it started to pour rain, so had to go inside with everyone else expecting to eat outdoors.

Watched a couple of French video podcasts and went to bed.

Day 1

Day 1

The flights were uneventful. I was on the same plane as the women’s dragon boat team, Warriors of Hope. They race Saturday and Sunday, and I hope to go see them race at some point.

I knew it would be humid here, but I wasn’t really prepared for the wet slap in the face that hit me at the airport. Caught the shuttle into the city and marveled how much Nova Scotia and North Bay have in common in terms of landscape.

Was struck again and again by waves of nostalgia while walking around. A little sad that the pizza place where I used to get steak subs I still dream about, is gone.

Napped. Well, slept like the dead for almost two hours. Getting up at 4am is hard.

Eventually decided to go for supper, and ended up at a microbrewery and had a fantastic cider-like beer. And this ended day 1.

Marquee Club

Marquee Club to close Jan. 11

NOOOOO!!!!!!

(Thanks to Audra for the sad news)

Wannabe

Shout-out (or is it props? I never know which is the correct term) to Jody at Steel White Table, who sent me a Gmail invite. Here’s the link to my smart-ass answer to his skill-testing question.

And now I’m all homesick for Halifax again. Even though I’m not actually from there, I got to play the part of a Haligonian for two years. Good times, those were.

To market, to market

On Saturday mornings, I love going to the farmer’s market. It’s a leftover habit from Halifax, when I’d go there for Saturday noodles, very strong French roast coffee, and croissants from Mary’s breadbasket. I’d then have to decide in which room to sit, in the smaller area by Mary’s or in the large hall in front of the Keith’s brewery – often it came down to who was busking where. There was this one guy who was pretty tuneless, and sang angry union songs that didn’t seem to make much sense. Or there were the two young kids who were wizards on the fiddle. There was also a string quartet occasionally, or a six-piece bluegrass band. My favourite was the kid on the classical guitar – he couldn’t have been more than 11 or 12, but man, that kid had more talent in his pinky that most people have in their whole body.

The market here isn’t nearly as big or grand as the one in Halifax. There are a few artisians, a few food vendors (Mexican, Jamacian, Chinese, and the Perogie Princess), and some farmers outside. I love getting my veggies here, and yesterday I got some yellow wax beans, raspberries, peaches (from Niagara – ha!), and corn on the cob. The raspberries got crushed, so I mashed them with some sugar for breakfast this morning. The beans are for supper tonight, and the peaches need to ripen up some. The corn was eaten as soon as I got home yesterday. I also had a lovely chat with the couple who operate the coffee stand – his mother is from Cape Breton, and we often swap stories about goings on out there.

There’s something conforting about my Saturday morning ritual, and come winter, I’ll miss going.