Tuesday, 27 June 2006

Grand Bruit to Burgeo (Newfoundland)

It was dark inside the storehouse when I woke up, but I could see the light creeping in around the door. I took a stroll around Grand Bruit and took some photographs in the fog. By 7:30 am I could tell where the sun was behind the clouds and then some patches of blus sky appeared overhead, and as the ferry arrived the sun finally broke through. The turnaround time for the ferry was pretty quick - in about 5 minutes we were loaded and off for the 3 hour voyage to Burgeo. We were back under the grey cloud but clear off the fog which we could see lying along the coast, with the mountain tops poking through. En route there were Orca, but only the skipper got to see these (damn) but we did get a good view of some dolphins. I don't know what species they were, but they were quite large.

We were enveloped by the fog again as we came into Burgeo. The place seemed deserted as I cycled from the wharf. By comparison with Grand Bruit, Burgeo is a heaving metropolis of 2000 people. Away from the wharf there was less fog and more people, shops and house. It's not surprising that Burgeo is so big as it is the only place along this part of the coast that a road access; the 480 is a side road off the TransCanada Highway that travels for 148 km through 'the barrens' to Burgeo with no other settlements along the way.

I cycled round the town and tried to suss out the lie of the land. I found the supermarket and stocked up on food. As I don't have much cycling over the next couple of days I could buy much more than I would normally carry to give myself a bit of variety. Having bought loads of food I then went to Joy's Place and treated myself to lunch. From them I found out where to find the Town Office (to get a rough map of town) and the school (where the library and internet were) When I was in the washroom at the library, I was dryinig my hands under the blower, when I noticed the following on a condom machine : "Condoms $1 - Loonys only" ! (A condom machine in a school/library - very enlightened!) Loonys and Toonys incidentally are what the Canadians call the $1 and $2 coins. My theory is Loony comes from the French L'une and Toony from the English Two.

Burgeo is quite a pretty place too, with lots of water. Around each corner is either a little lake or an inlet from the sea, so sheltered and calm that they almost look like a lake too. The town seems to have been built on a series of islands that are now seamlessly connected. From town I cycled out to Sandbanks Provincial Park where I pitched the tent ($13, showers free) The park has a series of trails, but as it was foggy I cycled back to town and watched the France v Spain match at Joy's Place. As it's difficult to find anything to eat that isn't 'something and chips' I tried the one of the Chinese 'combination dishes' on offer at Joy's Place. It was pretty good and certainly made a pleasant change.

Distance: 19.3 km
Cycling time: 1:20
Total distance: 2460.1 km

Monday, 26 June 2006

J T Cheeseman Provincial Park to Grand Bruit (Newfoundland)

The sun was nowhere in evidence this morning, which was cloudy and grey. I packed up my things and headed back to Port aux Basques, this time by road - the TransCanada Highway 1 - to get a comparison with the T'Railway. Of course the T'Railway on an aesthetic level in that yesterday I was riding it in beautiful weather, whereas now I was cycling into the wind on a grey morning. On a more practical level you can travel much faster on the paved road surface, but you also have more hills and the occasional cuttings that obscure the views. Of course the T'Railway will be quieter, but with no services. (or signposts)

Port aux Basques was again swaddled in a light fog as I stopped off at the Harbour Restaurant for breakfast. Newfoundland feels colder than Nova Scotia, even when the sun is out, and when the fog blows in the temperature noticeably drops.

I set off out of Port aux Basques at 10 am, taking a short cut through the ferry terminal onto the 470 road to Rose Blanche. It's no word of a lie to say that it was a beautiful ride. Around every corner another improbably beautiful view. That's the sort of thing you invariably read in a tourist brochure and end up disappointed, but here it's true. A new vista onto the mountains with their knuckles of bare rock protruding through a carpet of green, big lakes and tumbling waterfalls and rivers of tea-brown water, little ponds with yellow flowered lilies and croaking frogs. Small blue irises line the road and the inconspicuous pitcher plants made conspicuous by their large dark red flowers appeared common in the wet boggy areas. Sheltered inlets from the sea and tidal pools. (You can tell it was beautiful when I start getting all poetic) The only thing missing was the sun and a little blue sky to make my photos look spectacular.

No moose though. Elusive beasts. How can you hide something that big? Moose is Scottish for mouse, so maybe I should be looking for something smaller? I did see a little shrew jumping around in panic at the side of the road - no fatter than the width of my thumb. The other thing I saw all along the road was discarded Tim Horton's cups (and other assorted rubbish) I lost count of how many I saw; I've come to hate Tim Horton's as much as McDonalds and their like - they obviously cater for the lazy and stupid. You've carried that cup along full, so how much more difficult is it to carry it away when it's empty rather than just throw it out of the window? I even heard someone in the Visitor Information centre ask where the next Tim Horton's was! Do you think they put something addictive in the food and drink to make people dependent? It wouldn't surprise me. The tobacco industry denied for years that they manipulated nicotine levels to make their cigarettes more addictive.

I cycled through Isle aux Morts and past Burnt Islands to Rose blanche at the end of the road. The village is quite pretty, the roads curving around and over the rocks where it can (making it hard to cycle) and the buildings line the waterfront or are fitted in wherever they will go. I stopped at the Friendly Fisherman Cafe for lunch - Scallops and fries. I'm happy to spend my money in the little family run places to support the local community.

It was raining lightly when I came out and headed round the one-way system (because the roads are so not narrow, not because the traffic is busy) and out to the Rose Blanche lighthouse, which was rebuilt in the 1990', for a whistle-stop tour. I didn't have much time as I had to cycle back to get the ferry to La Poile and Grand Bruit. It was raining heavier when I left the lighthouse for the short trip back. One hill was so steep that I only made it to the top by zig-zagging across the full width of the narrow road. A tricky operation.

The ferrymen didn't seem too friendly, and virtually ignored me. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the 'Newfie' accents were so broad as to be virtually unintelligible. My luggage went into a crate to be loaded into the hold and the bike was tied to the railing at the side. There were 2 passengers going home to La Poile, and 2 others going home to Grand Bruit (Gron Bruit, Gron Brewi or Grand Brit - take your pick of pronunciations) who were a bit more sociable. Everything has to go by ferry to these communities, so there was a new bed and mattress, other furniture, a satellite dish and boxes of supplies. The trip to La Poile takes an hour and a half, and to Grand bruit another hour. I dozed in my wet clothes for some of the way in the old airline seats that have been fitted in to the passenger area. (No safety briefing here) Adult one-way $5.50, Bike $2.50

Grand Bruit is a pretty well kept little place, with only about 40 permanent residents although this goes up to over 100 in the summer with family and other visitors. There is a camping area behind the church, but I was told I was welcome to camp in the storehouse on the quay as it was raining. Even here there is a C@P site with relatively fast broadband access in the school (2 pupils) so I could check email and do some blog.

It's quite nice to walk around a village where there are no roads - just a concrete footpath wide enough for a quad-bike to move things around. The little store was closed by the time I got there (or wasn't open anyway on Monday evenings) so I couldn't buy any beer to take to the Cramalott Inn - basically just a little shed, bring your own beer. I went in anyway to be sociable as this seemed the only way to meet the locals. There were only about 4 people there when I first arrived and I was kindly given a beer - my first for quite a while it seems to me.

Distance: 63.3 km
Cycling time: 4:13
Total distance: 2440.8 km

Sunday, 25 June 2006

Port aux Basques to J T Cheeseman Provincial Park (Newfoundland)

The cafeteria was serving breakfast, including the bog-standard North American breakfast; eggs, sausage/bacon/ham, homefries, toast, tea/coffee. Newfoundland (Nfld) is in it's very own time zone, so after a smooth 5 hour 20 minute crossing we docked at 7:50 am Newfoundland time. We had been sailing through fog, but as we arrived into Port aux Basques the fog was clearing and immediately I was in love with Newfoundland. It reminded me so much of the western Isles of Scotland. It puts me into something of a quandary. I'm already thinking of spending much more time here than I had 'planned' - but if I spend too long here then it may jeopardise any chance of getting across Canada and the Rockies before the end of the cycling season. But I guess that's the beauty of travelling without any fixed plan or schedule, you can change as you want.

I was planning just to travel up the west coast of Newfoundland and then get the ferry over to Quebec. Now I have 2 decisions to make; 45 km east of Port aux Basques, the road ends - but there is a series of small ferries along the south coast that serve the small fishing communities that have no road access. Once committed, it will take 4 or 5 days to get as far as Bay l'Argent on the Burin Peninsular. There is one short section to cycle in the middle, but it will give me 3 days of rest from cycling. The second decision will whether I cycle all the way to St Johns on the Avalon Peninsular and back again, but I can delay that decision until I get to the delightfully named Goobies.

I had been first to board the ferry in North Sydney, but I was last to leave in Port aux Basques. I waited until all the cars had left before cycling out of the ferry terminal. I had forgotten to ask where the Visitor Information Centre was. (I put this down to tiredness and lack of sleep) In North Sydney there was one in the Marine Atlantic terminal building, so I was on the verge of turning back when I spied a sign for the VIC in the distance. (A white ? on horrible brown background)

I have plenty of time on my hands today (where does that saying come from; "time on my hands") as there is a campsite 7 km west of Port aux Basques, so I spent quite some time in the Visitor Information Centre. (VIC) While I was there the fog rolled in and Port aux Basques disappeared from view although oddly the VIC sat alone basking in the sun. The friendly and helpful lady in the VIC (who bore a more than passing resemblance to Dot Cotton) actually hails from one of the little fishing villages that's on the ferry. 'Outports' is the word that is used to describe these fishing villages that have to access except by boat.

When I finally cycled back down into Port aux Basques, the fog was starting to thin and blow away. As I sat in the Harbour restaurant, the ferry departed on its return journey to North Sydney and Port aux Basques too basked in the sunshine. It was so beautiful. I suddenly felt so lonely in spite of the beautiful surroundings, or perhaps because it them - having no-one to share it with.

I took a tour round town. Most places were closed as it was a Sunday. When the fog blew in once again - it was apt to appear as quickly as it could disappear - I dropped in to the Hotel Port aux Basques and sat alone in their lounge bar watching the second half of the England v. Ecuador game. David Beckham scored within 5 minutes of me turning on the TV, so I'll claim full credit for that.

From Port aux Basques I rode out on the T'Railway - an old railway line that runs all the way from Port aux Basques to St John's in the east, a distance of 883 km (547 miles) (www.trailway.ca) The T'Railway starts not surprisingly next to the Railway Heritage Museum (closed in spite of the sign) and runs through some beautiful country in the short distance to the J T Cheeseman Provincial Park where I camped for the night ($13, showers free. Drinking water to be boiled) I was so tired after only 4 hours sleep on the ferry that I spent most of the evening snoozing in the tent, only getting up at 10:30 to have a shower and collect my now recharged batteries from the camp office.

Distance: 31.3 km
Cycling time: 2:38
Total distance: 2377.5 km

Saturday, 24 June 2006

Big Bras d'Or to North Sydney (Nova Scotia)

The morning was a uniform dull grey. There was the occasional smattering of raindrops but it was dry when I set off at 7:30. I carried on along the road I had arrived on last night; the map I have isn't very detailed, and in the absence of any helpful road-signs I ended up back on highway 105 just before junction 16. A happy side-effect of this was that I soon found somewhere for breakfast - The Captain's Table. (I noticed on a packet of sweetener: "Take only on the advice of a physician"!)

I crossed the bridge to leave Seal Island and soon left the highway to take the quieter side road through Florence to Sydney Mines. There I went the Cape Breton Fossil Centre and the Sydney Mines Heritage Centre. The fossil museum was of special interest to me with my background in botany and for a small museum they had some interesting displays and exhibits. The reason for so many fossils being here is obviously the same reason as the coal mining industry - the carboniferous swamps and forests of 250 to 320 million years ago. The entrance fee also covered entry to the heritage museum housed next door in the former railway station building. I had a personal guided tour and heard the phrase "believe it or not" about 250 to 320 million times as well. It was quite interesting though.

From Sydney Mines I simply followed the road down to the coast and along into North Sydney - directly to the ferry terminal (http://www.marine-atlantic.ca/) I booked myself onto the 11 pm sailing across to Port Aux Basques in Newfoundland, then set about the various things I wanted to do in town. This turned out to be quite tricky as there is not much in North Sydney. No bike shop, no camping store. How hard can it be to buy a little notebook? Quite hard as it happens. I stocked up on food, then went to the library to type blog.

A tap on the shoulder meant I had been found again. John was standing there just as I was in contact with Kathy by email (She was using the wireless access at the ferry terminal) It seems our lives are permanently intertwined at the moment. There was a camping supplies shop in Sydney about 20 kilometres away, and they kindly offered to drive me over there in search of a new fuel-pump for my camping stove. By now it raining with a consistent monotony, so I was pleased I wasn't cycling today. I locked the bike up at the ferry terminal and we drove round to Sydney. It turned out to be a fruitless trip as the shop was closed and looked like it was likely to remain so permanently.

We did a tour of Sydney - uninspiring in the rain - and I'm sure that John a retired urban planner (Sim-City for real) can't help but cast a professional eye over places like this with dismay. We went to a small local museum in Sydney's oldest house - the Cossit House (http://museum.gov.ns.ca/ch/)

Bras d'Or (pron. brador), if my French serves me correct means 'arm of gold', so I wonder if that's where Labrador comes from as in La Bra[s] d'Or. Answers please on a postcard.

It was still raining when John and Kathy dropped me off back at the ferry terminal and it continued to rain heavily, so I decided not to venture into town but stayed and ate at the cafeteria in the ferry terminal; at least the fish and chips were freshly cooked and not sitting on a hotplate for hours. It gave me plenty of time to read up on Newfoundland and think about what I want to do... There was also a free internet terminal in the terminal, which although it was a pain to use, meant I could keep my blog up to date.

The departure was supposed to be at 11:30 - much later than I'm normally awake on this trip so I was feeling very weary. With the ferry arriving late, we didn't even start boarding until 12:30, which in one way was lucky as it was only raining lightly for the 40 minutes I was standing waiting outside. I was the first to board and lead the cars up the ramp onto the car deck. We finally set sail at 2 am, by which time I had had something to eat (Mr Sub - a SUBWAY clone) and retired to my dromitory bed. The bar didn't open, but I didn't need any alcoholic help to sleep. Most of the beds were vacant, and there was no-one else in my section. (I had asked for non-snoring) so I had a good 4 hour sleep until the lights came on and the announcements started.

Fare: Adult (one-way) $27, Bike $12, Dorm. bed $16. Total inc. tax = $57.40

Distance: 30.7 km
Cycling time: 1:59
Total distance: 2346.2 km

Friday, 23 June 2006

Ingonish Beach to Big Bras d'Or, Seal Island (Nova Scotia)

My alarm went off at 5:30 and just as I was steeling myself to get up it started to rain - a reprieve - I settled back down to sleep. The rain lasted no more than an hour so I packed up the tent and set off into the cloudy morning. It was still breezy so the mosquitoes were kept at bay, although the dozens of bites I have were itching worse this morning. I even have a bite on my butt cheek - which I can only have got through 2 layers of clothing!

From the campground the Cabot Trail road heads alongside the north shore of the Ingonish Harbour inlet for 3 kilometres, and you can see the the road on the other side as it heads back on its 5 kilometre journey to the base of Smokey Mountain. If you're ever thinking of cycling the Cabot Trail, you definitely want to cycle it clockwise; that way you'll the prevailing wind behind you as you head northwards along the west coast and you'll have the easier climbs. The climb up Smokey mountain was the easiest of the lot and I was hardly ever in bottom gear. At the top I stopped at the picnic site which had good views of the road as it starts its descent the other side. Just as I set off again, I stopped to take a picture when John and Cathy arrived in their RV; they're always joking that I'm always ahead of them in spite of being on a bike, but more luck of timing than leg-power. We wer both stuck behind a garbage truck for a short way as it made its slow arthritic progress down the steep gradient, but once past it was an exhilarating fast descent. With nothing behind and a clear view ahead I could use the full width of the road and take the shortest fastest route all the way to the tight hairpin bend at the bottom.

Now I was back in the more mundane world of grinding out the miles. The road was a little bit hilly and the eind was gainst me, but not too much. I plodded south along the coast, playing leap-frog with the smelly garbage truck. I stopped at the French River General Store for a tea - a tea-bag in a polystyrene cup heated up in the microwave. Surprisingly good, so I guess the quality of the tea is the most important factor.

After another hour plodding along the road, I stopped at the Clucking Hen restaurant in North Shore for lunch. They laughed when I complained about their sign I had passed on the road. "Clucking Hen - 15 mins. ahead" It had taken me an hour I said... "Peddle harder" they laughed.

The cloudy weather yielded some rain for a few kilometres, but then it was just blustery and muggy. Shortly after Indian Brook I left the Cabot Trail and took the 312 road which runs alongside St Anns Bay and then onto a long spit, at the end of which is a cable ferry across the short gap to Englishtown. The ferry schedule said "5 minutes after first vehicle boards" but might just as well have said "When we feel like it". There was a queue of vehicles the other side, but weren't allowed to board. I waited for half an hour and finally there was a flurry of activity and the ferry finally came over. The sign also said "All vehicles - $5" but bicycles were obviously free.

From Englishtown, I was buffeted by the wind and had a hard climb up to highway 105. There was no choice of road. Turning left onto the highway I then had a long climb up Kellys Mountain with the cars zipping past and the lorries lumbering past more slowly. Luckily there was a good shoulder all the way. There was a scenic lookoff on each side of the highest point, one on the St Anns Bay side and one on the Bras d'Or side. I had a long freewheel down the other side until I turned into the wind again on the approach to the Seal Island bridge. I wasn't looking forward to the bridge in the blustery conditions but it turned out to be worse than I feared. As I climbed up to the bridge I could see that the shoulder disappeared completely. There was a sign saying no pedestrians, but nothing to say cyclists were prohibited. Up on the bridge the buffeting wind was quite strong so I just rode across in the middle of the lane so that any vehicles behind would just have to wait until it was clear to pass. Luckily there was not much traffic when I went across.

I was hot and weary after all that effort so I stopped as soon as could for another lunch, at Fitzgeralds restaurant. I was relieved to leave the highway at the next juntion and follow the signs to the Mountain Vista campground at Big Bras d'Or. I couldn't help but laugh as I rolled down the campsite road to see there ahead of me John and Kathy's RV. They must be getting worried now that they've acquired a cycling stalker. Once agin they invited me to dinner, so after doing a load of laundry I was treated to a lovely chicken curry. They are also planning to go to Newfoundland, but they're giving me a day or two headstart...

Distance: 84.5 km
Cycling time: 5:42
Total distance: 2315.5 km

Thursday, 22 June 2006

A "rest" day at Ingonish Beach

I allowed myself the luxury of a lie-in until 6:30, but wouldn't have been able to stay in the tent too long after this anyway as this was when the sun first hit the tent, and with no clouds to weaken its strength it would soon be too hot inside. From the campsite I cycled the short distance to the start of the Franey Trail; this included a steep climb on a gravel road that I soon gave up trying to cycle - this is supposed to be a rest day dammit!

There was no respite from the mosquitoes on the trail. Again I had to cover up in spite of the heatbut I soon felt like a human pin-cushion as it seems they can easily bite through any thin clothing. At one point I turned aroound to see a cloud of dozens of them behind me, their wings glinting in the sunlight, like a squadron of little fighter planes. I ran.

The trail climbs from 95 to 430 metres and once again there was plenty of evidence of moose, but no moose in the flesh. From the top of the trail there were some great views of the Clyburn River Valley and out to the Atlantic Ocean shimmering under the low morning sun. The trail forms a loop that takes about 3 hours to walk.

I leapt on the bike to escape the mosquitoes, then headed to the libray to type in my long-winded blog. Cathy and John arrived to do their blog too. It's amazing how much seeing a familiar face can cheer you up. By now it was early afternoon - I don't know where all the time goes to. I had a less strenuous afternoon; I visited the Ingonish Beach (too windy) and toured the Freshwater Lake Trail, and then in the evening I cycled out to Middle Head and hiked the trail there. The sun was getting low and the day was cooling down, so the mosquitoes were getting active. Any spot not covered with DEET would get bitten. They can even land on you hand while your walking along, arms swinging, and start biting. Brutal.

I had picked a campsite out in the open as I think this is better for avoiding the bugs, and there was enough breeze in the evening to make it bearable while cooking dinner. Later on I dropped in on John and Cathy in their RV for a social visit, sitting in comfort, and drinking English Breakfast tea that never tasted so good. I'm getting spoiled.

Distance: 30.3 km
Cycling time: 2:09
Total distance: 2231.0 km

Wednesday, 21 June 2006

MacIntosh Brook to Ingonish Beach campsite, Cape Breton National Park (Nova Scotia)

I had hoped to get another early start but the rain arrived at around 4 am and rained continuously until after 7 am. I got up to "cook" breakfast in the kitchen room; the weather looked bright and changeable. Here I found I was encountering a new biting insect - the no-see-um - a tiny semi-transparent little pest.

It was almost 9 am when I set off - with trepidation, as I knew I had a hardclimb ahead of me. About 3 km along the road was a short interpretive trail and a replica Scottish crofters hut. This just delayed the inevitable as the climb started almost immediately after the Lone Shieling trail. It was a relentless bottom gear climb. Sometimes it's best not to look ahead at all - it's just too depressing. Just look down at your front wheel and the white line at the side of the road and try to keep your legs turning through the pain. Do anything to distract yourself from the pain and the hill ahead. For me, I have a set of songs that I sing (or here recite in my head as I didn't have the breath to sing) Billy Bragg - Between the Wars. The Pogues - And the band played Waltzing Matilda. Dick Gaughan - The world turned upsidedown & The Worker's Song. Believe me, you don't want 'Mr Telephone Man' or 'The Birdie Song' in your head as you toil uphill.

Don't even entertain the though of stopping for a rest, as once that though has entered your head, you'll be stopping, you won't make it to the top in one go. I stopped. At about the halfway point, chest heaving, heart pounding, sweat stinging my eyes.

If you're thinking of cycle-touring, this is why you don't want to do it.

Why am I doing this? I could be at home, feet up, beer in hand, watching the World Cup on the telly. (Oh yeah, I remember, I'd have to watch England try to play) I already had my helmet and cycling specs off to help dissipate the vast amounts of heat I was generating, so when some light rain rain began to fall, it was a welcome arrival. I started off again, and my legs felt strong and fresh but after 10 metres the lactic burn began again and after 20 all memory of a rest was erased. I put my head down and ground it out.

once I reached the top of North Mountaini (457m) there was a long flast section where there was just enough gradient and tailwind to keep me rolling slowly along without peddling. I scanned the scrub at the sides of the road for any sign of moose. All too soon the road fell away in front of me and I was hurtling down the other side of the mountain...

Now, even the glimpse of a hill was enough to strike fear to my heart but it was a pleasant surprise to find I could cycle up them easily, and up to the Sunrise Lookoff before I rolled down into CapeNorth where I stopped at the Morrison Restaurant for lunch. I don't eat burgers, so I'm no expert, but their homemade 'Angus' burger seemed good to me (But then at the moment I'd eat the arse-end of a rhino)

By the time I came out the sun was shining and it was like a different day. The sun feels so much hotter here than in England, even with the wind. I stopped off at a little store to buy some food (I'd just eaten lunch and already I was thinking of food) The chocolate and caramel capucchino cakes looked just so tempting, but in the date squares in oatmeal and an apple seemed a healthier option. From Cape North I headed around through South Harbour, then left the Cabot Trail for the 'Alternative Scenic Route'. All along this road as far as White Point there were some fantastic views, and the sun was playing its part. Not that the road was easy, it was quite hilly, with one hill at Smelt Brook so steep that I had to get off and push as my thighs were screaming at this new effort to climb. (I must give myself a rest day soon) From White Point the road cuts across country and again I was scanning the scrubby land for moose. I don't what to be the only person to come to Cape Breton and not see moose!

The road dropped down into New Haven and then followed the coast round to Neils Harbour where I stopped for a tea and an ice cream. From Neils Harbour, I was back on the Cabot Trail as it looped inland round to Black Brook Cove. I had this lovely spot all to my self and I would have loved to have been able to relax here for an hour or two, but I still had some distance to go to get to a campsite for the night. I did stop long enough to rest for a short while and have a snack. Oh my God, those date squares - they are just so yummy. I'm going to have to look for those again.

Back on the road again, through the scenic viewpoints of MacKinnons Cove, Green Cove, Lakies Head, Broad Cove and into Ingonish - I'd taken so many pictures I was in danger of getting a blister on my shutter finger. In All I took 100 photos today, 89 of them this afternoon. I finally arrived at the Cape Breton National Park campsite at Ingonish Beach after 7 pm, tired but happy.

So, if you're thinking of cycle-touring, this is why you do want to do it.

The welcome I received was overwhelming. Firstly the mosquitoes, who were on me as soon as I stopped at the campsite office to pick up a self-registration form. In spite of covering up straightaway and spraying on the DEET I picked up some new bites. Secondly, as I putting up my tent in a light passing shower, my friend John braved the mosquitoes to inviteme for dinner with him and Cathy in their RV. After the luxury of a hot shower I was treated to a good meal and some cold beers. Like me they are embarked on a long journey; they've travelled all the way from Santa Barbara, California in their RV. It has all the comforts of home - not like the caravans I remember from home - this is the way to travel. Cycling? What was I thinking of

Distance: 79.0 km
Cycling time: 5:40
Total distance: 2200.7 km

Tuesday, 20 June 2006

Cheticamp to MacIntosh Brook Campsite, Cape Breton National Park (Nova Scotia)

I was awake before 5 am, so I allowed myself a 20 minute snooze then got up at 5:15 - Shock, horror, after days of sun there was cloud in the sky. It was mostly to the south and west and was still looking clear to the east. I was packed up and cycling the Cabot Trail by 6 and was impressed that the road workers were there before me setting out cones. It was pleasantly cool and the wind still blustery, and seeming to come from all different directions. There were a couple of steep climbs along the western, Gulf of St Lawrence coast of the Cabot Trail. The road then turns inland and climbs up French Mountain from sea level to 450 metres - a long slow drag, but luckily no really steep sections, so just a low-gear slog.

The sun was starting to peek over mountains as I ground my way to the top. It had taken me nearly 2 hours to do those 20 kilometres. At the top of French Mountain is the start of the Skyline Trail, so by 8 am I was pulling on my walking boots and back pack and heading off on the 9.2 km circuit in search of moose. With my early start I'd had the road and the trail to myself and at 9 am I stopped at the first scenic lookoff for some breakfast. I was just pondering the wisdom of making a salami tortilla sandwich in bear country when there was a noise and some movement on the track behind me... but it was just my first encounter of the day with another hiker. There was not much to see along the trail in terms of a view, so I was constantly scanning around for any sign of moose or bear. At the end of the trail , the headland has an area of information panels and boardwalks to protect the fragile plant life from damage and erosion. Here there were some great views south along the coast - I could see much of the road up French Mountain that I had just cycled.

It had clouded over and was warm and hazy, so not ideal for taking photos although the wind was so strong at this exposed spot that standing still to take a photo was tricky in itself. On the return journey I took the longer rougher hikers trail, but the only sign of moose were to be found on the ground - as droppings and hoof prints. As I was getting back to the start of the trail I did bump into the Californian couple who had been at the Hyclass campground with me and who I'd also met at the Manitou Restaurant in Port Hood. They said that they would be in Ingonish in a couple of days time so I might see them there.

By 10:30 am I had done 2 hours of hard cycling and a 2.5 hour hike. Sometimes I'm amazed that someone so naturally indolent can actually do so much.

I was on the plateau on the top of the Cape Breton highlands as I continued cycling the Cabot Trail along to the Bog Trail - a short boardwalk trail with interesting information panels explaining the ecology of this 'slope fen'. From the Bog trail, I was heading north to MacKensie Mountain with its views down to Fishing Cove to the west and the MacKensie River Valley to the east. From the top of MacKensie mountain the road plunges down a series of sweeping curves, long straights and hairpin bends that, when photographed from the air, make a dramatic postcard picture. I was glad to be going down and not up. By the very first scenic stop my disc brakes were too hot to touch. The clouds had the temerity to spit with rain as I sped down to Pleasant Bay.

By now it was about 1:45 I stopped at the Rusty Anchor Restaurant for some lunch, and who should walk in but my Californian friends Cathy and John - by now it would have been rude not to exchange names. They had seen moose on the Skyline Trail; a mother and calf. After lunch I went down to the Pleasant Bay harbour, to the Whale Interpretation Centre to watch their video and exhibits, then booked myself onto a whale-watching trip. It seemed like a good excuse for not cycling up any more mountains. At first it wasn't looking too good; we had no sightings for a long while and then just a few distant glimpses. It was nice to be out on a boat anyhow, with good views of the Cape Breton coastline and all the seabirds. On the return trip we had some really good sightings of Pilot and Minke whale (so I'm told) some of which were very close to the boat. (Shame on Japan, Norway and Iceland for still hunting these fine beasts)

While I'd been out on the whale-watching boat, they'd kindly recharged my iRiver (portable disc photo-storage/music player) for me, but now I had exhausted my camera batteries so I went to the Mountain View Motel/Restaurant where they kindly let me recharge them whilst I ate a scallop dinner. I had decided not to tackle North Mountain as I had a few things I needed to do - check brake pads (still good after 2000 km) clean chain (always a dirty job) and mend cycling helmet (again!) I didn't have far to go to the MacIntosh Brook campground, still part of the National Park. There was an honesty box system ($21) but no showers and water to be boiled.

Distance: 41.1 km
Cycling time: 3:01
Total distance: 2121.7 km

Monday, 19 June 2006

Inverness to Cheticamp campground, Cape Breton National Park (Nova Scotia)

Another cloudless sunny morning. Looks like another hot one. The mosquitoes and black-flies were slow on the uptake this morning and I had everything packed and the tent half down before they found me. Must be the wind confusing them. By 7 am I was on the road back into Inverness in search of breakfast. Nowhere else was open so I ended up back at the Coal Miners Cafe. After yesterdays experience I was happy to go back to somewhere I knew. It's the sort of place you'd always be happy to find on your travels.

I was heading north out of Inverness by 8 am and the route 19 continued its hilly progress. I only stayed on the road for a few kilometres before taking a chance on the dirt road going through Broad Cove to Dunvegan. At first it seemed like a bad choice as 2 dogs rushing out of the first house barking brought me to a standstill. Luckily they were more bark than bravado and a flying stone sent them scurrying home. I had made a good choice to come this way - absolutely beautiful. I seemed to want to stop for yet another photo every few yards. I think maybe the effort of sweating every inch of your journey unbalances your mind and heightens your emotions. Or maybe it really was that beautiful. Hopefully the photos will do it justice.

I rejoined the route 19 very briefly before turning off onto the 219 through Dunvegan. There wasn't much to see along this stretch of road, but with the wind at my back I was again making good progress. The road was pretty quiet so I took my t-shirt off, at the risk of looking like a football hooligan, to get some morning sun to my pasty white body. Margaree Harbour caused another blitz of photo taking as I crossed the bridge into Belle Cote, where I stopped for a pot of tea. This gave me an opportunity to make some notes on where all the photos where taken this morning; even by the end of the day it's sometimes difficult to remember where all the photos were taken.

From Belle Cote the road was much more open and scenic, with fine views up and down the coast, but on the downside, was also much rougher, narrower and busier. This is another area with strong Acadian roots, but I was a little disappointed with Cheticamp. Again it was so spread out and to me, used to european compactness, this seems to rob it of character and a sense of community. Maybe if you spend a bit of time here you can get a better appreciation of the place. Apparently it has smartened up a lot in the last 10 years, changing from a working fishing village to more of a tourist destination, with whale watching tours and the like. I stopped at the Co-op Artisanale - an Acadian restaurant with the staff in Acadian costume - for a light lunch. From there I went to the local C@P site to use the internet. When I came out it seemed that the sun was even hotter than before even though it was now after 3 pm and the wind was still blowing quite strongly.

I cycled out of Chetivamp to the entry point to the Cape Breton National Park and the information office there. It turned out that the campsite I was hoping to stay at was closed because of a problem with the water supply so I decided to stay at the campground next to the information centre. In the Campsite I met Iain Bain an expat Scot from Caithness who'd come to Canada 30 years ago. We arranged to go out to eat in Cheticamp in the evening and in the meantime I took a trip out on the bike. I went along the Cabot Trail - to see where I'll be cycling tomorrow (There are some steep hills that were hard work even without panniers) and to get some photos with the sun low to the west illuminating the gulf coast. I was hard work cycling back against the wind. I met up with Iain again and he drove us back into Cheticamp to the Harbour restaurant where we had a pleasant meal (Seafood fettuccine for me) with Black Pearl Ale.

Distance: 88.2 km
Cycling time: 4:51
Total distance: 2080.6 km

Sunday, 18 June 2006

Havre Boucher to Inverness (Nova Scotia)

The black-flies at the campsite are the worst I've come across so far. At dusk they were bad, but there didn't seem to be any about in the mornig - until 1 minute after I got out of the tent. They're fairly primitive beasts. Not for them the surgical hypodermic of the mosquito, they just chew you until you bleed. For them it's Russian Roulette; if they chomp on a nerve, they get squished. If they're lucky enough to find an insensitive patch of skin you only know about it when you see a patch of blood. I found one in the tent that had obviously had it's fill; it looked like a different beast entirely with a bright red abdomen. The thing that annoys me most is the impertinence of it; it's like they're trying to rob you. If you want my blood, at least have the courtesy to ask. (Of course I'd probably still say no)

The day dawned cloudless and sunny and still, but I knew that the wind would arrive soon enough. This made it easy to make an early start - a quick banana breakfast (to escape the black-flies) and I was on the road by 7:30 following route 4 round to Auld's Cove. I stopped here at a little gift shop/seafood restaurant and met the worlds most annoying person. (Give me black-flies any day of the week) He had only one mode of communication: shouting. "SO, YOU'RE FROM CAMBRIDGE - THAT'S WHERE OXFORD UNIVERSITY IS, RIGHT?" No, that would be Oxford. I hadn't ordered breakfast but it arrived anyway; fishcakes and toast. It's lucky that I'm an easy-going guy and not picky about my food. Rhubarb crumble and cream was the breakfast pudding! It's difficult to convey in words just how annoying this person was, and he thought that Margaret Thatcher was "a fine woman", which was the final nail in that coffin. "DO YOU LIVE FAR FROM MARGARET THATCHER'S AREA?" Not far enough. Heaven and Hell wouldn't be far enough apart as far as I was concerned. I may be no angel, but the Iron Lady's going to be melting with her fellow war criminals. Yes, I may be going to Newfoundland, but no I don't want to buy the t-shirt from you. I couldn't read the scribbled total on the bill, so he proceeded to shout the entire bill at me. Yes, it may be a good cause, but I wouldn't sponsor you if you were the last person on earth - in which case what would I be sponsoring you for anyway? I left in such a hurry that I forgot my fruit and biscuits, but I wasn't going back for them. This man's company was like hot needles to the eyeballs. So, if you're ever in Auld's Cove - avoid 'Lobster Suppers'.

I was now on the highway 104 for the short trip over the Canso Causeway, the worlds deepest causeway and the only connection between Cape Breton and mainland Nova Scotia. It was started in 1952 and opened in 1955. Once over the causeway I stopped at the Visitor Information Centre (VIC) to find someone normal to talk to and get my mind back on an even keel. From Port Hasting I was heading north on route 19 along the west coast of Cape Breton. I'd asked at the VIC about the TransCanada Trail, but found that it was unrideable, and after a few hundred metres I turned back to the road. The roads are generally fairly quiet and good for cycling so this was no problem. I had both the sun and the wind at my back and was bowling along at a good pace. By noon I had already done 55 km. The road was fairly open so there were some great views all along the coast.

I left the route 19 at Port Hood and went to the Manitou restaurant for lunch of BLT sandwich and salad. There I met someone who had stayed at the same campsite last night and he was impressed that it had taken them the same amount of time to drive there as it had for me to cycle. Of course, I'd had an early start and the wind at my back, and they'd probably had a mornings sightseeing.

From Port Hood I took the unpaved road to West Mabou which was a scenic but hilly route. I rejoined the route 19 and this too was much hillier all the way from Mabou to Inverness. It was hot work. I was still feeling strong, but I was feeling the effects of the sun when I stopped at the Coal Miners Cafe in Inverness. I found out that there was a campsite just along the road, so I decided to call it a day, a celebrated with a Sleeman's Honey Brown lager to chase down the tea. That beer did more to cool me down than half an hour in the shade had. At the campsite I found a shady spot for the tent too, and then went down to explore the beach. It's amazing how much fun you can have with one beach and one camera. (No naturist jokes please)

After all the sun I'd had, I didn't want a hot shower, but something more than cold would have been nice - and at $28.18 I would expect it! Later on I went back into Inverness to the Coal Miners Cafe (more a pub/eatery) and had the most expensive thing on the menu - Seafood platter for $14.95

Distance: 109.6 km
Cycling time: 5:47
Total distance: 1992.4 km

Saturday, 17 June 2006

Antigonish to Havre Boucher (Nova Scotia)

The day dawned cloudless and sunny so I was up bright and early in search of breakfast - at the appropriately named Sunshine on Main. I'm sitting here now over my second pot of tea waiting for places to open. the plan is to have a shorter cycling day today as the next campsite is about 50 km away, but the next one after that is another 70-80 km, which is more than I've done in one day so far and too far on a hot sunny day. So, internet and other things around town first and then hopefully a leisurely ride this afternoon...

I spent some time in an internet cafe uploading photos, but it was too expensive for me to stay for too long typing at the speed I do, so I did some shopping until the library opened at 10 am, when I could spend an hour laboriously updating my blog - this damned blog, it's taking over my life!

I went to the relaxed Tall and Small Cafe for a last English Breakfast tea and a bun before going back to the campsite to pack up the tent and bike. I think people must become conditioned to living a drive-thru lifestyle; when leaving the campsite you're supposed to post your site pass into a little box on the wall. I saw someone drive up to the box, and not being able to reach, pull forwards and reverse 2 or 3 times until they were close enough to reach. (Rather than just get out and walk the 2 yards...)

By the time I left Antigonish it was about 1 pm and still a beautiful day with just enough breeze to keep from getting too hot. Unfortunately as far as the route was concerned I had no choice but to use the 104 highway. Some of the time there is a broad shoulder, but going over bridges and uphill the shoulder disappears completely. (Just when you need it!) This wasn't really a problem as every car and lorry gave me a wide berth. Ironically some of the best views of the day were from the highway as it is not lined closely with trees as many smaller roads are. After about 8 km I turned off the highway to detour on quieter roads through the Acadian region of Pomquet. I was then back onto highway 104 for a couple more kilometres until I could turn off onto route 4.

At one point I noticed that the temperature hit 34 C, so when I got to Monastery I stopped at a little store for an ice cream. Oh my God - this must have been the world's biggest ice cream, except it can't have been as I only ordered a meduium and not a large. Big Mama's Death By Chocolate must have had at least 12 scoops of ice cream piled up onto a little cone ("Everything's big at Big Mamas" - and only $2!) It was impossible to eat it faster than it was melting in the heat. I must have looked like a little kid with chocolate ice cream all over my hands and face. I needed a wash afterwards. I don't think I could have lifted a large ice cream!

From Monastery I found that I had less than 10 km to go to the Hyclass Ocean campground at Harve Boucher. It's in a really beautiful spot right down by the water. I found the one spot with a bit of shade to pitch the tent and spread out any last remaining damp things to dry in the sun and breeze while I went down to the beach area to relax and enjoy the sun. Mannfred gave me a bargain price of $10.

Distance: 51.2 km
Cycling time: 2:53
Total distance: 1882.8 km

Friday, 16 June 2006

Merigomish to Antigonish (Nova Scotia)

I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, then the wind and rain kept me awake for a couple more. The storm was still raging at 4 am, but by 6 am it seemed to me that the rain had eased a little. At 8 am all was suddenly calm and quiet, just when I had been fearing having to spend the whole day in the tent. In my rush to get the tent pitched last night, I'd forgotten to get change for the tumble-drier, and as there was no-one at the office in the morning, I put my wet clothes back on (yuk) knowing that they'd soon warm up and start drying out.

The mosquitoes here were numerous swarming and aggressive, which is always unpleasant when you're not used to it and is probably still unpleasant even when you are. Is there any sound more annoying than a mosquito buzzing right next to your ear? Many died. Luckily I had already invested in a small bottle of OFF (25% DEET) as my natural repellant (Cedar, Mint & Citronella oils) didn't seem to work too well. The DEET does seem to work better, though I'm always a bit slow to use it.

I didn't set off until about 10 am and by then the sun was shining through the high cloud. Apart from the LBR gas/store/restaurant, the only other place I saw serving food or refreshments was at Lismore only 7 km further along the road. This area has close ties with Scotland as can be seen in the place names - Arisaig, Knoydart, Clydesdale, etc. There was even a memorial to the battle of Culloden. The MacDonald clan is much in evidence. (as a result of the Highland Clearances of the 1770's) Indeed in New Glasgow they ran many businesses from MacDonald babywear to MacDonald Funeral Home - Cradle to Grave.

The road was fairly flat, with long easy gradients and I mad good time in the morning with my average speed up at 21 km/h as I passed through the charmingly named Malignant Cove. I had the road entirely to myself, with the breeze coming across me from the north. I was looking forward to rounding Cape George and turning south to have the wind behind me. I stopped at the Cape George Lighthouse for a sunny picnic lunch with an awesome view, and from the lighthouse there was a steep downhill to Ballantynes Cove - but the wind was so strong and into my face that it was almost blowing me to a standstill. How can that be? How can it blow from the north, and round the corner be coing from the south. It's not right!

The eastern shoreline of the Antigonish peninsular was much hiller that the west side, and the day was getting steadily hotter and hotter. I had finished my water and stopped at a convenient house by the road for a refill. they gave me chilled water straight from the fridge; how tempting it was to chug it all down in one go.

After one last long climb I rolled down into Antigonish (The 't' seems to be silent) with suddenly lots of traffic. I made my obligatory visit to the Visitor Information Centre and then for a very refreshing pot of English Breakfast tea at the Tall and Small Cafe. Supposedly 'Antigonish' is Mi'kmaq for: "the place where the branches are torn off the trees by bears gathering beechnuts" - which seems like quite a lot to say in 4 syllables. Mi'kmaqi is obviously a very terse language.

Whiddens Campgound is conveniently right in the middle of town in a pleasant location next to Briers Brook. "We have a special rate for people like you" she said. I assume she meant cyclists and not crazy people, although that's probably the same thing. ($11.83. $13.60 inc. tax Showers 25c/5 mins)

In the evening I ended up having a pizza. Not what I intended, but I hate it when restaurants don't display their menu outside... BTW: Garrison's Nut Brown ale is very nice.

Distance: 87.1 km
Cycling time: 4:58
Total distance: 1831.6 km

Thursday, 15 June 2006

Pictou to Merigomish (Nova Scotia)

The campground had a slow PC with internet access, and someone had pulled up the weather forecast; rain all day today (apparently the tail end of hurricane Alberto) but better from tomorrow. (How many times have I heard that!)

The campground is just outside Pictou, so I cycled through town to the Visitor Information Centre and then back into town to find some breakfast. While I was eating I could see the rain had already arrived, and it wasn't long before it was raining heavily. The library didn't open until noon, so I set off out of town and stopped at the supermarket to stock up on food and hope that the rain would stop.

It didn't.

The rooute out of Pictou took me onto the main 106 highway and a long causeway across the bay. I'm sure that on a nice day there are some fine views from here. Once across the bay I took the first exit off the highway anto the road through Abercrombie to New glasgow - where I encountered my first traffic jam. I dodged past the queues into the centre of town in search of a quiet little cafe - somewhere where I wouldn't be too embarrassed to sit and drip. Cafe Italia looked promising - dark and closed except for the OPEN sign in the window. Inside was a different story, every seat was taken except for one barstool by the window, so I dripped my way to the counter to order my iced cinnamon roll and vanilla latte. When I was in New England they had a saying: "You don't like the weather? Wait 5 minutes it'll change!" Here, either they're more patient or the weather is more persistent as they say "Wait half an hour, it'll change!" And it's true. When I came out half an hour later, sure enough, it was raining worse...

I had my directions to the nearby library where I sheltered for an hour doing blog and checking on Englands lame progress to half time with Trinidad and Tobago (0-0) I set off again into the rain and soon got lost in New Glasgows one-way system. Someone driving past saw me puzzling over my sodden street map and stopped to help. He happened to be going in the same direction that I wanted and so drove slowly enough to lead me to Merigomish Road. After the customary chat I was on my way, on the right road, in the rain. After about 10 km I again had to use one of the main highways for a short section between junctions 27A and 27 of the 104. There was lots of spray from the passing cars and lorries, but luckily at the times when I had to cross the road to enter and leave, it was quiet.

I now only had 16 km to go to my chosen destination for the day - the Cranberry Campground, but it soon turned into a real ordeal. Earlier in the day there had been no wind and the rain was falling calmly straight down, but now the wind was throwing the rain into my face from the north-east. The last 10 km seemed to go by very slowly - which I guess it did.

Just before I got to the campground I saw a sign for the LBR gas/store/restaurant which turned out to be just a couple of hundred metres past the campground turn. I went to the LBR first in the hope of some hot tea and some food. The restaurant was closed (they're going to replace it with a liquor store which makes more money!) but the lady kindly offered to open it up and cook me something, which she did while I had some tea. I think she felt sorry for me being wet through. Battered haddock and fries; normally I wouldn't touch tomato ketchup with a barge-pole, but I think if you'd written 'calorie' on a piece of paper I'd have eaten that too. She also gave me a couple of big chocolate-chip cookies for free, for dessert. So kind once again.

I found the most sheltered spot I could find at the campsite, pitched the tent, crawled inside and stayed there. $18 - showers free, although I didn't venture out for a shower as I figured I'd already had a 3 hour shower today - the last hour of which was a power-shower.

Distance: 57.9 km
Cycling time: 3:40
Total distance: 1744.5 km

Wednesday, 14 June 2006

Truro to Pictou (Nova Scotia)

There were no kitchen facilities at the Agricultural College so I was up at 7:30 and out in search of breakfast. You can't get the full English here, with all those nice extras such as tomato, mushrooms etc. (My mouth is watering just at the thought) It tentds to be a simple egg(s), meat (sausage, bacon or ham) with lots of 'homefries' (cubes of potato, fried) and toast (white or wheat)

There was some talk of election results in the cafe, but no-one seemed too excited. The thing I did notice today - not one single sign for any candidate, anywhere. They've all disappeared overnight. Before today, it seemed as though every house and garden had at least one and sometimes more. Not that the gardens are now bare by any means. They're very fond of their garden ornaments are the Canadians, or at least the Nova Scotians, which are the only flavour of Canadian I've really come across - although come to think of it, most of the ones I've met have been expats from other parts of Canada. There are areas where several generations of the same family have lived in the same area for many years as the surnames on the mail-boxes often appear in little clusters. In Cape Blomidon I saw one farm 'Grain Fed Chicken - J. Fuller' and then a little way up the road, an exact mirror-image farm on the other side of the road; 'Grain Fed Chicken - D. Fuller' Most of the name clusters seem to be in fishing and farming areas where people are perhaps more tied in to one way of life.

Anyway, back to the garden ornaments. There's a lot of lighthouses, and statuettes, and silhouettes, and the like. They have some wacky stuff too, painted bicycles and abstract sculptures, and twee stuff; fairies and things. The thing that annoys me, is when they have animals that are really life-like; Is that a deer? No. It doesn't f*****g move! Wouldn't that irritate the hell out of you? Move damn you. Please, paint a red nose on it so I know it's a fake.

I'd seen a sign at the Agricultural college in Truro for it's rock garden, so I went there after breakfast for a quick look around. It was really well looked after (in fact a lot of volunteers were there already there weeding and planting) and there was lots in bloom. It's odd that the Visitor Information Centre made no mention of it - like the VIC in Wolfville which made no reference to the Botanical Gardens.

There was no-one to hand my keys in to when I left, so I posted them through the door and set off out of town on the 311. I had the option later of following an unpaved road across country, but the 311 was so quiet and quite scenic so I decided to stay on that. According to one map, there was a place called Summit en route, so I knew that I would be climbing up for the first 20 km or so. The climb was quite gradual so it was fairly easy going and the weather was perfect for cycling; some nice warm sun and a cool breeze. Again there wasn't much service-wise - again I found no cafes or restaurants all day long. As the 311 climbed up though the pleasantly wooded hills to Earlstown, there was a gas station cum store where I stopped to buy a cold drink.

From Earlstown I dropped down onto the 326 road and followed it's undulating path north to the coast at Brule. Here, on route 6, I was looking out into Tatamagouche Bay on the Northumberland Strait. I had covered a good distance already so I stopped at a picnic spot in a Provincial Park. I walked the boardwalks down to the beach and took off my sandals to walk bare-foot in the soft warm sand. Bliss.

A few km from the park I came into River John where I was hoping to find a cafe but only found the library. There was a campsite near to here at Seafoam, but it seemed too early in the day to stop even though the next campsite was quite a bit further on - about 30 or 40 km. I pressed on along route 6 stopping only for the occasional energy boosting snack. I was feeling weary as I approached Pictou (Pron. Pic-toe) and turned off route 6 to follow the road through Caribou and the Prince Edward Island (PEI) ferry terminal and finally arrived at the Harbour Light Campground. The owner disappeared into the office as I rode up and re-appeared ice-cream in hand. What a welcome. An ice-cream has never been so appreciated. Later, when I went to pay for my stay, ($15, showers free) I thought I'd try to repay his generosity by buying a can of drink, but he refused any payment for that too.

My final piece of luck for the day was to meet Ray Hobbs, a cyclist from Calgary, who had just come from the way I'm headed, and so he had some great hints and tips to pass on to me.

Today was a long day in the saddle and at some point I passed the 1000 miles mark for this trip.

Distance: 107.8 km
Cycling time: 5:37
Total distance: 1676.6 km

Tuesday, 13 June 2006

Maitland to Truro (Nova Scotia)

Is there ever a night when it doesn't rain here? At least it was a nice morning. The sun had a bit of a lie-in itself, not appearing over the low cloud on the horizon until about 7:30. I did some repair work to the bike - I had another broken strut on the rear pannier, and spent longer than usual packing up as I'd had everything out of the panniers to check that they were dry, so it was a good opportunity to re-organise.

I was on the road back to Maitland by 8:30, the cafe was still closed, so I turned onto the 215 and headed to South Maitland. I stopped at the gas station/store there; the cafe wasn't officially open, but the lady wasn't very busy so she kindly offered to make me some toast and a pot of tea, and even brough me a newspaper to read. (It's election day here in Nova Scotia) I could catch up with some World Cup results and reports. The bad news was the weather forecast once again; cloudy with showers in the morning, thundershowers in the afternoon. Surely not. It had clouded over but was still warm and pleasant. (And hurricane Alberto threatening Florida - hope Tom and Gail will be okay)

From South Maitland I crossed the Shubenacadie River (You can raft the tidal bore here, but the times didn't suit my travel plans) and followed the 289 to Brookfield where I stopped for an ice cream and a tea. It was definitely feeling warm and muggy - good for breeding thunderstorms? From Brookfield I was on route 2 which was relatively flat and so my average speed was much higher than it has been in recent days - up at about 19 km/h. The road became increasingly busy as I cycled into Truro (I still find it odd that so many places have the same names as places back in the UK) but it took me straight to the 'Welcome Centre' in search of local maps and information. (and the internet)

It was still a lovely warm sunny day when I came out. Surely the forecast was wrong. I went to the funky Fair Trade Country Cafe for an excellent chili soup with salad; France v. Switzerland was on the TV - a turgid 0-0 draw - and before I'd finished eating, it was bucketing down with rain.

It continued to rain.

And rain.

And thunder.

So I stayed in the cafe and had a Vanilla Latte and watched the end of the football. It was along cycle to the next campsite on my route and the thunder seemed to confirm that the weather had set in for the afternoon, so during a brief break in the rain I cycled out to the Agricultural College which lets out student rooms in the 'summer' and was the cheapest accomodation option in town. $30 ($34.50 inc. tax) A basic room with bed but fine for my needs. I dumped my luggage in the room and cycled back into town through the precursor to the next downpour. A rainy afternoon seemed the perfect excuse to catch up with typing in my journal in the library.

I came out to find that I'd forgotten to cover up my saddle, so it had soaked up lots of rainwater. I hate that - it's like sitting on a wet sponge. And I have a cheap motel shower-cap especially for the job too.

I treated myself to another Vanilla Latte while I made the big decision of the day; where to go and eat. In the end I opted for The Engine Room - a pub/eatery - for a good rare steak washed down with a couple of Rickard Reds. It's funny what a place will lay claim to; Did you know (seems unlikely) that the worlds first knitted rib underwear was made in Truro in 1877. And I didn't even know you could knit with ribs.

Distance: 50.4 km
Cycling time: 2:51
Total distance: 1568.8 km

Monday, 12 June 2006

Kempt Shore to Maitland

I was having a great sexy dream, when blow me (no pun intended) if my alarm didn't go off and spoil it. I'm going to turn my alarm off and just wake up whenever.

It had rained a lot during the night again and was cool and grey in the morning, so I didn't feel inclined to make an early start. At 8 am however the sun suddenly came out and within minutes it seemed, the sky was clear and blue. I packed up some things and let the tent dry out a bit in the sun, but by the time I set off at 9 am it had clouded over again. I was following the 215 (The scenic Glooscap Trail) east alongside the top end of the Bay of Fundy. This area is pretty much a rural farming region and there isn't much in the way of services along the way - I passed one pub/eatery (closed) and one cafe (closed) all day.

In the morning there there were some fine views of the Minas Basin as I cycled along and I stopped at the Dragonfly grocery store in Pembroke. They didn't have tea, but they did have a little urn of [good, hot] free coffee. ("Help yourself to refills") I had a good chat with the owners originally from Ontario ("Oh, yah") who had some good tales. they'd recently been flounder fishing - basically you sit in your boat, on the mud, lookin' foolish, waiting for the tide to come in (Like Noah waitin' for the flood)

I think I might have to move to Canada; people here are so friendly. I was stopped by the side of the road - trying to locate a mystery soound from the bike - when a passing garbage truck stopped and the young driver came over for a chat. It turned out he was a keen cyclist and was keen to know what I was up, and hoping to do something similar in the future.

A few kilometres further on I passed the closed eatery in Walton, but detoured to the Walton lighthouse. It has some interesting photos of Walton Harbour where some quite big ships would come into port on a high tide, and moor up at the wharf. As the tide went out the ship would settle down onto wooden blocks and be grounded. Once loaded up with the locally quarried minerals, they would wait for high tide to leave. Inevitably there have been a few accidents! Just as I was preparing to leave, the Dutch couple from the B&B in Wolfville arrived; another good excuse for a natter.

Blue sky and sun were appearing more and more, and continued to improve all afternoon. The road was quite rough and broken up in places, and though still hilly it was not as steep and tiring, or at least it seemed that way to me. Maybe the effect of a bit of sun! I detoured briefly from the 215 to follow the coast road through Burntcoat (or burncoat - I notice that place names vary a lot in their spelling) and then stopped at the convenience store in Noel to buy some drink and chocolate. I asked how far it was to Maitland. "Oh, about 20 minutes by car." It's not the first time I've had that sort of answer. People here seem to judge distance by travelling time rather than any unit of distance, and if you do get an answer it might be in either miles or kilometres (either of which is fine by me)

In Lower Selma I stopped at a little museum housed in an old church and spent a while browsing around the old artefacts and photos. Not much was open in Maitland when I arrived; the cafe was closed, as was the Visitor Information Centre. Luckily the Millpond Campground, 3 km up a side road was open. ($20, showers free) I put up the tent, and spread out the remaining wet things I had in the sun. If the ground wasn't so wet and the mosquitoes and black-flies so annoying, I might have spread myself out in the sun too. I'm beginning to get that really amusing cyclists tan; nut-brown arms, and legs, with a pasty white body. I also have funny sandal-tanned feet and half a brown face.

Distance: 77.2 km
Cycling time: 4:25
Total distance: 1518.4 km

Sunday, 11 June 2006

Wolfville to Kempt Shore

Ironically, I didn't sleep too well in the B&B; maybe the bed was just too comfy, or maybe I was missing the sound of the rain. Breakfast was nominally at 8:30, when we got to meet the only other guests, a Dutch couple over on holiday. Brian, ever the host introduced us all, and after all the chatter, breakfast was running late. I don't think I've ever had a breakfast that has had such a long-winded presentation. (Must have been tedious for Tom and Gail to sit through it all again) Not only a full explanation of the courses; fresh fruit salad (not tinned!) followed by cereal and then French toast with real (expensive) maple syrup, and then optionally toast with a selection of preserves - but a description almost down to the ingredients and method of manufacture. 4-star service at a 2-star price. [Brian - lighten up!] It wasn't until 10.20 that we managed to escape Brian's clutches and his jokes about helping with the washing-up. It had all taken so long that I was almost hungry again already.

It was a little sad saying goodbye to Tom and Gail, it's been fun bumping into them. (I did see their car later that morning at a winery they were touring, so I left a note on their windshield wishing them bon voyage. They thought that I needed a nickname and were calling me "Wheels", but I decided that it didn't sound right with 'Melville' and that I would need to change my surname to something like McManus. "Wheels McManus" sounds good.)

The day was pretty cool again after yesterdays nice balmy temperatures. From Wolfville I cycled 6 km to the historic site of Grand Pre. (Big field) where they have an exhibition of Acadian life and how the French speaking Acadians reclaimed land from the sea with dyke building, creating a fertile agricultural area called the Grand Pre. The Mi'kmaq Indians were hunter gatherers and not in competition with the Acadian settlers. There was also a short 20 minute film about how beastly the British and New Englanders were to them, ending up with the enforced deportation over 8 years of about 10,000 people around the 1750's.

From Grand Pre I cycled out to the Gaspereau River Road to avoid route 1, and I cycled on through Avonport to Hantsport where I stopped for a lunch of pan-fried haddock. As I had had a late start to the day, because of the extended breakfast, and because I'd had a few short cycling days, I felt that I needed to put some distance under my wheels. With the cool cloudy conditions this wasn't too difficult although the roads continued to be quite hilly and tiring. By the end of the day I was probably only about 15 km from where I started in Wolfville, but I had to cycle about 70 km to get there circling around the Avon river as it empties into the Minas Basin. You can tell that the rivers around this area are all tidal by the tell-tale steep muddy banks, bare of any vegetation. With the tidal range being so great here, tidal bores are commonplace in several rivers.

I dodged the rain for most of the day, but I did get one 20 minute drenching towards the end of the day - but this turned oout to be fortuitous. I stopped at the Avon Emporium - a hardware/grocery store/cafe/post office - to dry off and have a cup of tea. The owner phoned ahead to the campsite for me. They had to open up especially for me, and turn on the hot water as I was once again the only person there and only their second customer of the year. ($15, showers free) With all the recent rain, it wasn't a case of find a dry spot so much as find the least wet!


Distance: 69.5 km
Cycling time: 3:52
Total distance: 1441.2 km

Saturday, 10 June 2006

Blomidon Provincial Park to Wolfville

I awoke at 6 am bright and eager but one look outside the tent scuppered any thoughts of a scenic hike. It had rained a lot during the night and now I was enveloped in a fog of low cloud. Payback time for yesterdays sunshine. I went back to sleep for a while but things got no better, so eventually I decided to do a hike anyway and hope that the weather would improve. I spent a couple of hours hiking the Woodland, Interpretive and Jodrey trails. The Interpretive trail had some interesting informations panels (but boring as photos!) but there were no views to see from any of the lookout points on the Jodrey trail.

The mist seemed to be clearing as I got back to the campsite but just as I had packed up everything except the tent, the rain arrived. And then the thunder. (Why does the thunder here rumble on for so much longer than at home? There must be a scientific explanation.) In a break in the rain I started to pack up the tent, but as no sooner had I got the flysheet off than it poured with rain again and the inner got soaked. I think that God has a grudge against me for all the bad things I've said about him.

From the park it was about a 20 km ride back to Canning where I took shelter from the rain in the Fireside Cafe again. Being a Saturday it was bursting at the seams. Having fortified myself with some heavy German Chocolate cake and some tea I set off again. This time the heavens really opened and I was soon wet through. Not a nook or cranny was dry. At least it wasn't cold so I was happy in shorts and sandals. It was even good fun in a masochistic sort of way; a car coming the other way splashed me with a huge puddle. Normally you'd be pretty annoyed, but now it was like "Ha, do your worst, I'm wet already!"

From Canning to Wolfville was about 16 km - all in the rain. When I arrived I was lucky enough to find 'Valley Stove and Cycle' on Main Street who made a quick job of repairing my broken spoke for a bargain $12.08 - while I dripped puddles of water onto their floor. After that I went to the Visitor Information Centre to find out what my local accomodation options were. The nearest campsite was only 10 km away, which was an easy trip, and the only other option was a B&B. The cheapest in town, by a country mile was the Garden House, which turned out to be very pleasant, and the host Brian, very informative and helpful. As luck would have it, this was also exactly where my friends Tom and Gail were staying, and we arranged to go out later in the evening.

Having dumped all my wet dripping gear in the garage and changed into some dry clothes, I then went out for a busy afternoon; I went first to the library for internet. When the library closed at 5pm, so the sun came out, so I dashed up to the Botanical Gardens in the campus of Acadia University for a whistlestop tour. Then I dashed back to the B&B to collect all of my clothes for an early evening trip to the laundry before meeting up with Tom and Gail back at the B&B.

We went out to the Library Pub and ordered some food, although we put our order on hold as Tom was determined to go and see the Chimney Swifts come home to roost. In a chimney. I wasn't convinced that they really existed, but I kid you not. They do. Believe it or not. In the gathering twilight the swifts swopped and fluttered, in groups or just 2's and 3's. They would disappear from view for a while and then come back, although you could always hear their chattering call. We watched them for about half an hour as they performed their nightly aerobatics. Suddenly at 10 past 9, and in less than half a minute, the flock made 3 passes during which in groups they all plunged from view into the chimney no more than 2 ft across and disappeared from view. You wouldn't believe it unless you'd seen it. So, they do exist. Chimney Swifts. Not like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus (Sorry if this last bit is news to you)

It was a thoroughly pleasant evening, Tom and Gail were great relaxed company.

Distance: 36 km
Cycling time: 2:30
Total distance: 1371.7 km

Friday, 09 June 2006

The Lookoff to Cape Blomidon Provincial Park (Nova Scotia)

I ended up spending the night in the common room. I had the TV on, a good fire going in the stove and a pot on top heating up water for tea when Vince the campsite owner (originally from Canvey Island, Essex, who came to Canada 27 years ago) came in and said I was welcome to sleep on one of the sofas rather than in the tent in the rain. I was quite happy to sleep in the tent but it made a pleasant change to have somewhere to relax. He even went out into the rain to fetch me in a fresh barrow full of wood for the stove. Channel-hopping was easy with only 2 channels to choose from. (CSI and 3 episodes of My Name Is Earl) I did learn that this is the warmest spring on record in Nova Scotia, but that the current temperatures are below average. :-(

The World Cup makes the news here too. Football is the second most popular participation sport after ice-hockey.

The view from the Look-Off was appearing and disappearing from view as the mist/cloud blew through the campsite. I was packed and ready to go when Vince appeared, and we spent quite some time chatting, so it wasn't until 10 am that I finally put bum to saddle. From the Look-Off to Scots Bay was about 10 km, mostly downhill to nearly sea-level so it didn't take very long. I stopped off for a cup of tea at the Sandollar Cafe. From there I cycled along to the very end of the road, pulled on my walking boots, packed my rucksack, and left the bike for safe-keeping at the closest house, before setting off on the Cape Split Trail. The trail is about 7 km long and rises gradually through the forest to about 130m and then drops slowly to about 80m high at the end. There's not much to see along the way, and the path was very wet and muddy, but there were some fine views at the end of the cape. The tide was going out and I could see and hear the eddy's in the water as it swept past the end of the headland. I sat and watched the seagulls while I had a picnic lunch, before embarking on the return trip, with only my footprints for company.

Today is a positively balmy 19 C as the wind has shifted around to the south (so again I was cycling into a headwind as I headed back from the cape. I stopped once again at the Sandollar Cafe for a fish and chip supper. Considering the forecast I've been lucky with the weather - I'm happy for it to rain at night if it's dry during the day. While I was eating, miraculuously the sun came out. I was eager to get outside into the sunshine so I hardly let my food go down before I was back outside on the bike. I figured I could take it easy, but I really had no choice, uphill into the wind. I was singing my way uphill to take my mind off the toil, when I startled a woman doing her gardening; I hadn't seen her behind a bush as I cycled up the hill. I said an embarrassed sheepish hello, and she said that she though it was her horse that was singing. Good to know that I sing like a horse!

I'd just set off again when a car coming the other way slowed down and stopped. It was Gail, the lady from Florida who I'd met in Annapolis Royal on Monday. We had a chat by the side of the road about what we'd been doing since Monday; she'd just been hiking in Blomidon Park where I was heading. I promised to look them up in Wolfville where she and Tom were staying if I got the chance.

Soon after we parted ways I turned off the 358 onto Stewart Mountain Road. This was an unpaved gravel road that luckily for me was all downhill in the direction I was going. Fun though it was to hurtle down it's rough surface when I got back onto the paved Pereau Road I soon noticed that my rear wheel was slightly buckled due to a broken spoke. I only had a few km left to do to Blomidon Park where I was planning to camp. The road up to the campsite was incredibly steep - or it seemed so to me anyway - and for the first time I can remember I had to get off the bike and push. I just had no energy in my legs - or the mental strength to keep cycling. Once past the worst, I cycled the rest of the way up to the park office but had to rest before I could register.

The broken spoke is on the freewheel/cassette side of the rear wheel which I don't have the tools for so I will need to get to a bike shop to get it repaired. I pitched the tent in a nice open grassy area to make the most of the setting sun and hopefully the morning sunshine too. It was a beautiful evening as the sun set to the west so the moon was rising to the east.

Distance: 39.4 km
Cycling time: 2:38
Total distance: 1335.7 km

Thursday, 08 June 2006

Aylesford to The Lookoff (Nova Scotia)

It got quite blustery in the evening, and then the rain arrived. It rained quite a lot in the night, and I remember lying awake at about 3 am listening to the rain, but I slept quite well. It felt cold in the morning and I was in no hurry to get going. I was craving some salt, so I went to the camp office to buy some crisps (chips) where they had some [free] coffee on the go. Quite a few people seemed concerned to know if I'd slept okay in the tent with all the rain. By 9am the day had warmed up enough (12 C) for me to contemplate moving on. Although damp and grey it was staying dry, so by just before 10 am I was on my way.

I cycled along route 1 the 10 km to Berwick where I stopped at the Visitor Information Centre - it's handy to get a little local area map if you can. They cheered me up with the news that it was forecast to rain for at least the next week...! Oh good! I mentioned that I was thinking of going up to Dape Blomidon, and one of the girls said that it was lovely but that the last time she was there she had a bad experience. Someone was up there walking their dog and threw a stick for it to fetch. The stick went over the cliff. And so did the dog... For a moment I thought 'Oh, how awful' but then unbidden, an image popped into my head of the dog doing a cartoon-style wide-eyed 'Uh-oh' look and struggled not to laugh. (Is it just me? Of course it wouldn't be funny to actually see it happen, but it loses something in the telling.)

Berwick Library is closed on Thursdays, so I went to a little cafe to write some diary and have a pot of tea. From Berwick (Pron. Burwick, not Berrick as we would say) to Kentville was about 20 km and I went the whole way along the old rail trail. There's not much to see along the way as the route is flanked with trees, but most of the time I had to concentrate on the way ahead to pick a path through the puddles and gravel. Both hands firmly on the handlebar. At least the trees afforded some protection from the wind coming resolutely from the cold north east. I found that I had to share the trail with quad-bikes, motorbikes and the occasional lorry! He did pull over to let me past.

The Annapolis valley is a rich agricultural area with lots of farms and orchards. I've noticed that there is a small bird here that looks a bit like a blackbird but has red and gold epaulettes that flash as it flies - sort of like a blackbird that got a promotion.

In Kentville I had a tour of the one-way system trying to find the Visitor Information Centre. I asked them if there was much worth seeing/doing in town while I was here. "No" - at least they were honest. By the time I came out it was raining so it was a good excuse to do some internet at the library. (Photo for Neale) The rain had stopped by the time I came out an hour later (Is it too late to learn to touch-type?) but it was still pretty cool; my cycle-computer never showed above 14 C all day. I left Kentville heading north on the 341 and then the 358 towards Cape Blomidon. I stopped in Canning at the Firesdie Cafe and thought I was ordering a whole pizza, but only 1/4 turned up. Probably for the better. Little and often. Tasty too.

From Canning I didn't have far to go to the Look-Off campsite, but as the name suggests it's at a high location with views of the surrounding area. There were some hard climbs in those last 4 km north on the 358, up to about 180m. The campsite was at the same level as the cloud-base, but soon after arriving, the cloud had dropped down and so was the rain. I was the only person at the campsite. ($27.60, showers free) On the plus side though there was a big 'common room' with comfy chairs a wood burning stove and TV (2 channels)

Distance: 54.5 km
Cycling time: 3:45
Total distance: 1296.3 km

Wednesday, 07 June 2006

Delaps Cove to Klahanie Kamping, Aylesford (Nova Scotia)

Another cool grey morning. At least it was dry, and the mist had blown away so at least I could see the sea as I had the short steep climb up from the campsite past the little harbour at Delpas Cove. I then had the 11 km back along the hilly coast road to Parkers Cove. The tide was now in so I stopped to take some more photos from the same places where I had taken yesterdays low tide pictures. From Parkers Cove I carried on along the coast road, through Youngs Cove and Phinney Cove from where the views were a bit more scenic. For the first time since arriving in Canada I saw some glimpses of blue sky, and the sun made some feeble attempts to shine.

The air temperature was noticeably warmer higher up as I sweated uphill and then was chilly again as I rolled back down closer to sea level. In Hampton I stopped at the most unlikely internet 'cafe' I've ever seen. I a small barn in a cottage garden where there were half-a-dozen PC's running Windows 98 (slowly) and with an old lady in charge, talking of land-lines and satellite and the grant to get high-speed internet installed. She must have been in her 60's or 70's as she told me, with a twinkle in her eye and a knowing smile, that she had spent 3 years in London back in the [swinging] 60's "before there were any problems..." Whatever could she mean?

From Hampton I headed back inland - over the 'mountains' and down into the Annapolis Valley. The climb was higher than yesterdays on the Parker mountain Road, but easier as it rose in stages, staircase like to 250m. It was warmer on the Annapolis Valley side of the hills, and there were some fine views across the valley as I hurtled down the road. I swear I could smell the heat of the disc-brakes as I limited my descent to a safe speed.

I had hoped to stop in Bridgetown, but I didn't find anywhere too appealing so I turned left onto route 1 and headed east. Along the way I did stop for a 'death-by-chocolate' ice cream cone. (Shoulda taken a picture!) It was big, but I needed the energy. Paradise. That was the next village, not the ice cream. Not many people live in Paradise, but the cemetary looked full. I didn't spend long in Paradise. The next little town, Lawrencetown, had a nice little family restaurant, so I stopped there for their special of the day, a creamy spaghetti carbonara. A welcome boost to both energy and morale. As I left Lawrencetown, I spotted a sign for an abandoned railway line (Use at your own risk!) which I guessed followed the same direction as the road and the river, so I took a chance and rode along it. One thing you can usually guarantee with ex-railway lines is there are no steep hills, no sharp turns and no cars. (Well, okay, 3 things) Everything else is pot luck. There were some patches of loose gravel and some spectacularly deep puddles, but otherwise it was okay. After about 5km there was a sign saying trail closed due to an unsafe bridge, and discretion being the better part of valour, I switched back to route 1.

At Middleton I asked at the Visitor Information Centre, and they seemed to think that the rail trail from there would be okay to use so I decided to rejoin it. There was a little railway museum in an old station building and I stopped for a browse, although this was made a little uncomfortable by having 2 care-in-the-community type assitants shadowing me around. Their brief was probably to make sure I didn't nick any of the exhibits rather than provide any information. "When did the railway close down here?" "I don't know, I didn't live here then." Right. Never mind.

The 10 km from Middleton to Kingston on the rail trail was hard going as the surface was just too soft and loose for a heavily laden bike - it did make for a few hairy moments as the front or back wheel took a slide. From Kingston I switched back to the road for the last 10 km to Aylesford where it was just starting to spit with rain as I arrived at Klahanie Kamping. ($22.77 inc. tax, showers free)

Distance: 87.0 km
Cycling time: 5:48
Total distance: 1241.8 km

Tuesday, 06 June 2006

Granville Ferry to Delaps Cove (Nova Scotia)

The new day arrived as cold, damp and grey as the last - the surrounding hills and water shrouded in mist. Whatever happened to the sun that was forecast? The latest forecast I've seen is for more of the same, and rain on Thursday. I might have to make that a laundry day.

I cycled back the 2.5 km into Annapolis Royal and went to the Fort Anne Cafe for breakfast while I decided what the plan was for the day. In the end I decided to cycle along to the Port Royal Habitation - a reconstruction of the first settlement established by the French in 1604, as a trading place with the local Mi'kmaq indians; trading furs for iron tools etc. Inevitably it was looted and burned by the British only a few years later. The reconstruction itself is now almost an antique having been built in 1939-40. It's quite an interesting site, especially imagining how life must have been like back then, and seeing the tools such as the wood-turning lathe; a simple functional design. The guides were in period costume and eager to offer information; presumably because there were more guides than there were visitors when I was there.

The day was still grey but had warmed up to 20 C when I cycled back to teh campsite just before noon. I packed up the tent and headed off. From Granville Ferry I took the Parker Mountain Road and encountered my first long hard climb of this trip. I figure it was an altitude gain of only 140m over a couple of kilometers, but there was a long bottom-gear section that was hard work. There were no sections of slightly flatter ground where I could 'rest' and cycle with less effort. I stopped at the top for a rest, then put on another layer for the chilly descent to Parkers Cove on the Fundy coast. It was distinctly chillier on the Fundy Bay side of the hill too - about 5 C cooler in the mist.

Fundy Bay has the worlds largest tidal range (about 17 metres or 56 feet) in places, and I stopped to take some pictures of Parkers Cove at a lowish tide. Hopefully when I come back this way tomorrow I can get some at high tide. From Parkers Cove, I followed the hilly coast road through Hillsburn and Litchfield to the campsite at Delaps Cove. I pitched the tent in their wildeness area by a little creek and cycled off to visit 2 local nature trails; the Bohaker trail and the Charles Trail. The track that lead to the trail was very rough and wet (good fun on a mountain bike) and had lots of large yellow butterflies sunning themselves in groups on the track or fluttering dances of lines and spirals in the air. The sun was occasionally strong enough to cast a shadow through the mist. Both trails lead through the wood to the coast and are quite interesting. By the sea there was almost no sound. The sea was so calm that there were no waves breaking on the rocks, and the mist meant that there was no horizon to see. Hopefully my photos will capture the ambience of the places and not look just grey. On the Charles Trail I could hear the plaintive mewl of a fog siren from further up the coast, presumably at the Digby Gut.

I shared a beer with the campsite owner and had the internet to myself...

Distance: 55.6 km
Cycling time: 3:46
Total Distance: 1154.8 km

Monday, 05 June 2006

Digby to Granville Ferry (Nova Scotia)

Monday morning - it just comes round so quick. The morning was damp, grey and cloudy, but at least it wasn't raining. I packed up my things and cycled back into Digby to find somewhere open for breakfast. I wasn't looking promising as everywhere seemed shut, but at the last, the Fundy Restaurant was open. British cuisine may be a bit of a joke compared to say French or Italian. After all what did we give the world (apart from Ros Bif!) I'll tell you what, the good British breakfast. You can't beat it. What's the most important meal of the day? At least back in the days when people actually worked for a living as opposed to sat on their butts for a living. Not that I could normally face a big fried breakfast too often at home, but now... I'm just responding to my body's needs...

It was nice to be back on the bike after yesterdays enforced rest day. I was trying to avoid using the main 101 highway, so from Digby I heaed inland to Acaciaville and then back to the coast at Smiths Cove. This wasn't easy given that my [free] map isn't very detailed and the roads were unpaved. Luckily, just when I needed some help someone came along in a car and offered directions. From Smiths Cove, again to avoid the 101, I took a long detour inland following the Bear River to a little village also called Bear River, where I stopped for some divine cherry cheesecake and a pot of tea.

From Bear River I was heading back to the coast on a rather hilly road. I crossed Hwy 101 again and rejoined route 1 through Cornwallis, Clementsport and Upper Clement, arriving in Annapolis Royal in the early afternoon. I met Tom and Gail from Florida on the wharf and they invited me to join them for lunch, which made for a pleasant and sociable change. They insisted on paying too, so I can't smell too bad yet!

After spending some time in the library I emerged to find that the weather had taken a turn for the worse; a light misty drizzle was falling and it had turned much chillier. I headed across the Annapolis causeway to the Tidal Power Plant (The only one in North America) and Visitor Centre. From there I just went the short distance to the dreadfully named 'Dunromin' campsite at Granville Ferry. ($26.45 inc. tax) Most of the site seems to be waterlogged after 3 days of rain but I managed to find a relatively dry spot down by the water of the Annapolis River.

Distance: 57.9 km
Cycling time: 3:45
Total distance: 1099.2 km

Sunday, 04 June 2006

Damp Digby

It rained all night - at least whenever I was awake enough to notice - and the downpour continued all morning. It was cold and grey and windy - I wasn't going anywhere today after yesterdays toils.

I'm not sure there's much to do in Digby (The scallop capital of the world) at the best of times - on a wet Sunday, there's nothing. The highlight of my morning was drying my wet things in the tumble-drier. the rest of the time I was confined to my sleeping bag (to keep warm) with only my friend/foe Auracaria for company.

At 2 pm even the rain had to stop for a rest, so I took the opportunity to take a ride out into town, and see if anything was open in Digby. Not much. I had time to explore the waterfront and Fisherman's Wharf before the rain started again so I went into the Shoreline Restaurant for their special of the day - not surprisingly - a scallop dinner. I just couldn't go back and sit in my damp little cabin after dinner but what else could I do in the rain. I had no choice but to sample a couple of the local ales in the Dockside Bar.

Distance: 4.9 km
Cycling time: 0:29
Total distance: 1041.3 km

Saturday, 03 June 2006

Church Point to Digby

At some point in the early morning it started to rain - I didn't hear it being as I was pitched under the picnic area, but when I awoke at 6 am I could hear the water dripping off the roof. The rain continued all morning and I toyed with the idea of staying where I was for the day, except that there was nothing to do so I'd probably go crazy. I was a little worried that there'd be a lot of spray on the roads, as a little further on the [small] route 1 road merged with the main 101 highway.

I had a leisurely breakfast while I weighed the pros and cons, and then decided to head off regardless of the weather. It wasn't until 10 am that I finally set off, but I figured I'd only go as far as Digby, the next reasonably sized town, about 30 miles away. They turned out to be some of the toughest miles I've ever cycled in my life; into the wind and non-stop rain. Luckily the road wasn't very busy, but there weren't many places to stop, so I only stopped once on the way at a little gas station cum convenience store. Even before I was in the door the owner came rushing out to offer me a towel. I had a cup of hot tea to warm up and they also gave me a cup of fresh lobster chowder, for which they refused all payment. So kind.

I was mightily relieved to arrive in Digby after what seemed like an age. The Digby campground had some little cabins available (intended for cyclists like me) and at $20 as opposed to $18 to camp, it was an easy choice. (Inc. tax $23) I changed into some dry clothes and went out to an internet cafe to upload the rest of my photos (So, 25 May to 02 June all now online) It was still pouring when I came out, so I went down to Digby waterfront to the House of Wong (again on a recommendation) for a big 'combination plate' for only $9.85

Distance: 53.5 km
Cycling time: 3:22
Total distance: 1036.4 km

Friday, 02 June 2006

Yarmouth to Church Point campground

I woke up a little before 6am, took one look out of the window at the weather, rolled over and went back to sleep for another hour. Luckily for Jamie he didn't snore. He was even quieter asleep than he was awake so I hardly knew he was there and had a good night's sleep. I crept my things out of the room and had a quick banana and yogurt breakfast with a tea before I braved the weather. I'd packed the bike and said my goodbyes and was on the road by 8am.

I headed north out of Yarmouth on Main St. with the mist drifting eerily between the houses and dampening any sound. I turned off the main road to follow the quiet coastal roads through Overton, Pembroke and Chegoggin. It was a pleasant ride on a gently undulating road. The views were muted by the blanket of grey cloud so I consoled myself with some photos of the local houses and postboxes, the later which I'm sure reflect the personality of their owners.

Through Sandford and Darling Lake, I stopped at a little restaurant in Port Maitland around 10am for a fantastic cooked breakfast. I never feel guilty about a fried breakfast when I'm cycling on the bike. And a cup of tea has never tasted do good. I had a long chat with the owner and so ended up staying for almost an hour.

When I cam out it was raining lightly, but within 10 minutes and seemingly out of nowhere it was raining heavier and was quite dark. It's a no-win situation cycling in the rain - you put your waterproofs on to stay dry and end up soaked in sweat. The rain only lasted half-an-hour, but I felt cold when I took my waterproofs off, until the sweat had dried off.

The area I was cycling through is labelled as part of the 'Acadian coast' - an area with French roots and a lot of the names are clearly of French origin and the signs in dual language. By just after noon I arrived in Meteghan having already done 50 km aleady. I stopped by the library and the Post Office and when I came out it was raining again. I'll have to stop stopping at places as it seems to make it rain. I ducked into a 'Tim Hortons' - a local fast food chain, but like all fast food places it's soulless and plasticky however nice the staff. I think I'd rather pay the extra and go to a little family-run place.

People here keep asking me if I'm from Australia or New Zealand! Can you believe it? I'm going to have to start hamming up my Hugh Grant accent a bit more.

I climbed back into my wet-weather gear and set off in the rain again. It's so frustrating to see all the things that would make a great photo but not being able to stop. I'm having a problem with oil leaking from my suspension forks and that's making my front wheel spindle/quick release work loose, and then the front wheel starts to wobble a bit; so I stopped when I saw a C@P (Community Access Program) sign (free internet) so that I could email the manufacturers and ask their advice. While I was there I was chatting to the lady on reception and she recommended a little restaurant about 5 km further on in Grosses Coques. I cycled past 2 campsites and on to Chez Cristophe where I arrived at about 5pm. It's lucky that I decided to go straight there rather than go to the campsite first as they were just taking their last reservations for the evening as I arrived. I asked them about "Rappie Pie" - something I'd seen often on signs by the roadside. It's a local delicacy made with grated potatoes and either chicken or clams. They said I should sample it first as it's not to everyones taste. Surprisingly it's almost transparent and jelly like, but I liked it. Not that that is what I ordered though; I went for the pan-fried fresh haddock and scallops (with mash, veg. and salad) - Absolutely delicious.

People here are so friendly and always eager to talk to you - perhaps especially if you are doing something a little unusual such as travelling by bike.

I cycled back to the first campsite , Belle Baie and asked how much it was to camp - $20. Church Point campground was advertising a rate of $12 ($13.80 inc. tax) but they only charged me $10. That's more like it! They had only opened for the season this week and I was the only person there. They directed me to a nice flat spot next to the lake, but then came over with the suggestion that I should camp under a roofed picnic area that they had as heavy rain was forecast for tonight and tomorrow (and Sunday) It would have been churlish to refuse. They said I could move the picnic tables around and make myself at home... There are moments in the day (or more usually at the end of the day when you finally get off the damn bike!) when you feel utter contentment with the world. Who cares if it rained most of the day.(The 'moment' doesn't usually last too long though!)

Oh, and the 'Reese' peanut butter/chocolate confection - actually not as bad as it sounds, but quite sweet.

It stays much lighter in the evenings here than in New England; it's still light until way after 9pm.

Distance: 80.1 km
Cycling time: 4:47
Total distance: 982.9 km