There are so many lingering memories of my time in Eastern Canada I’d like to share.
Let’s start with the parklets — they have a nice twist on this transformation of a few parking places into a sidewalk dining setting. This strikes me as much more efficient than the parklet design in Long Beach where the diners are sitting out in the street and the wait staff must traverse the sidewalk to reach them. Pedestrians are used to walking close to moving vehicles; I think the experience is more favorable as a patron of these establishments.
Although quiet in these photos, on Sunday after the marathon these places were packed. The nice weather helped bring people out.
Of course there are bike racks sprinkled across the city; here’s the popular ring rack.
These 4 days of touring were really 2 trips separated by 2 days of meetings. The bike was delivered to me at 11am on Tuesday and I was ready to hit the road. The route to Peggy’s Cove would bring me in a big loop, returning the next day, or so I originally planned. But the next day I would be traveling by car on the way to Moncton, New Brunswick for the first of these two meetings; as I pedaled to Peggy’s Cove I doubted I could get back in time for an 11am pickup the next morning. Plus as I’ve said so many times, the weather was good, so I kept going. The wind made this a tough outing, but only for the first half and when I changed direction on the way back I eventually discovered the off-road path that would be my route for the second outing beginning Friday morning.
Peggy’s Cove is beautiful in an understated way.
Many scenes like this are the ones that will stick in my memory. There were so many lakes with no development, so I felt further out into the wilderness than my odometer could confirm.
And the time on the trail, it brought back memories of my childhood in rural Massachusetts. I grew up on 18 acres of forests with ponds and streams; places where I could sit and enjoy nature and at all times of the year, of course. This was what kept coming up for me. Little things like all the pea stone driveways; here in the big city every driveway is paved, but not where I grew up and to see these puddled driveways crossing the bike path made me think I was truly in a different place and time.
Next time I’ll budget more time for this journey. Maybe I’d start in Lunenburg, just a little further to the south, and work my way into the city. But as I consider this alternative I begin to see the folly of its plan; I’d come home wishing for more and thinking of my next tour and dedicating even more time for that journey. I suppose that’s the sign of a great getaway; one that leaves vivid memories in its wake and leaves you wishing for more.
The weather may not be suitable for bike touring, but I’m pleased I already have my excuse for a return visit in October.
There’s no shortage of waterfront homes. For Sale signs abound, so I’m guessing it’s a buyer’s market; prices would look pretty cheap to anyone from Southern California.
I couldn’t remember when I’d last had a root beer float.