Today we drove south off of Cape Breton Island to Halifax, about a 4.5 hour drive. Dad and I got up at a reasonable hour and then headed out to breakfast, the same place we had dinner last night. A little spot that was featured in the AAA Nova Scotia book called The Main Street Restaurant and Bakery, where I had a really amazing omelette. Then, when the eating was over, it was time to face the hair-raising hair-pin turns that was getting out of Cape Breton.
I asked Dad if we could listen to some of my music as I drove south - the Lumineers, for they always make me happy; Django Django, which I'm not so sure Dad liked as much as I thought he would; and then the last stretch of music listening Dad turned on some Simon and Garfunkel that's on my iPad. So, for that part, as I drove, Dad and I crooned way off key -- and it brought me back to when I was in high school and the forty-five minute drives between Dad's house and my mom's, where we would turn up Simon and Garfunkel loud and sign together -- neither one of us judging the other. It was actually a wonderful time this afternoon, bellowing out "Bridge Over Troubled Water" together.
We got here to Halifax, and I was grouchy pants. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, except for a KIND bar. So, Dad said we should head out to the yarn shop soon after arriving, but I found myself getting impatient with any procrastinating either one of us enacted.
We did get to the yarn shop in time and the proprietor recommended a truly wonderful restaurant for dinner -- Edna. So, now we're back at the hotel and Dad is reading all of the blurbs on the possible movie selections.
Yesterday we drove along the top of Cape Breton Island. There aren't words for how absolutely amazing it all was. Driving there and back again gave amazing views that altered in perspective. It's hard to describe just how beautiful were the mountain that dropped into the water, with sheer rock faces and dark and light green trees on the top.
I think it would be amazing to take a kayak tour along those rock faces, and a boat trip out to see whales and puffins. But as it was, it was a delightful day filled a Chowder House and breath taking views.
Tomorrow takes us off Nova Scotia, which is a sad, sad day. Tomorrow we catch a ferry to St. John, Nova Scotia and from there, on Monday, we travel to Bangor to catch a flight out around 5.30pm. Which leaves me at my house around 8.30/9.00pm on Monday night.
All of this sort of bums me out. How is it possible for me to such a people person, but at the same point long for nature, the smell of ocean in the air and a lack of people around where I live. I feel so comfortable when I go out my door and all I see is grass, trees and nature -- nothing else. It has only happened a couple of times in my life, that that is my front door, but those times were sweet. I think when this studying is over I might wind up in the city. Living in the concrete mazes makes part of me squirms at that thought.
Dad pointed out that my life's future profession should probably include planned journeys away from civilization, away from people's problems. That these journeys should provide the opportunity to sit on beaches and stare at water. I think I'm inclined to agree -- especially if I do wind up living in the heart of Philly. I will need to find a way to have a house in the wiles of New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine or, heck, no-where's-ville Pennsylvania. If I were on a lake, that might take care of my water need as well.
Tomorrow afternoon, we board the ferry at 4 local time - which is 3.00 Philly time. It will be over 2 hours on the water and I'm a little worried about it. The travel agent said that it was the harshest water to be found aoround. The Bay of Fundy is not known for being calm and I don't do so well with being nauseated. In fact, I am never, ever, ever okay with throwing up. In light of this, I find myself a little trepidatious about tomorrow's jaunt across the "lumpy water" as Dad was calling it as we wandered around Cape Breton Island between Ingonish and Cheticamp yesterday.