Subjectivity Has Its Place

by Joyce Dalton

What was your favorite…. town? inn? site? view? restaurant? What traveler hasn’t returned to these or similar questions? While objective praise or criticism is part of travel writing, most writers aim to avoid superlatives and wholly subjective views. After all, one person’s “wonderful” is another’s “boring.” And so I thought it would be fun (and hopefully, of some value) to offer, for a change, a totally personal take on my 10-day drive around Nova Scotia.

The Lay of the Land

Right from the beginning, subjectivity sneaks in. Whoever plans the itinerary, you or a tour operator, it’s based or chosen on what the traveler expects to like. In my Nova Scotia case, I opted for a route that covered a good part of the island: from Halifax airport along the Atlantic to Lunenburg via Chester and Mahone Bay; east-west across the province from Liverpool to Annapolis Royal on the Bay of Fundy; northeast to Mulgrave via Wolfville and Windsor with a too-brief detour north to Pictou; across the causeway to Cape Breton, looping the island, then back to Halifax.

My rented Toyota Yaris and I relished the mostly one-lane-in-each-direction roads, the curves and hills. Car trips are usually not my thing, but with little traffic, relatively short distances, no lack of historic small towns to check out and plenty of wooded or coastal vistas, I found it an ideal way to experience the province.

Sights and Sites, a Biased View

When it comes to nature, mountains, even rolling hills, win my vote every time. While the Rockies have nothing to fear from Nova Scotia’s highlands, the latter are forested and lovely, complete with the occasional sighting of wild critters. One of my favorite natural-world moments came as a bear stared at me from his perch atop a rocky cliff in Cape Breton National Park. Naturally, I stared back. As luck usually doesn’t have it, his chosen spot was just opposite a roadside pull-over.

Gorgeous coastlines notwithstanding, I can’t get too excited about water which seems to go on and on in a somewhat unchanging way. The Bay of Fundy, separating Nova Scotia from New Brunswick, is an exception. Nothing unchanging about this batch of aqua. According to a bayside sign in Annapolis Royal, the water level rises or falls approximately one foot every 15 minutes, making it the world’s most extreme tide.

As for man-made sites, I go with Port Royal. Situated just outside the rather uninteresting town of Annapolis Royal (remember, all this is admittedly subjective), the former Acadian settlement dates to the early 17th century, although today’s buildings are a re-creation. A designated National Historic Site of Canada, it consists of a rectangular complex of connected structures designed to house workers and the governor, plus craftsmen’s workshops. Guides in period dress provide often lengthy explanations and anecdotes; mine, in fact, relished reeling off French-sounding names which, as far as I knew, were pop stars or his 21st century friends.

Halifax’s Maritime Museum is another winner, providing a wealth of exhibits dealing with shipbuilding, sea personages such as Samuel Cunard who founded the shipping company that bears his name, a deck chair from the Titanic, and a video of the 1917 explosion in Halifax Bay when two warships, one carrying explosives, collided, resulting in the deaths of more than 1,700 people.

While English/French signage is commonplace in Canada, the English/Gaelic version along part of Cape Breton Island’s coast seemed several steps more exotic. After all, how many places in North America announce that the motorist has entered the town limits of An Rubha Fada (Long Point) or A’ Chreag Mhor (Craigmore)? Regrettably, my keyboard’s limited linguistic skills can’t determine how to place an accent mark over the o in Mhor.

Prettiest and/or Most Walkable Towns

As far as I’m concerned, Lunenburg tops the list hands down. Imminently strollable except for a number of steep streets, this little town claims a variety of intriguing architectural styles, an abundance of shops, tree-lined residential streets and 44 fish sculptures hanging from lampposts. The sculptures are fitting since Lunenburg is considered one of the greatest fishing ports on the continent. As one local wit summed it up, “Lunenburg – a nice little drinking town with a fishing problem.” A few hilly blocks off the main shopping and dining street, the multi-steepled St. John’s Anglican Church presents a grand but serene exterior. A short walk leads to the Lunenburg Academy, yet another architecturally impressive structure.

Jutting into the Northumberland Strait, Pictou lies just south of Caribou, one of the two access points for Prince Edward Island. Founded in 1773, Pictou is known as the “birthplace of New Scotland.” The Hector Interpretative Centre’s displays recount the story of the Hector, a three-masted Dutch sailing ship that brought the first immigrants from the Scottish highlands to the province. A full-scale replica of the ship stands nearby in the harbor. Many of Pictou’s older residences were constructed of ballast stone carried in the holds of ships arriving from Europe. Signs around town provide passersby with intriguing trivia: chloroform was produced for the first time in North America “right here in Pictou,” for example, and the local Lobster Carnival is the world’s “oldest and largest.” “Some say it is also the best,” the latter sign adds.

Lodging by the Subtitles

Designating one inn, hotel or B&B “best,” even personal best, involves too many variables. So I’ll cop out with best by category. Of the eight lodgings sampled, two don’t bear mentioning (not dreadful, just not memorable); only in Halifax did I spend more than one night.

Most striking exterior: To me, this means Victorian, the more architectural flourishes, the better. Nova Scotia claims no lack of 19th century mansions operating as B&Bs. For pure stop-stare-and-photograph grandeur, Briarwood B&B (dating to 1862) in Elmsdale (12 miles from the Halifax airport), Ashlea House (1886-90) in Lunenburg, Queen Anne Inn (1865) in Annapolis Royal and Clockmaker’s Inn (1894) in Windsor are hard to beat.

Prettiest room: Limited to rooms I slept in, my vote goes to Queen Anne Inn, Halifax’s The Halliburton and Mill Street B&B in Mulgrove hard by the causeway to Cape Breton Island. Queen Anne offered cheerful décor, a featherbed and high quality linens, while my Halliburton room, in one of the three attached 19th century townhouses that comprise the inn, was small but cozy and comfy with nice bedding and thick towels. The two guest rooms at Mill St. are both suites which belie the house’s ordinary modern exterior. French doors separated the living room with its blue flowered sofa from a bedroom with four-poster bed topped by a crocheted canopy.

Perks and the lack thereof: Free bottled water at Ashlea House and The Halliburton not only saved a bit of money, but kept my hands free for photography when returning from town. Queen Anne Inn’s featherbed was especially welcome as were the complimentary postcards and bookmark. A first in my experience was Clockmaker’s Inn’s 20 minutes worth of free phone calls anywhere in North America. And one of the two guest robes at Clockmaker’s actually was sized to fit the average woman rather than a man.

Surprisingly, coffee and cookies were not set out at all B&Bs.

The subject of amenities presents a good opportunity for a few general rants and raves: appreciated non-costly extras include shampoo and soap that do not come out of dispensers hung on shower walls; printed information if the property is historic; a town map; a nightlight, and a radio/alarm that doesn’t require an engineering degree to set.

Best included breakfast: Ashlea House’s breakfast was quite a production with the proprietor explaining each of the six to eight dishes. The dining room furnishings were period, the table attractively set and the guests (six Canadians, one British, one American) companionable. Since Queen Anne has its own rather elegant restaurant, guests sat at individual tables and had a choice of three breakfast entrees. Forevermore, waffles served with local strawberries and sweet cream will be judged against Queen Anne’s.

What’s for dinner?

I tend to spend my trip time and money on accommodations and sights rather than restaurants, especially when traveling alone. This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy good food and so I should note two especially pleasant dinners.

The proprietor of my B&B in Mulgrove suggested the Cove Marina Dining Room, which turned out to be owned by her cousin. Nepotism aside, my waterside table presented pleasant views and the lemon chicken and multi-berry pie, a tasty meal. To write that my most memorable dinner was at Halliburton House’s Stories restaurant and then add that I don’t remember exactly what I ate makes clear why I’m not a food writer. What stays in my mind is the complete dining experience of fine food (whatever it was), attractive surroundings and the most attentive, yet not intrusive, service. I do remember the check, which was definitely on the high end.

Subjectivity has its place

So that’s my highly personal Nova Scotia round-up, the places and sites I remember most fondly. If you find some of my choices dreadful, well, that’s subjectivity for you. If any appear on your personal best list, we must share travel tastes. No matter how many guidebooks we read or guides we hear speak, it’s our impressions that make memories and that’s about as subjective as travel gets.

For further information:

Nova Scotia Visitor Information. www.novascotia.com. Ask for the very complete Doers’ and Dreamers’ guide.

Briarwood B&B. www.briarwoodbb.com

Ashlea House B&B. www.ashleahouse.com

Queen Anne Inn. www.queenanneinn.ns.ca

Clockmaker’s Inn. www.theclockmakersinn.com

Mill Street Bed &Breakfast. www.millstreetbedbrkfst.com

The Halliburton. www.thehalliburton.com

Images by Joyce Dalton