East Coast Travel

Cape d’Or Lighthouse hike

Cape Chignecto, Provincial Park office at the entrance

Points of Interest, Cape Chignecto, Nova Scotia

I pull into the Cape Chignecto Provincial Park. The entrance gate is pulled shut so I can’t drive in, but I see a car parked in the lot and park beside it. My hope is the car belongs to someone working in the office. As I get closer I don’t have to check the door – I see the  Closed sign hanging…

I had heard about a beach where you could walk the shore at low tide and search for amethyst. I don’t remember how I found it, I just remember driving my truck across a rocky beach. Then I proceeded to walk with my head down looking for and picking up any stone that had the slightest glimmer of purple.

A few years later I returned with my sister, brother-In-law and niece to camp in the area. Again we walked the shore,  looking for the precious gemstones.  We divided up and searched sections. I climbed the up the incline, just on the outer part of an area that was cordoned off for geological study. Any bits of amethyst I found, I stowed in my pocket.

After a good hour of beachcombing, we regrouped to show each other what we’d found, but it was slim pickings for all of us. We each kept our best find and left the rest on the beach.   On that day I wanted to climb the trails to the top of island but it was so muddy and slippery I decided against it.

For the third time I am back on Partridge Island, walking the beach. But today I head straight to the Eco trail sign and bound up the steep path.

Spring thaw has made for a spongy trail, and a harsh winter of punishing winds has taken its toll. I start thinking the trail may become impassible as I straddle a fallen tree and trip over some exposed roots.  I will need my happy feet for this hike.

Partridge Island Eco- trail

Within a few minutes the path turns left and continues upward. The leaves have not sprouted yet, so from a bench at a lookout there is a decent view to the islands of Cape Chignecto, out in the Bay of Fundy.

Trail around Partridge Island

The final rise to the top affords a good view of the basin.

What can be seen on a clear day: An open view of more than 44 kilometers of coastline from the Minas Basin to Cobequid Bay sign at the top.

To complete the trail to the look off tower you have to go downhill for about 10 minutes. The path is dry and worn.

    Path to tower

view through the trees

Other side of Partridge Island. Tower look off

It is not a loop trail – you have to return the same way you came. When I get back around to the front of the island I hear a horn blow.  I pay no attention, continuing to place one foot in front of the other. Then the siren screams off again and a thought crosses my mind: It could be a warning that the tide has begun to come in. Visions of being cut off from my truck and being stranded on the island frighten me into a gallop down the path.

Dashing down the path.

When I exit the trail the panic subsides. The island beach is essentially a breakwater, so I was never in any real danger of being stranded. I believe the entire hike took only 35 minutes. You will want to have at least an hour to do some rock-hounding, and make sure to get a look at the basalt columns, similar to the famous ones at Giant’s Causeway in Ireland.

As I drive slowly back across the beach, I make a discovery: The first and only house on the road leading down to Partridge Island beach is Ottawa House. One of the oldest buildings in the province, it was built in 1780s as a summer residence for Charles Tupper, who was the premier of Nova Scotia, a Father of Confederation, and the sixth prime minister of Canada. Please read In Honour of Canada’s 150th for more on my search for the Fathers of Confederation.

Ottawa House- Home to Charles Tupper, a premier of Nova Scotia, Father of Confederation, and the sixth prime minister of Canada.

I pull over and walk up the onto the porch. With my hands shielding the sunlight, I peek into a window  The home is dark and a Closed for the Season sign is placed in the window.  I guess that means I will have to do a fourth trip to Partridge Island. I snap a few pictures then return to my truck and accelerate back on the road towards Parrsboro.

Please join me as I continue around Cape Chignecto, Nova Scotia. Here is Joggins fossil cliffs- UNESCO WHS If you missed the beginning of my trip. Until next time happy travels from Maritime Mac.

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Saturday’s Shot

Shrouded in fog, the Saint John River flooding. Oromocto, New Brunswick. Saturday, 28th, 2018 8:20 am.

Stairs down to the fossil cliffs. Joggins, Nova Scotia

When I get to the end, the final access stairs have been removed and a tiered cement structure is all that remains.  With a big sigh I figure I have been euchred. I take my panoramic picture squinting into the sunlight.

Beach of Joggins fossil cliff, UNESCO world heritage site.

The cliffs of Joggins are incredible. The various layers of striated earth rise out of the sea and continue up the shoreline.  Folded and pushed together, slices of the ages are visible in the cliff. Coal and shale have trapped eons of creatures and fossilized them so we can see them today projected on rocks that become exposed with each high tide.

I see something move along a one of the seams running out into the bay. Down at the tide edge, A person perhaps?  I zoom my lens in for a better look. It is definitely a man.  He didn’t walk out of the sea or hike the entire shoreline to get here, so he must have climbed down this tower in front of me.

I have a long look at the tiered cement structure and strategize how to climb down: the ends are stacked like logs and if I get a grip on the top, I can place a foot on each level and feel my way down.  A rush of adrenaline courses through me when my feet finally strike the shale rocks. I find myself in another forbidden place. (Please read My Quest for the Forbidden in Saint John)

I climbed down the square thing to the beach.

The first thing I notice is a shower of water shooting over the cliff’s edge and finding its way out to the bay.

The folds in the rock are so cool.  I jump the stream and start to scour the ground for fossils embedded in rocks.  I find unusual colours and shapes in the rocks immediately.

          Fossils in the rocks on the beach

The man has left the water’s edge and made his way up to the cliff side. He puts his back against the wall of stone then kneels down and hunches over his cigarette while trying to light it in the wind. I approach quietly “Hi, I am Kelly, I take it you also climbed down the cement log cabin.”

He puckers his lips and takes three quick draws on his smoke to ensure it is lit. Then replies, ” Yes, I always come by whenever I get back home.”

“I read on the website that it was open on April 22nd,  I figured one day early wouldn’t matter.”

He nods, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette.” Doesn’t look like they are ready to open. It is so nice of them to leave that well at the end where the stairs are suppose to be. I have been here when it is closed more than when it is open. I don’t get home from B.C. that often.”

I do the nodding this time. “I am heading to Halifax, down from New Brunswick. I thought I would stop have a look, I have been here once before.”

He draws hard on his cigarette holds his breath for a moment then turns his head and exhales the smoke out into the wind.

“Yes, I just like it here,” he stares out to the sea.

“Well enjoy your day,” I smile and leave him to his thoughts.

I amble over the rocks snapping a few more photos.

        cliff layers

seams that roll out under the sea

I make my way back up the to the parking lot and search the exterior of the building for cameras that may have captured my violations, I am sure there are here, hidden, but I don’t see any. Just then I noticed the bricks of he building are designed to look like the cliffs slanting upward as if coming up out of the ground. Too bad it wasn’t open today, I enjoyed the exhibits in the fossil center last time I was here.  If you want to know more about what the center has to offer here is the link. Joggins fossil cliffs,

The address is;

Joggins Fossil Centre 100 Main Street Joggins NS B0L 1A0 Canada

Joggins Fossil Center, UNESCO World Heritage Site

  Until next time happy travels from Maritime Mac.

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Saturday’s Shot

Cape d’or light house, Advocate, Nova Scotia. On the Fundy coast. Cape D’or lighthouse Advocate, NS  

It is another dismal grey day, the odd speckle of rain strikes my glasses, leaving the tiniest of water droplets on my lens. It is not enough to deter me, but enough that I keep my camera stuffed inside my zipped-up raincoat over top my puffy jacket, over top my fleece. Did I mention it is still cold?

Mounds of granular waist-high snow, black with street dirt, rim the parking lot.   The landscape looks just defeated, covered with last season’s leaf litter; trees naked, without so much as a hopeful bud.  What my mind’s eye remembers from last summer is not in agreement with what I am looking at.  This could be harder to sell than I thought. I’ll start with the entrance sign and move inward.

Entrance gate plaque says the park is to commemorate the centennial of Canada 1867/1967, a project developed in cooperation between the city of Federiction, the province of New Bruswick and Government of Canada

I head up the first access path to the arboretum, hoping for inspiration from the trees. I remember there are plaques marking all the native trees of New Brunswick here. Odell Park has one of the finest old-growth forests in eastern Canada and many of the trees are more than 400 years old.

I have chosen a bad path to follow. The melted snow has left a a slurry of ice. I penguin -walk across to the first plaque. It seems water-logged and is virtually unreadable. I can make out Large-tooth Aspen. The identification lists information about this species of tree – height, stem, bark, crown, leaves and bud.  Every tree around me looks the same, straight trunk with scraggly limbs.  This won’t do, I say to myself, and exit the path.

Large-tooth Aspen trees.

The map of the park has winter access and summer access marked. Below the map are plexiglass pockets filled with lost and found mittens, gloves, hats and a single tiny snowshoe. Up the hill is the duck pond, still frozen over. I leave the pond and trek up the middle path toward the washrooms.

I meet a man with an orange vest. He doesn’t greet me, just says, “The toilets are gone.”

“What?” I wrench out my answer as if it is the craziest thing I have ever heard.

He reconsiders what he said.

“Oh, I mean we are re-tiling the floor, the toilets have been taken out till we are finished.”  I walk away shaking my head.

Beside the building a stand of decorative cedar is twisted and bent. I walk between their wiggly trucks. It is like a funhouse of limbs, and it makes me smile as I exit the far side.

Wiggly forest Odell Park.

I hear water gurgling and I am drawn to it.  A small flowing stream trickles between its banks over rocks and fallen limbs. I squat down and reach into the cold water to grab a plastic bag hung up on a rock and deposit it in a garbage bin.

Small brook among large trees.

I head further into the woods, even though the trail is snow-covered. The young balsam fir trees shine with green shoots and their colour tells me there is life emerging.

Young balsam fir trees show a bright green.

The decaying snow is littered with cones, needles, twigs and seed pods that were shed from their parent trees, all of which are useful forage for squirrels, chipmunks, mice and birds.

Snow covered in tree litter.

I follow the main trail back down the hill. I stop to listen to the chirps and tweets of birds, the clucking of squirrels.  I also hear a low murmur of voices behind me.

Usually I am friendly to those I meet while I am out hiking, but at this moment I am annoyed. I had the whole old-growth acadian forest to myself and I am resentful of the intrusion by these two young people chatting, away disturbing my peace.  I stop and they pass me as if I am invisible.  I wait a few moments before looking their way again and on cue they reach out for each other’s hand, totally absorbed in the other’s company. Ah spring love. My annoyance melts away.

Love is in the air in Odell Park.

At the top of the park is the botanical garden. Obviously not worth seeing today, but all summer and late into the fall you can see gardens fill with colourful flowers.  (Photos from September 2017)

      Black-eyed susan’s in the botanical gardens of Odell Park

  Also  in the botanical garden is a sculpture called Roda, handcrafted by James Boyd from Hampton, New Brunswick. Please read Humanity Found in Hampton, NB  and It All Started With Love to find out more on Hampton and sculputures by James Boyd.

Just as I am leaving, I spot a single white pine off in the distance, its many limbs dividing off the main trunk.  It is very impressive and I have to get a photo of it.  I tiptoe through the saturated ground, my shoes are wet and socks are soaked. As I get closer I think, this tree is enormous. The one limb that has been trimmed off would be the size of a normal tree trunk. I look around to find something to balance my camera so I can get a photo of myself beside it for scale, but nothing is available. You will have to trust me when I say it is a very large old tree.

Fantastic old white pine tree.

Down the bank I side-step around snarled roots of a tree that appears to be crawling away, reaching out to the field. Years of erosion and foot traffic have laid the roots bare but the tree is tall and proud and makes a grand feature photo.  Odell Park is not all about the trees, but they sure know how to capture your attention.

Please join me on my next instalment of city parks.

If you missed the first three here are the links:

Irving Nature Park- Saint John, NB

Victoria Park, Truro, Nova Scotia]

Irishtown Nature Park, Moncton

Until next time cheers and happy travels from Maritime Mmac.

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Thank you ! 500 Followers

Congratulations on getting 500 total follows on MaritimeMac! Your current tally is 501. I didn’t dream I could get here, thank you for following. Going forward, I will continue to strive to write good content, to read as many posts I can, and interact with fellow writers to stay inspired. Cheers friends.

Irishtown Nature Park, Moncton

Irishtown Nature Park sign at entrance I am driving west on the Trans Canada highway, and I am having an internal debate, flip-flopping between should I ? should I not?  The Notre-Dame/ Saint Antoine exit is coming up fast, so I have to make this decision now. Last moment the right-hand turn signal goes on and I decelerate down the ramp. I had hiked around Victoria Park, Truro, Nova Scotia  this…

Saturday’s Shot

Every Saturday, I head out with my camera to take photos of something special to share. I go through all picture and choose the best and most unique shot of the day. This morning I was walking on a path that follows the Oromocto river bank, and I heard a loud ” splash” it startled me enough that I jumped and thought,  “What the heck was that? It was a beaver.  He dived under water, then…

Victoria Park, Truro, Nova Scotia

The sign says Truro – The Hub of Nova Scotia. From here a web of roads spindles outward and onward to Cape Breton, New Brunswick, Halifax and the South Shore.  I think to myself: When you advertise that you are the jump-off point to other places, that is generally how you will be seen, from the car window on your way to other places. I reason this is why I am not that familiar with what Truro has…

Saturday’s Shot

The Hector Pictou, Nova Scotia  

20. Bouctouche, New Brunswick.

Just 30 minutes south of Kouchibouquac National Park and and 45 minutes north of Moncton.  If you are doing the Acadia Coast Drive make sure to check out Bouctouche.  Here the Irving Eco-Center boasts great bird-watching and wildlife.  Meander along the boardwalk perched above the sand dunes and watch great blue herons wade in the shallows. Bring a lawn chair and towel – the beach is great too.

  View from the tower. Irving Eco Center, Bouctouche New Brunswick

19. Port Hastings, Nova Scotia, 

Should be your first stop on Cape Breton Island. Not only was the Canso Causeway an engineering wonder of its day, the view to Porcupine Mountain is amazing. Watch the boats pass through the canal between the Strait of Canso and the Northumberland Strait. You can walk out on the rocky point of land and take a photo at marker zero of the Ceilidh Coastal Trail. With a little luck you may see whales, seals, eagles and gulls congregate to feast on what the churning waters serve up.  Please see Cape Breton- Rediscovered Part 1 and  Cape Breton- Part 2-A Tourist at Home for further reading on the area.

18. Saint John, New Brunswick.

What’s not to love about Saint John? It’s geologically fascinating, historically important, has a trendy nightlife, lots for food lovers to take in and one of the hottest cruise ship ports around. Make sure to check out the City Market, Reversing Falls, Rockwood and Irving nature parks.  for further reading:

On The Trail of Loyalists,

In Honour of Canada’s 150th  

Summer Of The Beach

It All Started With Love

My Quest for the Forbidden in Saint John

The Art of Saint John

Saint John: The Rest of the Story

Irving Nature Park- Saint John, NB

17. Miramichi, New Brunswick

Miramichi makes it to my list for the second year in a row. I can’t get enough of the beautiful scenery.  Kouchibouquac National Park is 20 minutes south for camping and exploring. Hike in the French Fort Cove, catch a boat tour on the Miramichi River from Ritchie Wharf.  Learn about the hardships and courage of the Acadian people during the expulsion at Wilson’s Point and Beaubears Island national historic sites. Some of the best salmon fishing there is. Also a stop on the Via Rail train heading both westward and east towards Moncton and Halifax. Further reading. The Miramichi River Route, as I would do it.

16. Heartland, New Brunswick 

I came here for two things; the world’s longest covered bridge and The Covered Bridge Potato chip factory. Enjoy both while you are visiting. Please read Bridges To Cross, 2017 New Brunswick

  Hartland Covered Bridge The world’s longest covered bridge

15. St Peters, Cape Breton, NS.

An epic bucket list “must do” for sailors is to traverse the locks of the canal – within minutes you are transported from the Atlantic Ocean to Bras d’Or Lake.  The area was home to the Mi’kmaq people for thousands of years before the first European settlers came in the late 1580’s.  There is usually a ceilidh or festival going on somewhere. Nearby Point Michaud beach is excellent.  Further posts Cape Breton- Part 3. Mowat and St Peters.

14. Sackville, New Brunswick

This is bird-watching paradise. Land that was drained for farming by the early Acadian settlers has been reclaimed and is now  home to a waterfowl park.  The surrounding trail conjoins with the trans-Canada trail, so if you choose to you can walk or cycle all the way to Cape Jourmaine. Two national historic sites, several provincial historic sites, home to Mount Alison University and its fantastic library. There are dozens of artisans and craftspeople, it is a cultural playground. For further reading; Searching around Sackville, New Brunswick Part 1

Searching Around Sackville Part 2

Sackville, New Brunswick waterfowl park and so much more

13. Tignish, Nova Scotia

I came here to see Tignish Dock Provincial Park. Henry Ketchum had an ambitious idea to create a rail line and lifting bridge across the Chignecto isthmus from Fort Lawrence on the Bay of Fundy, to Tignish on the Northumberland shore. The ill-fated historic Chignecto Marine Transport Railway ran out of money before it was completed and was scrapped and dismantled to pay creditors. The provincial park pays tribute to its legacy.  It has a picnic area, toilets, a red sand beach and a suspension bridge. I loved it.

  12. Fredericton, New Brunswick

Fredericton, the capital of New Brunswick, is located on the banks of the Saint John River. What it lacks in size it makes up for in amenities. Theater, museums, cafes, pubs, parks, walking and cycling trails. A four-season vacation area. Please see further reading in my post My Fredericton, New Brunswick.

Black-eyed Susans in the botanical gardens of Odell Park

11. Springhill, Nova Scotia

If you have heard of Nova Scotia’s favourite daughter, Anne Murray, then you will want to go through her museum. It has a large collection of memorabilia including photos, accolades and videos from her career.  She usually visits town during Old Home Week in August each year. Make sure to go through the Springhill coal mine. You will feel what it was like to go underground in horrible working conditions and understand the fear many endured while being buried alive for days when the mine collapsed in the town’s famous mining disaster in 1958.  A poignant exhibit that left me shaken, yet so happy I went.

    10 Cape Jourmain National Wildlife Area, New Brunswick

Great hiking along the coastline to the lighthouse. I really enjoyed the views to the Confederation Bridge across to Prince Edward Island.  Lots of bird-watching and an excellent interpretive center.

Confederation Bridge from Cape Tormentine June 30th, 2017

9. Stanhope National Park, PEI

This is the land of of sand dunes, lighthouses and beaches. Go for a dip in the ocean, or kayak along the shore. Photograph birds nesting and endless sunsets. Take a drive along the gulf coast parkway to Dalvay-by-the sea. Only 25 minutes to Charlottetown.

Stanhope Beach inside PEI national park

8. Welsford, New Brunswick,

What a hidden gem. Make sure to see to see Welsford Falls and hike Bald Mountain. If you are more daring, rock climbers from all over come here to climb. For further reading; Welsford, New Brunswick. The Best of

    7. Victoria, PEI

A small, charming seaside community, old restored homes have been transformed into artists’ shops, chocolatiers, restaurants and museums. Be sure to see Prince Edward Island’s largest tree and if you sure-footed and not afraid of heights, climb the ladder to the top of the local lighthouse.

  6. Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island

Canada’s story started here and Charlottetown does our country proud.  Beautifully maintained heritage buildings,  seaside views and helpful residents to make you feel at home.  Dine al fresco on a patio on Victoria Row before taking in a production at the art center or just people-watch. A  very walk-able town.

        Charlottetown, Pedestrian area, cafes, artist shops patios in a historic district

    5. Cape George, Nova Scotia.

Called the “little Cabot Trail” for a reason,  the road hugs the bends of the coastline and climbs, affording magnificent views of the Northumberland  coast.  Hike to the lighthouse. I brought a lunch and enjoyed the views even in early March.

Cape George Lighthouse

4. Hampton, New Brunswick

This was one of my favourite places last year.  It had everything – scenery, a beautifully laid-out town filled with sculptures and historic buildings. The artisan quilt barn tour was fun to follow. Lots of hiking trails and famous for bird-watching.  I highly recommend Hampton.

Light House Park Hampton NB

  3. Fundy National Park New Brunswick

If they views aren’t enough to bring you here, how about the world’s highest tides, two covered bridges and miles of hiking trails. For a long hike go to Third Vault Falls or for a shorter one try Dickson Falls. There is a golf course, a hotel, cabins and plenty of like-minded folks enjoying nature.

Fundy National Park

2. Sussex, New Brunswick

I really enjoyed myself in Sussex.  Between searching for murals and covered bridges, I also found two of my favourite places to hike.  For further reading please read;

Walton Glen Gorge…….ous.

Sussex New Brunswick- Don’t Just Pass Through

Sussex Bluff. The Hike Part 3

Belise covered bridge

1. Fundy Trail Parkway

What can I say about this place? Home to the famous Fundy Footpath – 41 kilometers of wilderness trail along the Fundy coast. Listed as one of the 50 best hikes in the world. The scenery is breathtaking.  There are shorter hikes to waterfalls, rock formations and a sea-captain’s grave.  for more information please read The Fundy Trail Parkway, Is Not The Fundy National Park.

Flower Pot from Observation deck 1

There you have it, this year’s Top 20. Please join me again as I strike out on new adventures. Until next time, happy travels from Maritime Mac.

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I exit the highway and take the scenic Saint John river road, past the little Temple stallion that rears up on the lawn of someone’s home.

The Benton Road sign comes into view and I follow it for about 12 kilometers, where the pavement ends.  Cautiously I swerve around potholes, and slosh through patches where the snow has drifted and hasn’t melted completely yet.  I find a fella walking along the road. I pull over and put my window down. “Excuse me, do you know where the Benton covered bridge is?” He shakes his head. Maybe I have the name of it wrong.  I rephrase my question. “Is there a covered bridge somewhere on this road?”

” I don’t think so” he says.

I muddle his words over as I keep going.  Lots of covered bridges have been dismantled, some are way off in the woods out of service and sometimes I just have wrong location. I make a deal with myself: I’ll go another five minutes. If I don’t find it, I will turn around.  Within two bends of the road I see the bridge.  That fella must walk short distances. How could he not know this bridge is here?

Benton covered bridge over Eel River.

I backtrack to highway 165. This area was an important trading post and village to the Maliseet people. When the Mactaquac Dam was built the area was flooded.  A cairn that marked the spot was moved to Fort Meductic Road.  A national historic site plaque is supposed to be here; unfortunately,  the stone remains but the plaque is missing.  I can’t say whether it is removed every winter or if it has been vandalized. The snow is still quite deep so I can’t see if the cairn is still there. I come away disappointed. Please see my post METEPENAGIAG HERITAGE PARK.  NB. It has more national historic site dedications to the our Mi’kmaq first nations- indigenous to the Atlantic Canada.

Fort Meductic National Historic Site plaque. Fort Meductic Road Hwy 165, Hay Settlement, New Brunswick

I continue on Hwy 165, past Maliseet Trail to Hay Falls, N.B.  No vehicles are parked out front of the trail today. It looks icy now that the snow has melted and refrozen.  A little further down the road, I come to the Anglican church. I pull over onto the shoulder and debate roaming around the cemetery. This is where George Frederick Clark is buried but with so much snow still covering the ground, looking for graves is futile. I resume my course into town. I will go see his former home instead. (photo from Google)

I park in the lot at the police station and walk up the road to 812 Main. It is a provincial historic site but no plaque adorns the house that I can see.  I mentioned him in my post The Last Fatal Duel. New Maryland, NB.   The pistols supposedly used in that duel were found among the collection of artifacts he had acquired throughout his life.

George Frederick Clark home. Woodstock, New Brunswick, Canada

Since I am working on seeing all the national historic sites in New Brunswick. I can check The Connell House off my list too. It was built in 1839 and is the listed as one of  the oldest buildings in New Brunswick. The former residence of Charles Connell, a prominent businessman and politician who is best known as a postmaster, he was on a Canadian stamp in 1860. The house is now the home to the Carleton County Historic Society.

The Connell House, a national historic site. Woodstock NB

More provincial historic sites to visit: the L.P. Fisher Library,  the armoury and the Carleton County court house and gaol. I won’t bore you with the facts of the case, but the jail was the location of the last hanging that took place in New Brunswick. I rest my face up against the chain-link fence surrounding the back yard. I see no signs of hangings – just like at the court house in Saint John: The Rest of the Story, nothing remains of the gallows that was here.   So I am off to do some hiking.

    LP Fisher Public Library Woodstock NB

Carleton County Court House

Armoury Woodstock NB

  The Saint John River meanders through the town.  When I was here in February, snowmobilers were laying down tracks across its frozen surface, but break-up has begun and the ice is receding northward. I come across this out-of-place headstone at the side of the river. It is dedicated to Andrew and David Stitt  I can’t help but wonder if they are remembered here for losing their lives to the river.

A memorial headstone beside the riverbank to Andrew and David Stitt.

The breeze is chilly and the boardwalk is still snow-covered. I set my sights on hiking to Upham Brook Falls. Within ten minutes of leaving the downtown core, I am at the starting point to a small trail leading down the bank toward the stream.  I place a foot on top of the snow crust and sink beyond the rim of my boot. Punching through, I notice the trail is made up of deer tracks.  They are obviously lighter on their feet than I am; my boots are filled with snow and my socks will be soaked.   I plunk to my bottom and slide down the bank to the base of some trees and I give them a good shove to test if they are secure. The stream is running swiftly and it is undermining the banks. It is a pretty place.

Upham Brook Falls, 110 First Plymouth Road, Woodstock, New Brunswick

I love the falls, but photos of deer beside them would have been excellent; Maybe next time  With my hike complete and the day running out, I head back on the highway for home.  I know I will be back, because it is on the way to so many wonderful places in my province. Until next time, happy travels from Maritime Mac.

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Irving Nature Park- Saint John, NB

Finally, a sunny day.   I made a snap decision to go for a hike. I haven’t been to the Irving Nature Park since My Quest for the Forbidden in Saint John, Late last spring I had followed the seal trail in hopes of seeing them on the rocks. I had a long, tiring hike and came away with only photos of black-capped chickadees and some gulls. With my camera roped around my neck,  I head up the path. …

We sprint down the hall of the hotel, our wheeled bags flipping over as we ricochet around the corners. Moments earlier, we had gotten the message, “The ride to the airport is leaving now,”  and we didn’t get to say good bye to our tour friends. We rush from the cab through the terminal, through security, through the gate.

Once on board the flight, I finally take a breath. I shift into the window seat and before long, I feel the weighty lift-off and the familiar clunk of the wheels folding up into the undercarriage of the plane. Nairobi’s national park fades into a distant patch of green. With a five-hour flight to Cairo, my emotions start to creep in: The sadness of no more morning game drives, and the thrill of I am going to see the pyramids! The in-flight director has us somewhere over the Sahara; glancing out the window all I see is sand. Waves and ripples of endless sand.

We exit the plane around 11:15 am Cairo time, an hour behind Nairobi.  We head directly to the Air Egypt check-in window to secure out boarding pass for the next leg of our journey. “Your flight back to Toronto leaves at 1:50 am. Be sure to be at your gate no later than 11 pm. Security line ups are long and thorough.” Then he adds “We offer complimentary day rooms to rest and freshen up.”   We decline the room and say we want to go to the pyramids and look around the city.

He says,  “If you want to leave the airport you will need to get an Egyptian Visa, it is $50 Egyptian pounds. We don’t take any other currency.” He points while talking. ” Take this hallway all the way to the end,  Make a left at the centre, past the escalators – the exchange windows are lined along the outside walls on left and right.”

Monique and I fast-walk to pull ahead of a group of people also looking for the exchange windows.  A few minutes ago the terminal was very crowded and confusing, now it has dwindled down to just a few stragglers.  We find an exchange window but it is closed.

“Damn.”  Just down the hall is a florescent dollar sign. We follow it to more exchange windows, but they too are all closed.

“What is going on?”  Monique asks  in frustration. ” I have no idea,” I reply, anxious and concerned about our precious time in Cairo ticking away.

“Why aren’t they open?” I say aloud to no one particular.  Seated on a bench is a man. He is lounged back with his legs stretched out, his feet crossed and his chin resting on his chest. He has several days’ growth of beard, and a wrinkled pair of dress pants he has obviously been wearing for a while.  He doesn’t open his eyes or lift his head. but says  “They are closed for prayers. They will be back in about forty minutes.”

I move a little closer to him, hoping I can coax a bit more wisdom from the napping man. Sensin my presence, he opens an eye and looks me over.  He speaks again, “I do business in Egypt and they do things at their own pace here. Do be patient.”  His eye closes and I am dismissed.

We take his advice and to go back to the duty free shop in the centre which has, surprisingly, remained open.  It is filled with high-end products: Godiva chocolates, Louis Vuitton wallets, not to mention many pricey spirits. We find this odd considering there is no drinking allowed here.

“All that oil money, I guess,”  Monique chuckles, and we keep walking the aisles.

In half an hour we hustle back to get in the lineup at the exchange booth.  Our man unlocks the booth and asks “What you need?”  I have been the mental money exchanger on this trip.  Monique gives me a blank stare and I give her one back. I haven’t brushed up on Egyptian currency rates. I stuff my remaining Kenyan shilling, Euros and and a couple of US dollars through the window toward him. He does some math on a sheet and counts back to me a comparable amount in Egyptian dollars. Yeah right I think, but say “Good enough for me, Thank you.”  Monique follows suit. It’s back to the airline booth to purchase our visa and get a stamp in our passports.

Sample of  the currency, a fifty and a twenty front and back- Egyptian pounds

At the main exit, I ask the concierge, “Excuse me sir, where can we find a tour company that will take us to the pyramids?”  He points us to a travel office.  A balding, dark-featured man with a white shirt and blue tie greets us and invites us to take a seat. He whips out a book and presents us with various tours about the city.  “We want to see the pyramids, perhaps get a look at the Nile river, and if there’s time, the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities.”

He checks his watch – it is already after 1 pm. He says “It will take you over an hour to get to the pyramids, then two hours around the complex.” He pauses. “Then another hour or more to get back depending on rush-hour traffic. The museum  closes at 4:30. You wouldn’t have time to see both.”  We cross the museum off our list. That narrows our choices down to a tour of the city, including the pyramids, an artist’s shop, and a stop at a kebab shop for a meal included in the price. ” Sold.” We hand over the cash and we are escorted out the doors into the parking lot to meet our cab driver/ tour guide. He was introduced to us but forgive me, I can’t  say it and I sure can’t spell it.  From here on in we are addressed as Kelly-Mo.

He stashes our bags in the trunk and with the briefest of looks over his shoulder we  merge into the chaos of traffic, zinging in and out of lanes, tooting horns, and series of strongly applied brakes that throw us forward in several near collisions. Many of the cars have dents and scrapes. “Tough place to buy car insurance I guess?”  Our driver laughs.

Somewhere along the route we pick up a man who sits in the front passenger seat and for the next twenty minutes the two of them have a conversation in Arabic. Monique and I look at each other thinking the same thing; Who is this frigging guy? The uneasy feeling we had in the cab during our drive through Kibera hovers close to the surface. We stay alert. Please read What Kenya Did To Me,- Kibera Part 1.

It is a slow drive. The traffic remains bumper-to-bumper. Our front seat passenger opens his door and jumps out at a street corner, not even waiting for the car to stop. At this point our driver remembers we are in the back and starts to tell us about how the tourists have not returned since the revolt. “It is lean times, Kelly-mo,” is his way of saying he picked up an extra fare on our paid tour.

The place to dump your garbage appears to be anywhere along the road.  I expected Nairobi to be trashed and filthy, but not Cairo. Somehow I expected a more cosmopolitan city. I was sadly disappointed.  I take pictures out the window. (I forgot to change my ISOs from the evening before, sorry for the over exposure.)

Trash-filled streets Cairo

Street litter Cairo

Most of the buildings are made of cement. Re-bar juts out of the masonry structures. I can’t figure out whether they are unfinished or partially demolished.

Building looks bombed out – or falling apart. Cairo

We close in on Giza and the tops of the pyramids come into view.  They are basically in the middle of the city – I had imagined them being far out on the edge of the desert. I have been reading too many dated references about this place.

First view of the pyramids through car window.

Mr. Driver parks the car at the curb and walks us to the ticket booth, but stops short and starts to talk.  He regales us with the history of Egypt from the beginning. He speaks of Pharaoh Khufu and the family dynasty.  The quarry in Aswan where the building materials came from. Theories and hypotheses of how they were built, and on and on.

He is a very passionate man, accentuating his words and flailing his hands like he wants to choke someone. The veins in his neck start to show. Such a change from the placid nature of the Kenyans we’d been spending time with. He speaks to us for nearly ten minutes, and when he finally pauses for a breath,  I stop him.   “Mr…. we would like to see them before the place closes.”

“OK, OK,  Kelly-Mo, you tourists all the same, you just want to see the pyramids.”  I appease him somewhat by saying, “I did enjoy ancient history in high school.”

We get the tickets and enter the gate.  He says we should get a camel ride or a horse and carriage to take us around.  We decline. He mumbles, “You don’t want to spend any money in my country.” I think he was just mad we actually wanted  him to guide us around and he can’t go get more fares.  We walk to the base of the great pyramid of Giza, also known as Khufu’s Pyramid, and look up. Each block is enormous and upper ones appear ready to tumble down.  He takes photos of us posing, then we climb up a few levels.

All around us tourists cling to the sides of the chiseled blocks, jumping from one to the the other, making their way across and upward. I am extremely glad we have this opportunity, but I am also surprised. So many ancient monuments are closed off or have limited access. Stonehenge allows visitors only to walk the path circling the stones, and Macchu Picchu has limited the number of daily visitors.

Monique on left me on the right standing at the Great Pyramid of Giza, Egypt

We head into the Necropolis, a roofless stone building with worn, undulating floors, where the dead were kept and prepared for burial. I feel quite privileged to walk the area of the wabet, where the ancient Egyptian embalmers performed their sacred rituals on the pharaohs three millennia ago.

A solid building. The blocks are so tightly fitted together is truly is a wonder how it was built.  Mr. Guide gives us some gory details: “They had a hook they would use to pull the brain out of the skull cavity through the nose” – apparently an important part of preserving of the bodies. Square pockets in the floor were where the dried bodies were positioned. “The priest required 70 days to complete the mummification process.”

Bodies were prepared in these pockets on the floor

Mr. Driver brings the car around for us.  There is a road to the top and a look-off.  We stand on the retaining wall and take fun photos as if touching the top of the pyramids,

  Khafre’s Pyramid appears larger due to higher elevation and The great pyramid (Khufu’s pyramid) back

There is a 360-degree view of the three pyramids, the city beyond and outward to the desert.

The three pyramids

The smallest of the three is the Pyramid of Mycerinus. The cemetery at the back of the pyramid is for the queens and daughters of the pharaoh.

Smallest of the pyramids Mycerinus and queens and daughters of Khufu buried behind

Aligned at the back are shopkeepers peddling their keychains, hats, with “Cairo” and miniature heads of the Sphinx.  Horse and buggies ply the roadway bring tourists to the top for a view.

  Camels  are available too. Many of them standing, some resting with their legs folded under them, and one that is laid flat, reminiscent of this line from The Alchemist: 

“Tomorrow, sell our camels and buy a horse. Camels are traitorous: they walk thousand of paces and never seem to tire. Then suddenly, they kneel and die. But horses tire bit by bit. You always know how much you can ask of them, and when it is that they are about to die?”- Paulo Coelho

Our grand finale is the Sphinx.  Our driver leaves us to explore it ourselves. We take pictures of each other and something bizarre starts to happen.

  Young men keep coming up and asking Monique if she will pose with them for a photos.  Then it starts happening to me. At first it is flattering, then it gets ridiculous.  Men just walk up, show us their cameras and point at one or both us. We start to wonder if we are dressed inappropriately.  We both have long pants and short sleeve shirts on but we didn’t read anything about needing head covers.  Monique thinks it must be her blonde hair, I think it is because we have no chaperone. Whatever it is, it is time to move on before we get accosted. We find our driver and tell him we are ready to leave.

Tourists surround the Sphinx.

We drive around the city. Many of the building are two to five storeys. Most look unfinished. Few have glass windows; many have blankets covering the entrances. Laundry hangs from railings and is strewn across what ever it can be hung from.

We drive by the Nile and the bridge over it, but traffic is too bad to get a decent photo. We stop at the kebab shop and our driver leaves us in the car while he goes to get us our meal.  We order falafels and watch the action on the street.

  My falafel is excellent. We head to a shop owned by famous local artist Abo Youseef.  He serves us tea and tells us how he starts by taking papyrus reeds that grow along the Nile, and, staying true to the traditional methods, he creates a form of paper which he uses as his base to paint traditional Egyptian-themed art.

I am a minimalist and usually only take home photos, but art is my weakness and I name my price on a piece I admire and he accepts it. He wraps it up in a cylinder stamped with his trademark, his name and print number visible for customs. (I have not removed it from its packaging yet.)

Nefertem He was the god of the flower of eternity…. and “Hathours- Her name means ” the house of Horus” She is one of the famous Egyptian goddess…”

Abo Yousef print.

It is a long drive back to the airport. Mr. Driver shows us this neighborhood and that neighborhood, they all just look decrepit and crumbling. Satisfied we have seen enough, we ask him to take us back to the airport. We give him a generous tip and send him off just past 8 pm. Three sets of security checkpoints and a hour and a half later, we get to our gate. We are both physically drained from our punishing pace of the day. We could have taken the hotel room and not gone, but I leave you with one more line from The Alchemist that sums it up:

“He heard a voice on the wind say. “If I had told you, you wouldn’t have seen the pyramids. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

Happy travels from  from Maritime Mac.

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