Nova Scotia

Jun 25

I arrived at St Margaret’s Bay to fair weather on Tuesday evening.

Wild poodles roam the woods, looking for crows to bark at

or bounce around with Geoff, noted local poodle herder

who made the spécialité de la maison, what he calls Zulu Bannock (or buns a la bbq)

with amazing mussels, before

and after cooking.

And of course there was lobster.

And strawberries are in season, yippee! Here with Jan’s hand-crafted tea biscuit:

If I read tails correctly, this one’s saying Don’t bug me.

Then on to Lunenburg, where there are more mussels, hanging from the electricity poles along with a lot of other seafood:

And I noticed some crowds milling around the docks, with a boat in the distance

coming nearer

coming nearer

and packed to the gunwhales with students, returning after a semester on the high seas in a tall ship as part of the Class Afloat program.

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Newfoundland to Nova Scotia

Jun 24

Had a last supper in St John’s on Monday night from the Afghan Restaurant on Duckworth Street. A tiny place where granny literally cooks homestyle, on a home-sized stove in the back of a place that would be stretched to seat 12 people, the food is delicious. Not pretty, at least in my takeway, but the lamb was melt-in-your mouth, the rice excellently seasoned, and the naans stretchy and tasty.

And I confirmed that I was indeed experiencing a nouveau spring (after experiencing a record number of them this year: Victoria, London, Parma, Alicante, Saskatchewan and now Newfoundland) as the lilacs were just opening in St John`s.

Spent a last morning in The Rooms, which are big, but I didn’t feel they were terribly well laid out: everything a bit too chopped up with the art gallery divided between different floors. Still, some interesting things there, and some exciting sounding art to come in the galleries. I liked the Merchant Vessels functional pottery show, and in the museum there was a display of a couple of Innu caribou hide coats that blew my mind. Called pishakanakup, they were made of fine, thin hides: summer wear for caribou hunters, their designs intended to flatter their patrons, in colours intended to invoke caribou (the reds are to mimic caribou blood). According to the display only 30 such coats exist in Canadian museums.

In the seabird display, I was entranced by the story of the Razorbill, which is rare and the closest living relative of the now-extinct Great Auk. Apparently the chicks hatch and launch themselves into the ocean before they can fly, where they are tended by their fathers for the two months it takes them to fledge!

That wore me out and I went in search of food. The tomato soup with juniper berries was not good, but the salad was

and so was the view of the harbour (where I was standing the morning before is centre left at the harbour mouth).

Then it was goodbye Bond Street

hello Halifax cloudburst (right on our baggage as it was being unloaded!)

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Monday on Signal Hill

Jun 24

We had the best weather ever on Monday and after morning coffee, sensibly ascended the heights of Signal Hill

by taxi and had a wander round. Here’s how the city looked from up there:

We walked down to look at the Queen’s Battery Barracks

and though neither of us could see inside, my camera could.

Nice view of beyond.. looking out to Cape Spear, the easternmost point of North America.

After that, we walked down the hill, and parted ways. I pressed on down the hill to amuse myself at the Craft Council Gallery which had an excellent show on upstairs, and offered unbearable temptation in the shop. And after that, it was a perfect day for admiring colour in St John’s.

Saw some bleeding hearts.

And planned my visit to The Rooms for the following day. After which I could hardly walk because of all those hills, my knees complaining of their lost youth.

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Boreal poets

Jun 23

Sunday carried on being warm and sunny…


Even the birds get pretty houses on Signal Hill Road

and some more mailboxes.

The party bus was waiting and we all piled aboard

and had a photo op at Portugal Cove

before embarking on our Boreal Poetry tour led by Marlene Creates, who read poems in the places where they were composed

like this rock face

pointing out the wildflowers that inspired one poem.

Feels like another spring dawning for me. Fiddleheads and flowers…

A stream runs through it

we endured the blackflies – out in their fury – for the sake of poetry

and forest

and nautical knots in the rope handrails

And then we had a reading. In the garage, which was not entirely blackfly-free, but quite comfortable and atmospheric. Penn Kemp

Sharon Singer,

Susan McMaster,

Joe Blades, and then

Barbara Nickel

And then it was back on the bus, back to the hotel (where food service stops early) so we wrapped up with some pizza we ordered in at the bar.

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Newfoundland Sunday

Jun 22

The sun finally shone on St John’s today. We were unprepared for the sudden brightness and warmth! Here, at last, “the million dollar harbour view” (taken from the Dildo room – named as they all are after places in Newfoundland in the Battery Hotel… but who would request this room I wonder?)

We had Cod Au Gratin yesterday for lunch, featuring salt cod and surprisingly good despite appearances:

Last night’s banquet, Anne Szumigalski Lecture, book launch and prize-giving ceremony took place at the Fluvarium, where you can go eyeball to eyeball with brown trout.

Many poets milled…

The banquet’s highlights were the salad which had a good dressing and amazingly sweet cherry tomatoes

and the cheesecake, but the routine banquet choices of salmon or chicken were about what you might expect; the chicken was uninspired. How does one choose between industrially-reared chicken and farmed salmon anyway? Tough call.

Then Maurice Mierau

introduced the night’s star turn, Don McKay delivering a talk on geo-poetics.

Followed by prizes, book launch readings…

Afterwards there was music; the harpist, I was told, plays with the symphony. The squeezebox players were excellent.

It all sounded great but I had to scoot off early in order to catch my ride back. The rest was a blur….

There are some great mailboxes on Signal Hill Road.

Breakfast at Coffee Matters on Military Road (I’m afraid the fruit was awful – sour, unwholesome, nearly fermented and I suspect it was a pre-cut restaurant pack rather than a salad made in house. The yogurt wasn’t good either. The coffee was ok…)

Lunch from Sweet Relic, an absolutely four star foodie joint,

in the oldest building in the oldest city in North America;

just fabulous: spinach torte with goat cheese, and a sweet potato frittata with brie. In compostable packaging, no less.

Another day, another bed….

And tonight I’m going on a Boreal Poetry Garden walk.

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