Luggage and Lighthouses


The lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove

My last post saw my luggage following me Westward from London. I’m happy to say that my bag and all of the contents were delivered to our accommodation in Halifax. Why it got stuck in Gatwick for 4 days, we shall never know.

After being reunited with my belongings, we could really shift our focus to Halifax, the largest city in Atlantic Canada, located in the province of Nova Scotia. Like St. John’s, Halifax is a city steeped in history, and celebrates its place as an important port of the former British Empire.

We chose to rent an apartment in an area called Hydrostone, and are glad that we did. It’s about 10 minutes from downtown, but has loads of nice local restaurants and shops mixed with residential properties. With downtown in easy reach, we could still do touristy stuff but relax in a chilled out neighbourhood.

I think the most interesting Halifax attraction we have visited so far is the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, which has some artefacts from the Titanic. When the Titanic sunk in 1912, recovery ships were sent from Halifax to collect the dead from the sea – the sailors consequently found ornate internal pieces of the ship, even some of the passengers’ clothing. It was quite startling to come face to face which such a well known piece of history.

We’ve also had the opportunity to visit a nearby village called Peggy’s Cove, which is quite well known in Canada – and full of tour busses slowly making their way around the bendy streets. The lighthouse there is apparently one of the most photographed in Canada. Despite being tourist central, it’s a beautiful spot, with lobster traps on the docks and windswept rocks being continually bashed by the rough Atlantic ocean.



Lobster is everywhere in Nova Scotia – YUM!

On a more serious note, we are having trouble adapting to the fact that as pedestrians in St. Johns and Halifax, drivers in cars do not try and run us down every time we step into the street. In fact, they practically screech to halt to let us cross, even when we are no where near a crosswalk/zebra crossing. This is very hard to get used to after 14 years of living in the UK. British drivers will see a pedestrian and slam their foot on the gas. They never stop at junctions to check if there is anyone wishing to cross. I’ve lost count of the times a car in the UK has narrowly missed running my foot over only then to have the driver berate me for daring to cross a street. I suppose we will get used to this eventually. For now, I’m still exercising caution….




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