Saint John, New Brunswick to Porters Peak, Nova Scotia
I left off with the first half of our walking tour in Saint John. We finished that before dinner — an old bandstand, a historic commericial block and the King’s Square park that led us to Billy’s Seafood, where we had a really nice meal — seafood chowder for me and Scott and a feta salad with scallops for Friederike.
We capped it off with drinks and discussion in our room at Chipman Hill Suites.
On Tuesday morning, we had a great diner breakfast at Tops and got on the road to Halifax.
We had several hours to drive to our next stop, Porters Peak, a glamping spot outside of Halifax. Since we were driving by the city, we decided to have early dinner on the water there. Halifax is a real city for sure. We hadn’t done too much research and expected something smaller. But there it was — rush hour and all. We wound our way through and found the vacation-like part on the wharf. We also found a dozen oysters, cold beer and some “linner” — Friederike and I split lobster poutine and Scott had a more sensible seafood stew.
Our resting place for the next two nights was Porters Peak, a two-year-old wilderness retreat. We had secured a “chalet,” a structure without electricity or running water, but which did afford us somewhere to sleep without putting up a tent or bringing bedding, etc. It was really cool — well it was actually kind of hot, but I digress. I also loved the little touches the owners sprinkled around the place — cheeky signs, beautiful coffee mugs, local yummy coffee and a French press to make it with on the grill.
We took a quick peek at the lake, which was right by our site. There were lily pads and frogs-a-plenty. Many of them sounded like rubber bands being twanged. Friederike had her binoculars and a knowledge of birds. She identified some night hawks and a bunch of others. I wish I could remember the list.
We made a fire — with wood provided by our hosts — and relaxed. We were supposed to be completely off the grid, though we did have one bar of cell service. I pretended I didn’t.
We learned later that the fire we’d made (both nights) was a no-no. All of Nova Scotia is on a no-burn rule right now. We honestly didn’t know. Fortunately, our fire remained contained.
The next morning, we made breakfast on the grill and took a long walk around the campground, checking it all out. Our instructions to get to our chalet the night before told us to go up to “the peak” and continue by “the plane” and the “games area.” There was indeed a very high peak — thank goodness we had four-wheel drive for the long gravel road — and a plane. It was not a misspelling. Not sure how the plane got there or if everyone was okay. I was disappointed in the “giant Jenga” game they promised. It was only a couple feet tall. Why was I envisioning people-sized bricks? That surely would have been dangerous. Oh well.
We scoped out the lake area for a potential swim later in the day. The temperature had climbed during our walk. It would end up in the 90s — totally unseasonable for this part of Canada, especially at the high altitude of our site, our accommodations being a peak. Scott and I went down the hill for dinner provisions and then we settled into an afternoon at the cooling lake.
Daisy seemed okay with the water. I dumped some on her and then put her in and she swam a little. I went to the site to get her little life jacket. She did NOT enjoy swimming in that. Scott took her for a ride on the paddle board though. Like the rest of us, she was pretty hot.
We had dinner at the campsite. We grilled a frozen mushroom flatbread and followed it with chili dogs — avec Tim Hortons canned chili. It seems there are Tim Hortons on every block in every part of Canada we’ve been in, so that seemed appropos. While we were cooking and eating, I pulled out my ukelele and we sang camp songs. While in Saint John, searching for some kind of pdf songbook I could download (as I thought we’d have no service), I had come across a uke book from the Halifax scouts. What a coincidence. Camp songs are apparently pretty universal. Not only did I remember them from my time as a U.S, Girl Scout; Friederike sang their German counterparts. (Likely they started there and we translated them.)
As the sun set, Friederike went on a few short bird watches by the lake and I read by the fire, choosing the additional heat over the bugs. Scott and Dasiy crashed super early. It had been a very sunny day and VERY warm for Canada! In the end, we left the door to our little chalet open.
