Nova Scotia is one of those places that reminds you to breathe.
This morning we woke to a view of the Atlantic and seagulls looking for breakfast. No rush. We left Yarmouth on the west coast of Nova Scotia and moseyed on down to the south coast. We started out like our days in Ireland — slow driving, exploring all the little coastal towns and peninsulas. Evergreen islands and wild flowers.
We spent the most time on the Pubnico peninsula, where we learned about Acadian history.
Acadians were the French settlers who got booted out by the insurgent English back in the 18th c. when they wouldn’t take the Pledge of Allegiance to the Queen. A lot went to east coast U.S. but many more were welcomed to Louisianna, where (of course) “Acadia” morphed into “Cajun.” Then they started creeping back home and resettling their old family haunts — like Pubnico — where they are trying to preserve their family histories and their New World version of French.
About 2 o’clock we realized we weren’t making much progress, so from The Hawk point (southernmost point in Canada), we hightailed it up to Highway 103 and sped east to Lunenburg, where we will spend the next four nights.