Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stands like harper hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
So begins “Evangeline, An Acadian Tale”, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, writing about the separated French Acadian young lovers, torn apart on their wedding day by British troops seizing French Acadia to turn it into New Scotland. The British scattered the Acadians (the original settlers from 1604 for much of the Maritime provinces and Maine), and displaced them by forcibly removing and splitting families, sending them to the winds – Europe, New England, and to the west.. Evangeline, separated from her husband-to-be, wandered New England for the rest of her life, finding her fiancée on this death bed in her old age.
The French and the British have been settling, fighting, and moving each other on these shores for most of the 17th and 18th centuries and gradually the “displaced” drift back – today large parts of the English speaking provinces still proudly display their Acadian heritage and flag, and speak a dialect of French. Even on PEI we found more French radio stations than English, and the Cape Bretons islanders are definitely of Acadian descent – albeit with interesting mixes. From the moment we crossed the man-made causeway onto what used to be Cape Breton Island (see pics), it looked like little Scotland – with every name, road and store being “Mac” something… The causeway, by the way, is 10 million tons of the mountain nearby shifted down into the sea to form today’s roadway – the pictures show both clearly.
So we motored along, drinking in (figuratively) the Celtic flavors of Inverness, Ingonish, and other towns, roads and shoppes of New Scotland, until suddenly we crossed into the Acadian territory – then the roads were marked Chemin McDougal, Rue McDonald, and there were other inescapable signs of Acadian-Scots.
But how did we get here….. leaving Cavendish National Park on PEI we stopped at the little village of St Peter’s by the sea, where in 1607 French settlers put up their first cabins (pics) and begin hauling in the cod. Some 150 years later, the new emplaced Scottish Catholic pastor found the people, including his 200 Scottish immigrants living in dire poverty. He banded them together, started building a white wooden church (pics) that is still active and beautiful, and then built the rugged, sandstone block Farmer’s Bank (picture)– the first Credit Union in North America, and “mutuality” helped life to improve.
We went further east, to a lovely provincial campground at RedPoint, had a great barbecued meal, quiet evening and the next morning stopped at the nearby Singing Sands – listened to our feel make the sand sing (squeak is more like it!), then called in at the East Point lighthouse (1783?) – (picture). And then headed back south to catch the Wood Island Ferry to New Scotland Province (pics at Ferry and on-board).
The trip back across the Confederation Bridge would have been a $70 toll (you pay only getting off the island), and it would have added 200 miles to the journey, so a $92 ferry-ride seemed like a good buy and we came out ahead taking gas into account (about $5.25/gallon here), and saved about 4 hours in the process. We debarked in Pictou, where the “Hector” (a ship, now present as a replica) had brought 250 Scottish indentured laborers in about 1730 for the Philadelphia Company to form the settlement required by the company’s land grant from the King. They could not find Philly residents willing to relocate (?!), so they sent some oily-tongued recruiters off to cold and poor Scotland with tales of wonder – just like today’s real estate men I guess!
Back to NS, proper, we over-nighted near St George’s point, nice campground right by the sea, and then headed off after a good sleep-in yesterday morning.
After crossing the causeway, and heading into Scot and then Acadian territory, we came to Glenmore, the only single malt whiskey distillery in Canada, started in 1997 and selling their first product in 2007 (10 year aged whiskey). We did not do the tour or sample the product ($80/bottle for the 10 year; $150 for the 15 year-old “reserve” – OK, 14 year old!). But, they did have a great restaurant and live Celtic fiddle/piano music – so I had Cod Cakes and a great Schooner Ale (pic) from Halifax and Liz a spinach salad with extras.
We wandered up the coast, mailing a book about a moose to Julia (Scott/Leona’s daughter), and then entered Cape Breton Nat’l park, putting down the anchor at Cheticamp campgrounds, just across the river from Cheticamp village. The pretty little village (maybe 3000 people, had a nice church (1897?), 4 hair salons, one car wash/laundrette, a couple museums, 3 service stations, about 8 restaurants, and a french bakery). The camp is gorgeous grass and birch trees at the base of the 1000 foot beginnings of the highlands.
We chose the Acadian cooperative restaurant for dinner – (pictures) – where, I am not kidding, the best dish was the blood pudding (pork roast, shredded, cooked in blood and seasoned with Allspice and cloves). Scott Frank, look closely at the picture of the whipped butter container! There may be a territorial move possible for you!
Tonight will be more traditional lobster fare (#6 I think, for Liz – it was lobsta-roll #4 for lunch). After dinner we repaired to the Riverview (literally) Pub where we spent a couple of hours listening to more Celtic music. The building floor was shaking with all of the people (lots of locals) tapping their feet. With the help of the Internet and Skype we called Kim and Rich (in Mexico) and Kim got to hear a bit. The connection with Rich was not so good so we were reduced to texts, but he was enjoying beautiful weather and relaxing with his new Wife and step daughter.
This seems like a good time to explain that just before we left he called from Vancouver and said that he and Monika had decided to marry since there was no longer any immigration-related reasons standing in the way (his living in Canada again) and they would take their planned vacation in Baja, Mexico as honeymoon. They organized a dress, flowers, ceremony, etc. and he sent on a few pictures – Kim, you have these…. Can you add them to the blog??).
Monika and he will plan a later ceremony for families (hers in Poland; us in the US – where? We have no idea?). Domenika is Monika’s 12 year old daughter and Rich can enjoy learning how teens think! We only have been able to speak with them by phone last Christmas but they seem very nice and Rich has been happy and relaxed for the first time in years. Domenika, you have my permission as a step-grandfather to occasionally show Rich what teenage girls are like growing up… he did the teen boy thing for us!!! (But be good of course!)
Tomorrow will be a grand circuit of the Cabot Trail clear around the Cape Breton park – we are ready for moose, whales and seals – it will be an 8 hour trip so tomorrow’s edition will likely be delayed. As the road is very steep, VERY curvey, and there are 74 scenic view points, we are leaving the trailer here as a base camp and will return here – using much less gas, letting the Volvo ride more comfortably, and easing my driving tension considerably when Liz says, on a sharp curve, “Stop! Here! – I want to photograph that!.
Onward!
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