by Lil Cromer
We toured Grand Pre, the site of a monument dedicated to the Acadians (French) who settled there in the 17th century. In 1755 the government deported 6000 of them. They were ordered to leave everything behind, except their personal belongings, which was forfeited to the British Crown. A large statue of Evangeline stands on the site as a tribute to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who penned his famous poem Evangeline, in memory of the deportation. Some of the Acadians wound up in Louisiana and today are called Cajuns.
Halifax is the largest city and the capital where one million people live. It has the second largest natural harbor in the world behind Sydney, Australia. The province is famous for lighthouses, beaches, apple orchards and wines. I did sample a glass of local red wine, but decided I much prefer the Canadian lagers. We visited a local cemetery where 150 bodies are buried that died in the Titanic disaster. Halifax sent three of her ships to recover those lost in the tragedy. Many of the headstones read, “Unknown” and one in particular “Unknown Child” was dedicated to all the children lost and never recovered. Sitting atop this grave were baby shoes, teddy bears and flowers.
All the hotels on this tour were first rate and the Lord Nelson in Halifax was no exception. The concierge recommended a pub around the corner called Your Father’s Moustache, which was one of the highlights of the trip for me. The extremely friendly locals couldn’t do enough for us. Happy hour included half price appetizers, discounted drinks and one night a whole lobster dinner was $20.00 and the next night all the steaks were buy one get one. This place certainly dispelled the myth that food and drink are expensive in Canada.
One rainy day we visited Peggy’s Cove, which is not really a town but a fishing village on St. Margaret’s Bay, named after Margaret, the sole survivor of a schooner that sank off its shores in the early 1800s. Many artists and photographers flock to Peggy’s Cove. As roads improved, the number of tourists increased. Today this picturesque place remains an active fishing village and a favorite tourist destination.
There’s a saying in Nova Scotia, “If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.” Inclement weather was rare during the two weeks and we were awed by the fall colors all along the 2200 mile journey. The views of both the Bay of Fundy with the largest tides in the world (55 feet) and the coastline along the Atlantic Ocean offered outstanding photo ops.
From Halifax we traveled northeast to Baddeck, on Cape Breton Island and home of the Alexander Graham Bell museum which sits on twenty-five beautifully landscaped acres. Bell worked here for thirty-five years along with his wife Mabel who possessed the money and the organizational skills. After he invented the telephone he went to work on a variety of scientific activities involving kites, airplanes, tetrahedral structures, sheep-breeding, artificial respiration, desalinization, water distillation, and hydrofoils. This anecdote sums up what kind of man Bell was. He asked one of his employees, who had eight kids, if he owned a house. The man said he didn’t as he couldn’t afford one. Bell instructed the man to build himself a house and Bell would take care of the payments for him. The next Christmas in the man’s bonus envelope was a paid up deed to the house.
Our hotel for the two nights in Baddeck was a delightful country inn called Giselle’s, owned and operated by Helen who could have been a drill sergeant in her other life. You could literally eat off the floors of our rooms. The meals in the two tiered dining room were served with military precision. It’s here, while walking to my assigned seating, that I met some gregarious folks on a different bus tour. Most of them were from New Orleans and out to have a good time. One outgoing woman, Sherry, was traveling with her mom and two sisters. The second night Sherry performed for her fellow travelers in the banquet room; I was honored to receive an invitation to come listen. This woman was not only an accomplished pianist but an excellent torch singer. Later I learned that she lost everything in Hurricane Katrina, yet here she was smiling, laughing and taking great delight in entertaining others.
One day we drove the Cabot Trail – a scenic tour through Cape Breton Highlands. The trail reminded me of the Ring of Kerry in Ireland with its jagged peaks rising straight up out of the sea. We stopped for a picnic lunch amid the beauty of Cape Breton Highlands National Park.
We boarded a ferry in Pictou, the spot where the first Scottish settlers landed in 1773, for the ninety minute ride to Prince Edward Island.
Prince Edward Island, the smallest province, is 121 miles by 38 miles; the highest point is 500 feet above sea level. Charlottetown, the capital, with a population of 35K is a delightful walking town. It was named after Queen Charlotte wife of George III and originally settled by the French but was given to the Brits in 1763 via the Treaty of Paris. The island consists of three counties, King, Queen and Prince and is populated by Scottish, Irish, English and French.
PEI is a gentle island, you and the elements, it’s non tech, laid back, casual and relaxed. It’s also known for its excellent shellfish which went well with their local lager. Though tourism and fishing is important to the economy, much of the island is carpeted with beautiful farms. This tiny province produces most of Canada’s potatoes and is sometimes referred to as “Spud Island.”
The island is noted for its sandstone cliffs, blossoming gardens and wide beaches. We visited Cavendish Beach where Lucy Maud Montgomery penned part of her Anne of Green Gables stories in 1908. If you mention PEI to most people they immediately say, “Anne of Green Gables.” I’m ashamed to admit that my education growing up was woefully inadequate in that I never read Anne of Green Gables. Before embarking on this tour, I read the book and watched the three DVDs. When you’re there, you almost have the feeling that Anne Shirley, the feisty, gregarious, adventurous orphan, was a real person rather than a figment of Montgomery’s imagination. The day we visited the museum and took a carriage ride around the property, admiring the beautiful 110 acres, was a highlight for many of us. The Stewart family have owned the place since 1776; a brother and sister run the place today to the delight of busloads of tourists, many from Asia who choose the site for their weddings. The tour director played the movie on the bus after we left the island; not only were the females engrossed but the males were as well; tears flowed freely. It was evident that I was not the only one who was unfamiliar with Anne of Green Gables.
While walking down the street in Charlottetown one afternoon I came across three boys sitting on a bench, the oldest was selling chocolate bars. Next to him sat a little five year old redhead with crocodile tears streaming down his face. I stopped and asked what was wrong. He pointed to the third boy, a fat, smug nine year old and sobbingly said, “He hit me,” pointing to the fat kid. I had a few potent words for the bully then asked the redhead if he wanted a chocolate bar; he nodded his head yes but said he didn’t have any money. I told him to pick out a bar and I’d pay for it. Then I turned to the bully and said, “If you weren’t such a nasty boy, I would have bought you a chocolate bar too.” With that I walked away. At the corner I turned back to see the bully with his head down crying his eyes out.
Confederate Bridge, which opened in 1997, links PEI with New Brunswick and is the longest bridge over water that freezes. It took twelve minutes to traverse this beautiful span which brought us off the island and over to New Brunswick.
New Brunswick is the largest of the Maritime Provinces, the capital is Fredricton. 85% of the province is covered with forest and also has some of the highest tides in the world.
We traveled to St. John, the second largest city in the Maritimes behind Halifax. St. John boasts the famous “reversing falls,” where strong Bay of Fundy tides rise higher than the Saint John River. St. John is home to the Moosehead brewery, so naturally I had to sample the quality— it was excellent. This brewery, established in 1867, is Canada’s only nationally distributed independent brewery.
This hilly city underwent urban renewal in the early 80s and is now a large artistic community and home to Louis B. Mayer, Donald Sutherland, and Walter Pidgeon.
St. Andrews-by-t
he-Sea, a historical district, is a pretty resort town that exudes colonial charm. Its English-American heritage is reflected in the historic buildings on almost every street; 100 homes are over 200 years old. We were provided with a map listing all these buildings and could, at our leisure, walk the little town and see each place. The town was laid out into sixty perfect square blocks separated by wide tree-lined streets. The business district is a whole three blocks long peppered with unique shops. Right in the center sits the Red Herring Pub, owned by a personable Irishman named Kevin. I had such a good time here, as did a dozen or so of my fellow travelers, that I wrote a review on Trip Advisor. When I told Kevin I was having trouble finding local pubs, he went online and printed out the pubs in Bar Harbor, our next stop. Our tour guide was more interested in directing us to candy shops and bakeries than to the pubs whenever the bus stopped. To the point that I stopped asking him and just asked the locals when I disembarked. How else are you going to meet the locals? Certainly not in shops and restaurants where the tourists go?
Wealthy Bostonians and New Yorkers used to stay at the gabled Algonquin Hotel, a summer playground, and that’s where we stayed. The hotel was undergoing a major renovation and will be under the Marriott flag when finished. My suite was in the renovated section complete with a kitchen. The comfortable bed was higher than average but the commode was lower than average; never did figure out why.
Bar Harbor population 5,235 is a popular tourist destination. The city sits on Mount Desert Island and is the birthplace of Vice-president Nelson Rockefeller. The same year I was born, 1947, the state of Maine experienced a severe drought, not that I had anything to do with it. Sparks at a cranberry bog ignited a wildfire that intensified for ten days and burned for a month. Half of the eastern side of Mount Desert Island burned, including sixty-seven palatial summer houses, five historic hotels and 170 permanent homes. The town’s business district was spared but over 10,000 acres of Acadia National Park were destroyed. We took a twenty-six mile bus ride through the Acadia National Park and what a beauty. The panoramic view from the top of Cadillac Mountain provided another outstanding photo op. Artists have been drawing and painting the sunset-splattered pink granite and lichens for years. This park is the only one east of the Mississippi with rocks. You’ll find miles of carriage roads in the park originally built by John D. Rockefeller, Jr. and now maintained by the park. No motor vehicles are allowed on these roads.
Our farewell dinner at the Bar Harbor Inn was a true taste of New England with a whole steamed lobster on the menu. I provided a little humor giving a gift of New Brunswick toilet paper that read, “It’s rough, it’s tough and it doesn’t take crap from anybody,” to the traveler who correctly answered a trivia question. I presented a hat made of white underpants to our bald tour director which he promptly put on. Joanie, a fellow single traveler and self-proclaimed cougar, was part of the entertainment when she sang, “You’ll Never Know,” ala Rosemary Clooney. Jim and Gail, a special couple from Minnesota, gave me a T-shirt with a cocktail glass and Bar Harbor on it that read, “Women who behave rarely make history,” along with a sincere and thoughtful thank you card. A couple of retired schools teachers from NJ gave me a sign that read, “I’m sorry! Was it my job to fill your life with joy today?”
A couple of inspirational fellow travelers: A single eighty-eight year old female and frequent traveler from California who is still using a 35 mm camera; an eighty-five year old female from Idaho who just wrote and published an action novel about the aftermath of nuclear fallout. Several of the folks were going back home to the shores of NJ, NY and DE right before Hurricane Sandy hit the coast. Sure hope they didn’t sustain too much damage.
Chapter 13
Mexico
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Once a year go someplace you’ve never been before
My excursions down into Mexico total five: two by car, one by cruise ship and two by bus. The first one was in the 70s when driving into the country was safe. Hal and I drove down to Tijuana several times while spending winters in San Diego. All I can remember is chaos and poverty.
Can’t believe I let my sisters talk me into a trip to San Diego with a bus trip to Ensenada, Mexico while Hal and I were in San Diego. What a fiasco! They invited mother, so there were six of us. This bus trip, a day trip, was organized by the Navy base personnel. I was sure the fam damily would embarrass me, they didn’t disappoint. One sister insisted on buying a marble chess set immediately after we got off the bus rather than heeding my advice to wait until on the way back from touring the city. Well you can predict the outcome; she bitched and moaned the rest of the day about how heavy the chess set was. On the bus ride the sisters engaged in a loud argument, I wanted to crawl under my seat.
Ensenada is called the Cinderella of the Pacific and is one of the easiest and safest cities to visit on a budget.
During this same trip, but back in San Diego, mom requested a trip to the military cemetery called Ft. Rosencrans at Point Loma on Coronado Island. So, the six of us drove out there to look for my mom’s brother’s grave. What a gorgeous view! After we located the grave site, Hal took us to the Officer’s Club for brunch before we drove them to the airport.
Fam Damily outside Officer’s Club-San Diego
The trip to the Mexican Riviera on the Princess Cruise Line is covered in the chapter on cruising.
For some reason, Hal decided, back in the mid 80s, to find a place in McAllen, TX to rent for six months — I’m still trying to figure out why. We were able to locate a clean little duplex; the landlords lived next door. This couple, retired funeral directors from Illinois, Parke and Mary, couldn’t have been more accommodating. They were in their mid 70s but looked more like mid 50s. When I complimented them, Mary said, it must be all those years of working with formaldehyde. They told an interesting story of a poor young country boy who weighed 800 lbs. When he died no one would or could bury him. So our landlords did so using a piano crate and did it pro bono
McAllen, right on the border, was a popular place for folks from the Midwest to escape the harsh winters. Many traveled in RVs and enjoyed dancing and partying. One day in the downtown shopping area, I couldn’t find one person who spoke English; I thought I was in Mexico. Across the border was the town of Reynosa where we drove for dinner and shopping. We also took conversational Spanish at the local high school in McAllen and many times our teacher would take the class over the border for lunch to practice our Spanish.
Probably the most interesting visit to Mexico was when we took a bus trip down to Mexico City, a smoggy city to say the least. This was pre-journal so the route is blurry. I remember stopping at an old church which was used as a pilgrimage. This was the first time I witnessed believers walking on their knees. Taxco, the silver mining capital of the area, had not only silver mines but plenty of silver jewelry for sale. Another town, Guanajuato, located in a picturesque valley which makes its streets narrow and winding. But the most memorable part of this bus trip was the dinner served to us in a classy hotel in Mexico City on Valentine’s night. Elegant is the only way to describe the dining room and the service. Strolling violinists playing romantic music topped off the experience. When we paid the bill I couldn’t believe it. Because of the devalued peso, the tab for a scrumptious dinner with plenty of drinks totaled $14.00 US.
When I talk to friends about Mexico they’d comment on what a horrible country Mexico is after only visiting Tijuana. I pointed out that’s like a person coming from Europe for the first time and only visiting Gary, IN, then proclaiming America the worst country ever.
Chapter 14
Eastern Europe
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To awaken alone in a strange country is one of the most pleasant sensations in the world.
It’s always a good thing to go back to our roots. Had my maternal grandfather not been an adventuresome sort and immigrated to the US from Poland at the age of nineteen, I might be a peasant farmer today picking potatoes.
Our first stop on this adve
nture was Berlin, which is loaded with history. No other city better illustrates the upheaval of 20th century Europe than Berlin. For thirty years it was two separate cities. During the war Berlin was bombed 370 times. Then, in 1989, Berlin changed overnight. The wall has all but vanished and Checkpoint Charlie is now a museum. Reunified, the city is an exciting, restless place, reinventing itself at a fast pace; it’s currently in the middle of a five year subway project. They saved the green spaces and everywhere you see folks walking and riding bikes. There are more hotels in Berlin than in NYC. One near the Brandenburg Gate, the Hotel Adlon, is the most expensive and is where Michael Jackson dangled his baby over the balcony several years ago.
It was a thrill walking along what is left of the Berlin Wall, which was built in 1961 and torn down in 1989, and through the well-patched Brandenburg Gate. I could almost hear President Reagan saying, “Tear down this wall, Mr. Gorbachev!” The Wall is decorated with murals, some sections making political statements and some just whimsical.
At the Berlin Wall
A huge Turkish population exists in Berlin; the guide commented that these immigrants will not assimilate. He blamed the government for not spending more money on education of the young Turks early on.
Martin Luther, one of the most influential Germans, defied the Catholic Church and forever divided its congregation. Religious breakdown: 20% Protestant, 25% Muslim, 10% Catholic and the majority atheists.
Along with excellent beer, I had my very first tuna pizza in Berlin and found it quite tasty.
We traveled by train to Warsaw, a six hour journey, through beautiful countryside and farm land. The train station in Berlin is an imposing modern structure built of glass and steel, half the structure above ground and half underground.
Poland is the northernmost country in Central Europe with a coastline along the Baltic Sea. Nearly one third of Poland’s surface area represents natural attractions protected by law.