Chapter Three of Un Périple au Canada

20 July 2015 All signs point to a lifting of the clouds. However, don’t hold your breath. Conversation last evening at the dinner table: what are we going to do with George? G. and extended family own a fishing camp some 600 kms N/W of here. The twins arrive for a whole week with their grandmother My plans for the long trip home: S. & G. know a great deal of the features of NS, QP, & NB, so my simple itinerary is too feeble for their taste. Quiet night. Today, weather permitting, a road trip to some beautiful places. We drove to Peggy’s Cove via a string of other coves. Seems that some of them went undeveloped because they hadn’t caught the eyes of second homers, though they were popular with smugglers, pirates and whatnot. On the way, we passed by the Memorial site for the victims of the Swissair Flight 111 which crashed nearby on September 2, 1998, killing all 229 people on board. Many people come as pilgrims, family members, and tourists, to view the Memorial which is separate from the Cemetery where victims are buried. Peggy’s Cove, some 40 kms southwest of Halifax, is a small fishing village on the Chebucto Peninsula at the eastern point of St. Margaret’s Bay. It is surprisingly active as a tourist destination. There is a well-known Lighthouse, surrounded by a natural wall of great rocks seemingly strewn about aeons ago by giants. We climbed about them, trying to get a good view of waves breaking on the shore line with great dramatic effect. No luck: the tide was still out. At one point a young man offered to help me - one of the joys of aging, is the loss of stomach muscles which are very important when climbing steps, hills or moving about among huge boulders. A few pictures. On the way out we stopped by St. John’s Anglican Church, a Carpenter Gothic edifice, built in 1893-94 with a steep pitched roof, board and batten siding, lancet windows and noted for its mural paintings by local artist William deGarthe. The painting as would be expected in a fishing community, illustrate Matthew’s text Chp 14, vv.22-33, of Jesus walking on water and stilling the stormy waters. We met the present organist who just happened to come to open the Church. Though as the crow flies, the distance from my hosts’ house to Peggy’s Cove is not great, it’s the land distance that is telling, because of the interesting and, on a greyish foggy day, mysterious paths that circulate round about the many coves needing to be explored. No wonder smugglers had a predilection for this coastline - at least before drone surveillance… Some were named, d’Aubins Cove, Cranberry Cove, Middle Point Cove, Cliff Cove, Yankee Cove, pointing to a rich history of people, cultures, and industries.