Back to the Mainland !

Tonight I'm sitting at the edge of Prince Edward Island contemplating my mornings ride across the longest bridge I have any been over. The Confederation Bridge joins the eastern Canadian provinces of Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick, making travel throughout the Maritimes easy and convenient. The curved, 12.9 kilometre (8 mile) long bridge is the longest in the world crossing ice-covered water, and more than a decade after its construction, it endures as one of Canada’s top engineering achievements of the 20th century. The cost on the motorcycles is just $18.25 or about £10; it works out somewhat cheaper per mile than the Severn bridge by a long long way, and like the Severn bridge you only pay one way.

It’s been quite a tough day today, even though I've only done about 450 km. The road has been mainly straight and flat, the scenery nothing to write home about, and all because a young couple at the camp site last night told me I must visit the North Cape because “It’s Awesome”… Well not in my book I'm afraid, I guess we just have a slightly different slant on things. Yes, it was interesting to see the 2 km reef which stretches out to sea from the far tip of PEI, but the whole atmosphere of the place was wrecked for me by the tacky gift shop/ restaurant and the gigantic wind turbines! So a bit of a wasted day

really but you can’t win them all. Oh and it’s topped off now by being in the most expensive and worst camp site so far which is just off the main highway and next to a factory which is emitting a continuous whine… no it’s not tinnitus from being on the bike to long… but as I said you can’t win them all.

The last couple of days by contrast have been spectacular! I completed the Cabot Trail after overnighting at a great littler cove at the mouth of a river near Louisburgh,  my second wild camp in a row. The whole day’s ride had been a

joy. With a ride up to the very top of Cape Breton Island to a tiny place called Meat Cove. Why Meat Cove rather than Meet Cove or Fish Cove I have no idea and even Wikipedia doesn't give any clues

Meat Cove

as to it’s origin. The road was part tarmac and part gravel with stunning views and lots of “interesting” bends to negotiate. Back tracking onto the Cabot Trail I stopped at Cabot Landing which is supposed to be the place John Cabot landed in discovering North America… and I always thought it was Christopher Columbus!  It was also the spot where the first transatlantic cable came ashore.

A little later I stopped for lunch and bumped into the same couple that I had met the previous day. I only wanted something light to ordered their Piccy Platter which seemed to fit the bil at $7.85. The plate arrived piled high with chicken fillets, hot wings, deep fried vegetables and cheese rolls. I was horrified… even more so when the bill arrived! Silly me it wasn't $7.85 it $17.85. Still at least over here they are quite happy to give you a container to take away what you can’t eat. So that was the next days breakfast and lunch sorted! That was me just about done with Cape Breton so I headed west and ended up at the ferry terminal for PEI. Not only was it free, it was just about to sail and meant that I got to ride the aforementioned huge bridge! So all in all a good few days.

Tomorrow I head north up to the St Lawrence Seaway before turning west along the very edge of the USA before dropping back down a bit to Niagara Falls, but that’s still about 2000 kms so hopefully a few more adventures and good roads along the way. 

The view from my second wild camp

That was a week that was!

Monday 18^th May 2015

It’s exactly one week today since I landed at Halifax Airport. A week of trials and tribulations due the ship arriving 5 days late, which cost me dear in terms of having to fork out for 6 nights instead of 1 at the Bluenose Motel. Anyway, that’s all behind me now, as I hit the open road once more! I awoke to a bit of a shock although I guess I shouldn't really have been surprised; there was a light dusting of frost on the ground. The fact that I awoke huddled deep inside my sleeping bag with my fleece hat on should have given me some idea of the outside temperature, but then again it was only about 6am. With sunrise at around 5.30am it didn't take long for the sun to pop his head over the trees and start to put

some warmth into the day. You can call me tight if you like but having had to pay $25 for my camping pitch I thought it a bit steep to then demand another $2 for a shower especially as the water in the sinks was only just above freezing point. I had no way of telling if the solitary shower would produce anything better, so it back to the tent, kettle on and a quick slosh by the tent. I didn't think the other campers would appreciate me stripping off for my normal wild camp shower hanging from a tree… the shower that is, not me!

By the time I finally got on the road at 9am the temperature was climbing nicely and had already surpassed yesterday heady heights of just 12c, and the day just kept getting better. Hitting a high of 27c at one point, although the coastal breeze made sure that didn’t last for too long. My plan for today was to head further north onto Cape Breton Island and to ride the Cabot Trail which I had been told had some stunning scenery.  The early part of the ride along the western fringe on Nova Scotia was something special in itself, with more of the picture book cottages and fisherman’s coves, along a stunning road which once more was carrying little traffic; something of a surprise as today was a public holiday, Victoria Day, so I had expected it to be a bit like a Bank Holiday back home. I stopped to refuel as even though I still had at least another 100km in the tank, I didn't want to get caught out as I got further north by a scarcity of fuel stations. Whilst I was in the station I also grabbed a rather nice Cappuccino and a delicious Cinnamon roll which seems to be very commonly available up here!

Crossing onto Cape Breton Island via the relatively recent causeway brought about a bit of a change in the road as I was now on Highway  105, which whilst not an interstate was certainly a bit busier and wider that I had become used to. It wasn’t too long before I turned left onto the 395, that much more my cup of tea as I was back to a nice twisty little road winding through hills and valleys heading back north east towards the coast. I passed Lake Ainslie on my left, as big a lake as I have ever seen, in fact so big was it that the wind blowing gently across it was cooled to such a degree that the temperature plummeted, dropping about 12c in the course of just a few miles, even though the sun was shining as brightly as ever.I hit the coast at Margaree Harbour, running across the bridge which spanned the wide river, almost a delta in fact in the way it split as it tumbled down to the sea.

I been told Cheticamp was a pretty place and somewhere that the Acadian way of life was in full swing… well sorry to say it didn’t really float my boat. It was a bit like Canvey Island in the early 1950s but without the candy floss and the kiss me quick hats! I pushed on. So far the Cabot Trail which I had turned onto a little before Margaree Harbour had failed to inspire. I had expected a rugged wilderness experience instead of which I was confronted with houses, cottages and trailers of all shapes and sizes strewn higgledy piggledy around the landscape as far as one could see. A few mile further on I spotted a sign which indicated I needed to purchase a pass for the Cape Breton Highlands National

Park of Canada… A rather grand name I though. I also though that I hoped it lived up to it’s grand title. Relieved of my $6.80 for my senior citizen pass I rode on into a magnificent wilderness, just what I had been looking for. Mile after mile the vista just enthralled and delighted. Probably the £3.50 I’ve spent in a long time. In many ways it was like Snowdonia but much, much bigger and without the tourists!!! It took a long time to do relatively few miles because as soon as I got going I’d stop again for yet another photograph.

At one view point a young(ish!) couple pulled up in their convertible and I asked if the guy would mind taking a photo for me with the bike against a stunning backdrop. He was happy to oblige and we also had quite a chat. They were from Ontario and he was here for a couple of weeks with his job. I shot off just before them and they follow me down the road for a few miles when I stopped for yet another photo. They pulled in behind me and the guy came over and handed me his card on the back of which he had written their home address. He apologised for not thinking of it earlier, saying that I would probably pass within a few miles of their house and if I had time to call in either for a drink and to stay the night! Yet another of those random act of kindness which I am always going on about.

Tonight sees me camping within the National Park at Biog Interval, a basic camp site which has just a composting toilet and not even a water supply. It is right on the river from which the water came to cook my dinner and make my tea, although it was a toss up as to whether I should use the river or melt some of the deep snow that is surrounding me. Until about half an hour ago I had the place to myself,… well that is just me the bears and the coyotes! However a car has now pulled in with a young guy in it who is presently putting up his tent, so at least the bears now have a choice of menu!

I think the temperature will be somewhere around zero or below once more tonight as it is already dropping fast. I'm sitting just a couple of feet from a quite fast flowing river with my back to the tent which is keeping some of the cold off of me but my fingers are beginning to stiffen up. Always a sure sign of cold weather so I think I’ll call it a day, light my little wood burner and have a warm before hitting the hay, or more accurately the duck down. I also think it will be the full thermals in bed tonight. One of the issues I have already discovered is that the trade off for having more space in the tent is that it doesn’t get anything like as warm as my little one man tent….   

Go East Old Man!

Just as I swung my leg over the bike this morning it started to rain. I’d been told that the weather was set fair for the holiday weekend. I guess nobody told Halifax! To be fair, it wasn’t anything to get excited about but it set my mood for the early part of the ride. After the best part of a week in the Bluenose Motel, it was almost like leaving home all over again. A deep melancholy descended on my souls as I rode out of town, not helped by the fact that I went the wrong way! I made the basic beginners error of setting my Sat Nav for the destination without checking which way it was taking me and as I had it set to avoid tolls and interstates I was heading due north towards the north coast of Nova Scotia before it decided to head west. Once I spotted the problem and rerouted it didn’t take long to get back onto the right road.

I always find starting a solo journey a bit tough. When you have a travelling companion you seem to spark off each others enthusiasm. Alone, my thoughts invariably turn to home and those I have left behind and won’t be seeing for quite a time. With this trip being my longest yet those thoughts came home to me especially hard. There is also that anticipation of the unknown, exciting certainly, but also just a little bit scary and even after all the trips I’ve done it is still there. No way of knowing what lies ahead, where I will stay or who I may meet. Whilst that is all part of the reason for travelling, it doesn’t mean I am immune from such thoughts.

The rain didn’t last long and it was not enough to wet my clothes or the road; just a few spots every now and then on my visor to let me know it was still about. I ran north as far as Enfield which I then realised was in the wrong direction! So I swung right onto the 277 then the 224 which dropped me back on the coast at Sheet Harbour. It really wasn’t a problem as it was still a great road to ride with hardly a vehicle to be seen. From Street Harbour it was just a case of staying on the coast road. Much of the road was in a fairly poor state of repair but The Beast just wafted over the bumps and craters, after all that was what she was designed for!  I pulled it to buy some food supplies, not much but enough so I had something for supper when I finally stopped. As I came out of the little supermarket there was a group youngsters admiring and taking photos of the bike. As we chatted, one of them said that I had timed my arrival just right as only a week or so ago they still had at least a metre of snoe laying around… Spring it seems has arrived. I set off once more but noticed to my dismay that the ignition warning light stayed on even at normal running speeds. I feared the worst, as last time it happen was in Greece and the alternator coil had blown. I thought I’d better at least have a quick look before the battery ran flat; not a pleasant thought on my first days riding and in the middle of nowhere! I also noticed that the GPS was running on it’s battery instead of off the bike circuit so first thing was to check the fuses. Sure enough the second of the main fuses I checked had blown. That was quickly replaced and off I went. Mat all my problems be so easy to fix.

Picturesque really doesn’t do justice to the scenery; it was a bit like the British Lake District but on steroids.! Lakes, rivers and sea all mixed in with more trees that you could shake a twig at. Clapper board houses painted in every imaginable colour; tiny harbours thronged with fishing boats old and new; with a nice twisty road that was not to narrow, not too wide; perfect picture postcard scenery. Stopping at the side of the road for yet another photograph, a police car came flying down the road with all his flashing lights on and stopped abruptly beside me. My heart did that little flutter that I’m sure everyone feels in such a position! I walk up to meet the officer as he got out and shook his hand. Hi, I said, everything OK? With a big grin he asked if I lost anything, No, I replied. Are you sure, perhaps a black bag and a tripod? Oh hell! In my enthusiasm to be on my way after fixing the fuse I’d forgotten to refasten the bungies on the top box. The black bag only contained my shipping bags so it would have been a nuisance rather than a disaster. However it was a salutary lesson to check things properly before setting off

Canso, you don@t go any further East without getting you feet wet!

My target form the day was Canso. The little fishing village which stands furthest East on the Canadian mainland. I made it easy enough by about 3.30pm but to tell the truth there was not much to hang about for as the temperature which had struggled to stay on double figures all day had suddenly started to drop. I had past a camp site on my way into Canso, and whilst I intend to wild camp for most of the trip to help keep cost down. I decided that I would chance it for tonight as it was my first day on the road. The site was fine although at $25 a bit steep especially when a huge RV with four people was only being charged $30!

Bring it on!

I awoke early this morning with feelings of relief certainly but also of trepidation, worry and just a little fear. Finally it’s time to hit the road. After a week of hanging around waiting for the Electra to dock, I collected The Beast yesterday afternoon, once more with the help of David, and she now sits snuggled up outside my room ready to start our little adventure, ( I had to sneak a peek through the curtains just then to make sure she really is there!!!)

I've got a bit of stuff still to pack away, although I did the bulk of it as soon as I returned from the port, including giving the  bike's little brass plaques a good clean!  My plan is to have the rest packed up before taking a quick, light breakfast here at the Bluenose Motel, then to head east along the coast to Canso, which is apparently the furthest point east on the Canadian mainland…. There are a few camp grounds around the area if I need them, but I'm just going to see how the day flows and how far I get! Judging from the scenery in the other direction, towards Peggy’s Cove, I may not get too far, with a photo to take around every corner. One potential small problem could be food, as most of the Canadian shops are, I believe, closed on Sundays still. So I may have slim pickings of boiled rice for dinner tonight. At least I have tea and coffee as well as various spices to go in the rice, so I’ll not starve. Besides after a week of eating in the motel, losing a few pounds sounds like a good option !

Bring it on!

Let's make like a real tourist!!!

Thursday 14^th. That's Yesterday LOL

Time to shake the lethargy out of my head, get my arse into gear and see something of this fine city of Halifax. After yesterday’s disappointment at Customs I spent the afternoon sorting out my kit and trying to rekindle the enthusiasm which had brought me here in the first place. To put things into perspective, assuming I get the bike on Friday, or even at the very worst on Tuesday, I have lost just one week of a 22 week trip. Even this can be made up by changing my homeward flight if needed. Yes, it had cost me about £300 which I hadn’t budgeted for, Dartmouth on the ferry sounded inviting, although David had warned me that there was not a lot to see there. So, showered, breakfasted, camera etc sorted into my rucksack and off to the bus stop which is about 100 yds from the motel. I hardly had time to catch my breath at the stop and the bus appeared as if by magic! $2.50 dropped into the slot and off we went.

but I had built in a contingency, so even that is not a complete disaster. The sun was shinning once more and I was going to catch the bus into town for a bit more sight seeing. A trip across the bay to

Somehow I got into conversation with the bus driver, I’m not really quite sure how, but such thing just sort of happen around me, as anyone who know me knows…. It transpired that he was also a biker! A couple of years back whilst, I would guess, in his mid fifties, he and his wife both trained, took their tests and now ride motorcycles!!! We talked non-stop all the way into town, with another passenger, also a biker, joining in occasionally. That’s what I love about travel, it’s the people you meet that make it so very special. A slightly strange coincidence was that last year whilst I was enjoying my first ever trip to Canada, he and his wife were making their first ever visit to the UK, staying in and thoroughly enjoying, London. He now rides a 750 Honda Shadow, a bike which I have also owned and enjoyed in years gone by, albeit the 1100cc version.

Almost too soon we arrived at my stop and he pointed me the way to the ferry, which I had decided would be my first stop. I entered the little terminal, flashed my transfer ticket and within minutes was standing on the stern of the little ship as we headed off across the water. It was only about a 15 minute trip, but it was great to see the city from a different perspective. The shoreline was dominated by the twin towers of Purdy Wharf which I had been up (3 times!!!) yesterday. I got a little excited when I saw a large ship manoeuvring over by the Autoport, wondering if it was the Electra with my bike on board  finally arriving, only to be brought back to earth with a bump when it turned and could be recognised as a fuel tanker.

David was right, there was not a lot to see in Dartmouth other than the ferry terminal and adjoining gardens but it was pleasant enough. I even got into conversation with a young lady named Lindsey who kindly took a photo of me against the Halifax skyline. By now it was nearly 1pm, the time at which my transfer ticket expired, so I jumped back on another ferry with about 2 minutes to spare and headed back across the water and into town.

It had been suggested to me that the view from the new library building was something a bit special so that’s where I eventually found myself. Never mind the view, the library itself was a bit special. A huge glass and steel edifice of five floors, crammed with books and computer terminals. They were of course all hooked into the internet and connected to headphones, to keep the traditional sacrosanct silence, and free for all WiFi to boot. I have never seen such a modern concept of a library. It has apparently drawn world acclaim for its architecture. The fifth floor of the building extended beyond the lower floors with completely glass walls, giving the feeling of just hanging in space. And as promised the views of the city were indeed spectacular. Amongst all the urban paraphernalia I spotted a green hill top right in the centre of town with some odd looking shapes on the top. It turned out to be the Halifax Citadel

The present Citadel, completed in 1856 is the fourth in a series of forts to occupy this commanding position which overlooks the harbour, the first being built as early as 1749. It has never been attacked and so the impressive cannon have never been fired in anger. I must say however that I got a bit of a shock whilst over the over side of the water at Dartmouth earlier when I heard what sounded like a huge explosion coming from somewhere in the city. One of the cannon is in fact fired every day to signal noon! I’m told that these days they only use 1lb of black powder in the cannon as the 4lb that used to be used up ubtil the early 1900s, shattered windows in the city on a regular basis…. Having heard the report that 1lb makes, I can well believe it.

Time was marching on and as David was collecting me at around 4.30 for a trip down to Peggy’s Cove, my thoughts turned to catching the bus back to base. As I scanned the vista from the Citadel walls I saw what I thought I recognised as some base ball pitches laid out on a field next to the

University. If I was right the road at the far side was the one along which I had travelled on my way in on the bus. So gambling on my instincts I headed over that way. The Gods were certainly smiling on me today. Not only was my assumption right, no sooner had I got to the bus stop than a bus turned up!  The one place on my list which I hadn’t managed to get to was the Armoury, but that could wait for another day! A little after 4.30pm David arrived as arranged for our trip down to Peggy’s Cove.

I can’t begin to tell you how much I have appreciated all the time David has put into helping me since my arrival in Halifax. From the moment I hobbled out of the airport arrivals hall, he has been an absolute star! Turning what would have been an incredibly difficult period into something I will always remember for his kindness and assistance.

The drive down to Peggy’s Cove was the sort of scenery and roads that I had come to find. We left town on big, wide, straight roads, but soon turned onto the much narrower, twisty road that ran around this wild, craggy, weather beaten coast. We made several stops along the way to take photographs. Indeed it was one of those journeys where you could stop every hundred yards or so to take photos. Every twist and turn brought another stunning vista into view. Unfortunately, as this coast faces West, this late in the day the sun was really in the wrong position to make the best of such stunning scenery… Guess that means I may have to come back another day!!!

By the time we got to Peggy’s Cove the sun was dropping fast as was the temperature. That, however, had not deterred the large number of tourists still clambering across the rocks and taking pictures of the famous lighthouse. Of course I had to join in. You simply can’t visit to a place like that without the obligatory piccys, can you? The day was rounded off with a light supper at the adjacent restaurant which, whilst a bit tacky with their lines of Chinese made souvenirs and lighthouse replicas, served some decent food and some really nice homemade deserts. Whilst David tucked in to the biggest piece of Ginger cake I've ever seen, I rounded off with a somewhat more modest portion of Apple Crisp and Ice cream… otherwise known as Apple Crumble on our side of the pond.

The Saga Continues!

Wednesday morning, and I needed to get down to the Shipping Agents office to pay the fees to get my bike released when it eventually arrives. So I raised a few eyebrows in the motel when I declared that I was going to walk into town. Walking is something that obviously is not uppermost in the minds of your average Canadian. But it's miles I was told by all and sundry, well, yes it is. Actually it's 6 miles to be precise according to Mr Garmin. Where's the problem...? The route was a piece of cake; straight down Bedford Highway, The sun was shining as I set off and I was really looking forward to the exercise after so much sitting around; 6 hours on the bus to Heathrow; 5 hours sitting in the airport; 6 hours on the plane and then a day of hanging about at the Motel. OK I did do a few miles yesterday, but still, the more people that told me I was mad, the more I was determined to do it... when will I ever learn?

Unfortunately the sun didn't shine for very long and as I was only wearing a T shirt, it wasn't long before I was hunting in my rucksac for my thin windproof that I always carry. At least it wasn't raining although the sky looked somewhat ominous. The walk across town was a delight, you see so much more when you walk rather than sit in a car or bus. The old mingling with the  new; the faded wooded siding on the old houses in stark but beautiful contrast to the shiny glass and steel on the tower blocks on the skyline. Big open spaces counter balancing the crush of the buildings both old and new. I found the twin towers that make up Purdy's Wharf easily enough. I had been told that the office I needed was on the 13th floor. Into the lift, up I went at rocket ship speed. Now where's that office? Ah! guess I had to pick the wrong tower didn't I! Back down in the lift across the walk way into the second tower and up I go to the 13th floor. Yes, got it right this time. Got out my tablet with the document on it. Ah! we need it printed out. No you cant connect to our WiFi, you need to go back down, cross the wakway into the Marriott Hotel and there is a Starbucks on the ground floor with free WiFi and you can email it to us! Ok, that sorted, pay over my $164 by money order which I'd collected enroute from the Post Office and was told to take the receipted Notice of Arrival over to Customs. on Hollis Street.

t was only about a 10 minute walk across to Hollis Street but my enthusiasm was to be short lived as I was told by the very pleasant young lady behind the counter that they couldn't do anything until the ship had actually dock and my bike had been unloaded. She went on to add that in fact Wallneus could be in for a big fine if the ship did not dock on the 15th as stated on the Notice of Arrival as they should not have issued the notice until the ship was in port! Oh Hell! does anyone know what they are doing around here ! I was beginning to wish I had flown in a week later, but then hindsight is a wonderful thing and we have to rely on those who are supposed to be the experts. I was given a phone number to ring on Friday morning to see what the position was then. But if I didn't get the bike on Friday I would have to wait until Tuesday, as Monday was Victoria Day and a public holiday. Oh Joy!

There was nothing more that could be done so I had a bit of a half-hearted wander around the waterfront area, although by now my feet were a little sore and I just couldn't find the enthusiasm for sightseeing after my disappointment. I found a bus stop easily enough for the No 80 or 81 that I needed to get me back to Bedford and my Motel. There was only one other person waiting so I asked him if he had any idea what time the bus was due.... Arggg! Deja Vu, It just had to be Chinese guy just arrived to attend University in Halifax and who barely spoke any English! It could only happen to me!

The buses in Halifax run on a fixed tariff of $2.50 for any journey and you can even break your journey or use the ticket for the return or for the ferry. They also run very frequently so half an hour or so later I was back at the hotel feeling a little depressed and just hoping that my trip would be able to get underway sometime soon. Not only was I getting very frustrated at the hanging around which was nor being helped by the lack of accurate information from people who should have been better informed but my budget was already under severe pressure before I turned a wheel.

Well, that was Day One!

There may be a delay in collecting “The Beast” but that hasn't stopped me enjoying my first day in Canada. The first huge plus point was that I could actually walk. After hobbling in to the motel on Monday afternoon hardly able to put my right foot on the floor, I was amazed to wake up, if not completely pain free, at least able to walk. I wandered over to the restaurant for breakfast and had a feast ! I was looking for something local, something different to the usual eggs and bacon. My appetite had already been titillated by the menu in my room and the voucher I received for a free continental style breakfast or 15% of any of the other plethora of offering. I eventually settled for an “Eastern Sandwich”; a ham omelette served in two thick slices of home made bread and served with home made backed beans and neat little fries. It didn’t disappoint! Coffee was served free and freely with every breakfast and in spite of my penchant for a morning cup of tea or two, the coffee was slipping down very nicely and it didn’t break the bank…

Talking of banks; I then headed up to the shopping centre which is right on top of the hill behind the motel to get some Canadian dollars. A nice easy walk of about 2 miles which I thought should loosen up my foot a little more (or finish it off!). I’d almost forgotten just how friendly Canadians are! I lost count of the number of people who wished me “Good morning” as I walked up the hill. It was school run time and the huge, yellow traditional school buses were in abundance as they stopped to collect the hoards of extremely well behaved children. The cars too, were behaving impeccably, stopping neatly in line behind the busses as they stopped and shot out a little “Stop” sign from the offside of the cab.  Vehicles from both direction come to halt enabling the children to safely cross the road and not until the last child is aboard does the sign come in, the red lights stop flashing and everything moves gently on its way. Try comparing that with the frenetic scene outside a UK school every school day morning and afternoon!

Arriving at the bank the cash machine was being serviced so I popped in and spoke to a charming young lady behind a very open counter. No bullet proof glass to be seen! How much nicer than the way UK banks have gone in recent years; and remember this is in a country where guns are freely available and rifles are to be seen in racks in the back of virtually every pickup truck. In no time at all I had changed Stirling for Dollars, wished “good day” and wandered off to have a peak around the rest of the shopping area, not that I actually needed anything much. So with my foot now working just fine and pain free I headed back for the motel. Unfortunately the weather, whilst dry, was very misty so views were non existent, a shame as I think there would have been some nice photos to be had across the river.

Back at base it was time to try to find out the exact position regarding the collection of my bike. I couldn't get the line to connect either from my mobile or indeed from the land line in my room so popped over to reception where the staff were only too happy to help, making phone calls and enquiries and printing out information from the internet for me until I finally connected with the right person! With my new information to hand, back in my room I phoned the shipping agent to be told that the ship would definitely be unloaded on Friday and if I got the payment to them ASAP and sorted the paperwork with customs at the same time, there was a good chance I could collect the bike on Friday. That would be good, as not only do they not work weekends, Monday is also a holiday! David had arranged to call in at around 4.30pm and then took me for a tour of Halifax as well as pointing out where I had to go to pay the fees and where the customs were.   

And what a lovely town Halifax appears to be, it was a bit of a whistle stop tour but with David pointing out many of the more notable sites. We stopped in at one of the cemeteries where many of the Titanic’s tragic victims are buried, including the unknown baby that was found and then recently exhumed and finally identified. A ride along the waterfront, the central park and some of the more prominent properties and it was time for supper. David had pointed out one of his favourite eateries on the way into town so that was where we headed. Whilst David ordered the pork chops I had the days special; a steak sandwich served with a Greek salad, home made coleslaw and a bown of dipping gravy! Oh boy! do I need to get on the road way from all this temptation…. A nice way to round off my first day back in Canada.