So you know a place is insanely gorgeous when, on your final day of vacation, as a blazing sun settles in a perfect sunset over the hills, you sarcastically remark "Oh great, another picturesque sunset. Why is there no trash on the ground in this place?" Nova Scotia was a ridiculous maritime pastoral (if such a thing exists). Rocky ocean bluffs, green rolling hills, crystal blue water... Think Hawaii, only thirty degrees cooler and 30 degrees of latitude norther. And crabs and scallops instead of coral reef. And Scottish and French people instead of Hawaiian natives. Okay fine, it's nothing like Hawaii. Here are some pictures anyway:
Bar Harbor, Maine gets quite a bit of marine fog. Huh, so that "enshrouded in mist" thing those authors talk about really does exist... This picture is of the surrounding islands taken from the top of Champlain Mountain on Mount Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The Precipice Trail to the summit is a super fun 1000 foot climb complete with iron handholds and footholds in the nesting grounds of the peregrine falcon. I'm sorry, did I mention mountains and bouldering and endangered falcons all in one sentence? Yup, Maine is just that fun.
The first of many perfect sunsets. This was from Cadillac Mountain, Acadia. From there we took the ferry to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia (pronounced in the Maine way "Yahmouth." You know, like the "lobstah" and the "chowdah") and drove to Digby, home of a large scallop fleet. Home also to some pretty severe rain, a beach where you can find jasper, bacon-wrapped scallops, donair pizza (that would be döner to anyone who's been to Europe), and Canadian McDonalds that sell McLobsters.
Part of the scallop fleet. The red boats 
are clearly at lower tide. You can see the high tide mark on the pier behind them. The Bay of Fundy, that strip of water between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, is home to the highest recorded tides in the world. The tides are so extreme, the docks use combined ramp/ stair units. At low tide you use the stairs, and at high tide you walk across the ramp like a gangplank. In Digby we saw a boat go from completely beached to bobbing on the water in twelve hours.
Sunset in Digby (ooh, aaah). So we hung out for a couple of days and then headed out to Brier Island, Nova Scotia's westernmost point. 
We went on a whale cruise (four humpbacks and an Atlantic right whale) and camped out on a remote beach where we found one very dead seagull and one very dead seal.
Um, did I neglect to mention that we drove to Nova Scotia on a giant scooter? The next day we stopped at the (very tourist-y) Balancing Rock 
before heading up to Cape Breton. Along the way we marvelled at the Bay of Fundy. The Minas Basin on the northern side of Nova Scotia completely drains and refills with the tides. When the tide comes in, the water is so heavy that the entire island of Nova Scotia actually tilts. The oncoming rush of high tide is enough to reverse the directions of the low-lying rivers. We didn't go tidal bore rafting, but we saw plenty of places that offered it. Pictures left to post: bald eagles, jellyfish, more sunsets, more boats, caterpillers, giant spiders, crazy fungi, and the ridiculously lovely Cape Breton.
Bar Harbor, Maine gets quite a bit of marine fog. Huh, so that "enshrouded in mist" thing those authors talk about really does exist... This picture is of the surrounding islands taken from the top of Champlain Mountain on Mount Desert Island in Acadia National Park. The Precipice Trail to the summit is a super fun 1000 foot climb complete with iron handholds and footholds in the nesting grounds of the peregrine falcon. I'm sorry, did I mention mountains and bouldering and endangered falcons all in one sentence? Yup, Maine is just that fun.
The first of many perfect sunsets. This was from Cadillac Mountain, Acadia. From there we took the ferry to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia (pronounced in the Maine way "Yahmouth." You know, like the "lobstah" and the "chowdah") and drove to Digby, home of a large scallop fleet. Home also to some pretty severe rain, a beach where you can find jasper, bacon-wrapped scallops, donair pizza (that would be döner to anyone who's been to Europe), and Canadian McDonalds that sell McLobsters.
Part of the scallop fleet. The red boats 
are clearly at lower tide. You can see the high tide mark on the pier behind them. The Bay of Fundy, that strip of water between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, is home to the highest recorded tides in the world. The tides are so extreme, the docks use combined ramp/ stair units. At low tide you use the stairs, and at high tide you walk across the ramp like a gangplank. In Digby we saw a boat go from completely beached to bobbing on the water in twelve hours.
Sunset in Digby (ooh, aaah). So we hung out for a couple of days and then headed out to Brier Island, Nova Scotia's westernmost point. 
We went on a whale cruise (four humpbacks and an Atlantic right whale) and camped out on a remote beach where we found one very dead seagull and one very dead seal.
Um, did I neglect to mention that we drove to Nova Scotia on a giant scooter? The next day we stopped at the (very tourist-y) Balancing Rock 
before heading up to Cape Breton. Along the way we marvelled at the Bay of Fundy. The Minas Basin on the northern side of Nova Scotia completely drains and refills with the tides. When the tide comes in, the water is so heavy that the entire island of Nova Scotia actually tilts. The oncoming rush of high tide is enough to reverse the directions of the low-lying rivers. We didn't go tidal bore rafting, but we saw plenty of places that offered it. Pictures left to post: bald eagles, jellyfish, more sunsets, more boats, caterpillers, giant spiders, crazy fungi, and the ridiculously lovely Cape Breton.
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