Maine to Nova Scotia

We arrived in Deer Isle, a quiet little village along one of the many ocean inlets that make up the Maine coast, replete with lighthouses, and found our way to the Pilgrim's Inn.  They require that guests with dogs stay in one of their cottages rather than in the main house (at least thats what they told us), so we had a lovely one bedroom place

with a deck which overlooked the expansive lawn, the "pond" (which was a continuation of the ocean on the other side of the road), and the ocean itself.  The road led down to Stonington, a small fishing village that reportedly had the largest lobster crop of any coastal town.  

We found a number of hiking trails along the water so Ziggy was able to stretch his legs a bit.  We were also introduced

 to Maine's black flies, small biting (though not disease carrying) insects that found

 our faces irresistable.   We visited a weaver who, finding out we were from Berkeley,

 told us of an Oakland couple who ran a Mexican restaurant nearby.  We visited (the wife was wearing a Cal Berkeley T shirt behind the counter) and, continuing our "all lobster, all the time" theme, ordered the lobster tacos. Good!

Bar Harbor was next.  A much busier area, we were warned it was very "touristy."  In the post Memorial Day doldrums, this did not prove to be a problem.  We got a room at the Ledgelawn Inn, a wonderful old building with dozens of rooms, all empty but ours and that of one other couple, who arrived our second day and seemed a little freaked out that there 

were no staff in the inn overnight, or, in their case to greet them at all.  We kind of liked the feeling that we had the place to ourselves.  They seemed to think of it as "The Shining."  One of the benefits, besides being able to poke our noses into all the unoccupied rooms, was that we could have Ziggy with us in all the public ones.  

The town was lovely with beautiful harbor views.  As this was our last stop in Maine and lobster was incredibly low priced, we had some every day, sometimes twice, including lobster pizza, as well as whole lobster.  On a rainy Sunday night, we saw the new Indiana Jones movie in a classic old theater in town.  We did the loop drive through Acadia National Park, hiked on the carriage roads built (or at at least 

paid for) by John D. Rockefeller, who had a big summer house nearby until the disastrous fire near the turn of the century.  We also saw the sunset from Cadillac Mountain, the highest elevation on the east coast, though only marginally higher than Mount Tamalpais.

From Bar Harbor we took the ferry to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia.  Only a three hour ride on calm seas but the ship was rocking and we had to leave Ziggy in the van on the vehicle deck.  He seemed to tolerate it at least as well as we did. Chinese food for

lunch in Yarmouth (change of pace) and then off along the Evangeline trail (remember your Longfellow?  I thought not.  We all shoulda paid more attention in

 high school).

We drove along the Bay of Fundy to Annapolis Royal, where we stayed at the Hillsdale House Inn, where Ziggy got to play with the house dog, Hannah, a Bernese Mountain Dog, on the 12-acres of rolling grounds down to the river next to an incredible arboretum for which the town is known.  The owners of the inn recommended a tiny Austrian restaurant next to the river, where we sampled scallops (the local seafood, who knew) as well as wiener schnitzle. Ziggy waited patiently in

 the doorway as usual, watching us and not the beautiful view, hoping for leftovers.  

 

The next day, Tuesday, June 3, we continued the drive northeast on the western side of Nova Scotia heading toward Cape Breton Island National Park, our reason for diverging to Nova Scotia.   After many people mentioned its great beauty and assumed we were going there, we decided we should.   

The National Park being at the far tip of Nova Scotia, we drove all of the next day, stopping in the late afternoon to sample the wares at a couple of wineries, one of which (Domaine de Grand Pre) was quite lovely.  The wine wasn't bad either, although Susan really fell in love with the labels, so Ron bought the wine and Susan the posters.  

At dusk we made it to Truro, a bigger town where we expected to have an easy time finding a place to stay but found only seedy motels. After checking out several, we settled for what seemed the best of the lot -- perhaps too tired to judge or care at that point -- and had dinner at a funky Italian restaurant/pizza joint near the freeway, where a dozen local kids arrived in full prom regalia, glittery floor-lenghth gowns and tuxedos.  (Prom on a Tuesday night?)  

On Wednesday we continued on the faster inland highway, crossed the Canso Causeway to Cape Breton Island and checked into the Inverary Inn and Resort on the water in the town of Baddeck (pronounced B'deck), the gateway to the Cabot Trail, 168 miles of road that circles almost the entire upper tip of Nova Scotia, preserved in all its splendor as Cape Breton Island National Park.  As in the inn at Deer Isle in Maine, dogs were relegated to cabins, but again this was no hardship.   Although our cabin looked rustic on the outside,  inside we found a beautifully renovated one-bedroom unit, complete with a living room, a kitchenette, and, Ziggy's favorite amenity, a king-size bed.  As it was still early in the day, we decided to start to explore the Cabot Trail and perhaps find a place to move to closer to the park the next day.  We headed along the west shore toward Margaree Fork, but were

 compelled to turn south so we could visit the town of Inverness, which despite lovely

views turned out to be not nearly as appealing as "our" Inverness in California.   

In Baddeck we discovered that Nova Scotia is another "lobster capital" rivaling Maine.  And we had arrived in time for the Lobsterpalooza Festival, making lobster the best deal on the menu at the Inn's restaurant.    How could we resist?

We seemed to be slightly ahead of the season here, with some hotels and restaurants just starting to open, so we decided we better reserve a place in advance along the Cabot Trail.  Susan also found a great local yarn shop, although the yarn she selected was from Japan.  

Thursday we drove on, stopping briefly on top of Old Smokey (no, not that one) to take some pictures, then going on to the Keltic Lodge in Ingonish Beach within Cape Breton National Park, where we had made reservations the prior evening without

 knowing much about it (other than they take dogs).  On arrival we were delighted with the beauty of the lodge, its restaurant (and bar), and the water views we had in all directions from our cottage.  It is on a narrow spit of land between two bays.  Think 

Chimney Rock, Susie's favorite place on earth, only with a classic lodge with wood panelled rooms, manicured grounds, and lots of strategically placed Adirondack chairs to take in the views.  Celtic music at night, hikes in the park during the day,

 heaven.