Lunenburg

Jim had a smile on his face as he set up his tripod overlooking the harbour and its town. The water of the bay showed slight ripples from the evening breeze. A fifty-foot boat with sails filled, slipped out of sight around the point. About fifteen other sailboats were moored for night. There were hulls of blue, green, black, white and polished wood. It is a big harbour. Our map shows fourteen separate wharves. Working fishing boats occupied about half of them.

The setting sun cast a warm glow over the town, especially highlighting the many buildings painted ripe-apple red. Four steeples punctured the skyline. 20 days and 6000 kilometres: we had finally made it to Lunenburg.

The colourful, characterful buildings of Lunenburg are not confined to the UNESCO World Heritage area of town. Back harbour, front harbour, hospital hill, bayside – the buildings all had ornate woodwork and mouldings. The vibrant colours seemed newly painted. Even the NAPA auto parts store were freshening their shop’s deep rich blue exterior.

“If we painted our place pumpkin orange with yellow and white trim – and a green door - in Canmore – we’d be hauled away,” Jim said.

It was now time for me to get a job. I left a message at the South Shore Regional Hospital at Bridgewater. The call came a couple of hours later. You gotta love it when the word desperate is used by the employer when you’re looking for work. It wasn’t really an interview I had that Wednesday. It was more of a list of choices. My main area of interest is in the Operating Room. I had to interrupt Cynthia, the supervisor.

“Are you telling me that even in the O.R. I can go full time or name what percentage of a job I would like - and I’ll have it?”

“We would like 40% at least but you can make up with casual work if you want more. Or you can work casual and completely choose all your hours. And don’t forget we close half our operating rooms during holidays so time off then is no problem.”

Next I went to Lunenburg Hospital. It is a much smaller facility than the SSRH. I was introduced to a nurse at the Emergency Room desk.

“This is Michelle. She is interested in working here – but she may end up in the O.R. in Bridgewater.”

“Nice to meet you anyway,” she said.

So – decision made. I am working a 60% job in the O.R. I am assured I can work more or even less if I wish. I start early November. Monday to Friday and the O.R. finishes at 4 pm. There is some on-call but less than in Canmore.

With work sorted out, we started looking for a place to live. The world has discovered Lunenburg and that’s reflected in the price of real estate. We decided to rent.

The place we chose is right on the downtown waterfront. It is the upper floor of a home built in the early 1900’s. The view from the deck is what has captivated us. We look right down over the wharfs and all over the bay. It is rented to tourists -as we rent our home- in the summer time. That means the place is fully equipped. In the winter the owners look for long-term tenants. We have the place until the end of May. (You can see it on the web – google Admiralty House Lunenburg.)
We did all our communication with the owner Sandy by phone. He told us he didn't usually rent long term to anyone without meeting them - but he would make an exception with us.
"I like the cut of your Jib," he told me.

We were in town about 48 hours. Got a job and a house. We even visited the curling rink but sign up hasn’t started yet. All I need now is a car – the way our luck is going I think it will be an Audi.

We are off to tour the fall colours - PEI and Cape Breton. We’d love to hear from you.

Photo - Wiebes at their new home

Photo - Mahone Bay

Photo - Lunenburg

Celebration Nova Scotia

Verna, Garth and Alexander (Jim’s cousins) welcomed us to their home on the coast outside Halifax. The water now had a smell of salt and moved with the tide. Sailboats were anchored in the bay. We had finally arrived at the Atlantic.

“Can I have a look at your pound and a quarters,” Garth asked. The young man turned to one of the pool-sized tanks, pulled out a lobster and placed it on the stainless steel counter top.

“Nice and firm,” the man commented as Garth squeezed the lobster over its shoulders.

A few minutes later he walked out of the store carrying a cardboard box with five live lobsters.

“Please don’t put those guys on the back seat with me,” I asked.

I may have grown up on the coast – but it was a wrong coast for lobster. I know nothing about them. Garth does. He set up his single propane burner and his enormous lobster pot (about thirty litres) on the back deck. I couldn’t watch the poor fellas go in – but I could watch them come out. They changed from dark greeny-brown to iridescent red in exactly twelve minutes.

My lack of knowledge of selection and preparation of lobster is matched by my lack of knowledge of how to eat them. Garth made it easier by cracking what needed to be cracked and removing what needed to go. It is a kind of ‘roll up your sleeves’ messy eating.

“Grab your fork and stick it in the fin end of the tail – you should be able to push the whole piece of meat out at once.”

In about thirty minutes the platter of lobster turned into a big bowlful of shell pieces and Nova Scotia turned from a dream into reality.

Now for the work of this holiday. We have to go to Lunenberg and get a home and a job….

Photo - Garth & Lobsters

Photo - Lobsters

New Brunswick

Hartland is the site of the world’s longest covered bridge. It was built in 1901. At the tourist information we discovered the nearest camp-ground was twenty kilometers away.

“Isn’t it worth staying here?” Jim asked.

Twenty kilometers is too far when you want to be there to photograph sunrise and sunset. I noticed the Church parking lot next door had a sign ‘No Overnight Parking November till March’. In our minds September was just fine. We drove our trailer down by the river at the very back of the lot and tried to position it as discreetly as possible. Before bed we went for walk down by the bridge. Hot, bright, white floodlights shone from the back of the church – essentially spotlighting our little rig.

“Yes, we really picked an inconspicuous spot, didn’t we?” Jim asked.

The bridge is 370 meters long and is roofed and walled with grey planks of wood. We sat by the town side entrance and watched the goings on. This is a one-way bridge –with only a stop sign at each entry (no traffic light).

“How do they know whose turn it is?” I asked Jim.

We sat and watched the traffic. It all appeared to work smoothly. It seemed people drove up and looked. If they saw no headlights – away they went. The tricky part came when they saw taillights. We decided it must be like a red flag to a bull. This was the signal for the local drivers to speed up and see if they could catch them in the length of the bridge. The stop signs became decoration.

New Brunswick is part of the Maritimes but … Nova Scotia is our destination. We can almost smell the sea air…………..

Hartland Coverd Bridge

Nova Scotia