Star treatment continues

Day 3: Saint John, NB, to Digby, NS
Mileage: probably 428 plus many nautical miles...

Isn't it funny how the sound of nail clippers is so distinctive? I was sitting in my car at the ferry terminal, surrounded by trucks running, people talking, pets pooping, and I hear that familiar high-pitched "pling." I looked around and, sure enough, there's a guy sitting at picnic table clipping away. Way to go, champ. Stay classy.

I'm very glad you asked.

For reference, here's what's happened so far:

So this morning, I took the ferry from Saint John, New Brunswick, to Digby, Nova Scotia. This girl is not cut out for the sea. I rely on these like Dumbo relied on his feather:

Sea Bands. Or, as I call them, to sound
cool, "My Rick Springfield cuffs!!"

They sort of worked. What really helped? Young Stephen here from Saint John giving a talk on marine life.

Stephen looks like a young Jeremy Sisto (Six Feet Under, Clueless) and can swing between French and English in the blink of an eye. Aaand with that I've officially become a cougar. Look out, young Stephen. There's a return trip in here somewhere... rawr

***

I should back up a little and explain that my adoration of Nova Scotia stems from family roots. My great grandmother, Emma Comeau, was first generation American. Her parents, Etta and Freddie, sailed down to Boston around 1907 and ended up in Bradford, MA (along with 17 billion other Comeaus). Emma died when I was about 9, but her spirit lives on in my mind. I'll probably talk more about her as the trip goes on.

Emma is probably spinning in her grave as I type because I'm staying here:

A British loyalist house! Sacre bleu!

Holdsworth House is a 1784 home that has been carefully restored to its original glory. When I arrived, I was welcomed with, "Hi, Kelly!" Margaret is a fantastic hostess. She gave me a full tour of the house, explaining the Holdsworth family history (Margaret and her husband, Tony, are the first non-Holdsworths to own the property) and pointing out all of the details of the house.

I'm in the Mabel Holdworth room.
Mabel died at the age of 90, one year after I was born.

Sweet Chester, an old man at 16.

Now I knew I was going to be staying in an old house, and having grown up in one, I figured staircases would be tight--no need for a big suitcase. So I arranged my stuff ahead of time. Tony offered to bring up my bags, and I tried to explain that I didn't have much to bring up. They walked out to my car to take a look. I was slightly embarrassed. I pack light:

Packing cube, toiletries, computer, and ginormous purse. All set.

Then it was off to discover Digby. I spent a couple hours here about 10 years ago on a cold September day when everything was closed but one restaurant that overcooked the scallops. Bad scallops in Digby? But...But...

That's right. Digby is known for its scallops. And as I intend to eat my weight in scallops as I travel over the next several days, I was truly hoping for an experience that would entirely erase the earlier one. And it happened.

See, Margaret and Tony also run Mag Pyes, a bakery and cafe in the center of town. So after walking around a bit . . .

Those famous Fundy tides that I love...

This made me laugh. Many Americans are too lazy to recycle when everything goes into
one bin. Can you imagine the average American faced with this?

Anybaby want some curdled milk?

. . . I had dinner at Mag Pyes. Tony greeted me when I arrived and had a table all set up for me. I kinda felt like a rock star. As much as I like traveling alone, restaurants can be tough sometimes. But Margaret and Tony have been very good to me. And the food. The food is phenomenal. So go to Canada, make a reservation at Mag Pyes, and eat your little heart out.

Yup, Imma do it. Gratuitous food pics:

Pan-seared scallops with grilled vegetables and pan-seared new potatoes

Ice cream sandwich. Mmmm

So. Much. Food. But it was grand. I took a long walk before heading back to the B&B. And it's been hot up here today, close to 90 and hazy. But the cool air is starting to come in now that the sun has gone down. I'm about ready to snuggle up with my book.

Gnight