A short film of our recent camping and hiking exploits.

Camping in Nova Scotia

Taking advantage of the ‘Atlantic Bubble’ we took a three day break to Nova Scotia with a car full of camping gear. Online registration was a breeze and passing through the New Brunswick and Nova Scotia checkpoints was equally so. We made our customary stop for brunch at the Irving Big Stop in Aulac and motored south towards Halifax.

After three and a half hours we reached King Neptune Campground at Indian Harbour. We selected the same pitch as last year and were fully set up in forty-five minutes. The camp site is simple but pleasant and mostly stacked with RVs and trailers. We were one of only half a dozen tenters.

The weather was hot and humid by day and rather chilly by night, ranging from 25C to 12C across three days. As is our custom we scrambled all across the several kilometres of granite coastline around Polly Cove and several hours of exertion and blazing sun set us up nicely for a campfire and an early night.

We lit great fires each night and watched the setting sun turn the sky shades of yellow and orange. With zero light pollution the starry night was spectacular and made getting up to answer the call of nature in the small hours an event! Sometimes during the night hours we heard a deep reverberating blast way off in the distance, not unlike a snore but coming about once a second. We pondered the possible origins and were fascinated to learn from our local friend Mimmi Henriksen that we were hearing dolphins blowing as they swam through feeding grounds.

We took a hike across the Peggy’s Cove site too and shook our heads at those edging way too close to the surging water by the treacherous black rocks. The lighthouse is a great sight but one we probably didn’t need to see on a busy Labour Day weekend when visitors were out in force. Much more satisfying was our hike on the trails near West Dover, a short drive east. From one peak in the hills we could see right out to sea. Inland there were spectacular residences cut into granite slopes, one with a seaplane moored alongside.

All too soon our adventure drew to a close and as we made breakfast on our final morning we surveyed the site to find only four pitches out of sixty-five remained occupied; a mass exodus had taken place after the holiday weekend and in time for the first day of school, resuming after a six month break.

Camping at Corney Brook, Cape Breton, NS

Cape Breton called and we answered. Driving via the Confederation Bridge is cheaper but adds two and a half hours to the journey if made by ferry. However we were in no rush and enjoyed spending the cash saved on a slap-up breakfast at the Aulac Big Stop, a great place to eat while people-watching. “Who dressed her today? Does he realise those shorts look ridiculous. She doesn’t need that huge slice of pie!”

The somewhat irritable lady announcer on Susan’s GPS squawked in indignation when we appeared to be yomping though fields near Antigonish but calm was restored when the newly laid section of Highway 104 resumed contact with the old road and her protests subsided.

After five and three quarter hours driving, watching the Nova Scotia scenery slide by, we arrived at the tiny Corney Brook camp site right by the shore of the Northumberland Strait. It’s unmanned and first come first served. Luckily at 4pm we were in time to bag one of the four remaining pitches. My dome tent popped up quickly but there then ensued a twenty minute bout of grappling with the fly. It flapped like a pterodactyl in the stiff on-shore wind and at times we stood either side of the tent holding it and wondering what to do. Those handy little Velcro straps came to the rescue and we tamed the beast.

Who pumps up air mattresses by hand? I do! I had acquired a set of adapters for my portable compressor but none would fit the mattress valve. Four hundred and fifty pumps later we were about to call it ‘job done’ when Susan heard a faint hiss. Oh well, we’ll see what it’s like when we get back from an excursion.

A quick jaunt to the Cape Breton Visitor Centre at Cheticamp and we were relieved of cash for three days of National Park passes and two nights camping – still cheaper than ‘half’ a night in a motel! Onwards next, to the main road through Cheticamp where expensive seafood restaurants have all but cornered the market. We spied Wabo’s Pizza and dived in for anything but pizza. Susan sampled the chicken fingers and fries, I the 12 inch veggie sub.

Energy levels suitably restored, we returned the twelve kilometers to our remote camp and inspected the air mattress. Darn it, a tad soft. Pump, pump. A short boardwalk with steps drops down to the beach of a little cove where we sat on a driftwood log and watched the sun sink into the horizon, a yellow and pink ball crossed with thin black streaks of cloud.

Waking for a pee break during the night revealed the mattress to be so deflated that we were partly resting on the ground. One hundred and ten pumps later, plus a swift pee in or near the bushes, and slumber was resumed but not before I took time to admire the star spangled heavens and the broad sash of the Milky Way.

7:30am, and we took a quick splash-and-dash wash at the toilet block where cold water was the only option. The heads to the hot taps had been removed, presumably in the interests of economy. Ever the careful camper, I had brought a spare queen air mattress with us and pumped that up in place of the other, ready for the next night. Indeed, a scan of my car truck would reveal a spare six-man tent should canvas have become a problem too.

A short drive south took us to the family-run Aucoin bakery for buttered scone (with a knob of butter ‘harder than the knockers of hell’ according to Susan!) and a more dignified apple turnover for me, all washed down with coffee. By 9am we had driven twenty kilometers north on the Cabot Trail and had gained fifteen hundred feet of elevation from sea level. There we parked at the head of the Skyline Trail and set off on foot. There weren’t many other walkers and some of those I saw at least twice as I had to walk back to the car after ten minutes to collect my binoculars. I made the return trip at a light canter, slowing to a respectful stroll as I passed other hikers.

The trail heads steadily downhill until it breaks out of the tree line and rewards the walker with spectacular elevated views over the Northumberland Strait. A stepped boardwalk continues steeply further downward with platforms every hundred feet or so as far as a headland, standing some four hundred feet above sea level. There we sat and drank in the natural beauty of the Strait, the coastline and the towering tree-clad slopes behind.

Every so often a dark dot would appear way down below on the water. Fortunately ‘someone’ had trudged back for the binoculars so we were able to identify the heads of seals and the dorsal fins of a small school of dolphins. Some years ago, I saw whales there and heard their spouting but not today. The uphill walk back is tough until the slope begins to level but the round trip hike of six or seven kilometers is well worth it.

Back in the car we drove further north to Pleasant Bay where we came across the Bean Barn Cafe and enjoyed their lunchtime sandwiches. The nicely furnished and rather homey bathroom was of special note.

There seems to be significant funds available for road repairs in Cape Breton as we came across numerous stretches of road in various stages of remaking: some were milled, some part repaved and other ripped up entirely where we drove in dust clouds on loose sand and gravel for several kilometers (as two stone chips on my new car can testify to). We headed clockwise on the Cabot Trail stopping at lookouts and other exciting spots along the way, including a goat soap farm where appropriate petting was carried out, and the stunning Green Cove where giant, pink granite blocks are strewn in a tumble into the sea. Needless to say, Susan charged straight out, leaping in flip-flops from block to block over yawning chasms until there was nowhere left to leap but the sea. I took the more sensible route and slowed my pace as the crashing waves drew near.

All three hundred kilometers of The Cabot Trail duly driven, we cruised back into camp and took deckchairs down to the beach to watch the sun set again. A seal kept bobbing his little black head up so we played spot the seal head while watching nature’s spectacular end to daylight.

Mattress number two remained trampoline-like all night so we woke refreshed and ready to break camp. We took breakfast once more at the highly recommended Aucoin bakery and began the steady drive home, banging out a long, long playlist through the iPod. We chose to take the ferry back to the island which gave me a more restful day and provided yet more fun for us people-watcher fanatics. Coats on deck when it’s 26C; toupees plastered onto shiny scalps; sandals with socks; gigantic bottoms crammed into miniature latex pants... oh the hilarity!

Apart from one dealer registration plate, ours was the only PEI plate in the queues for the ferry. We saw Pennsylvania, Florida, New Hampshire, as well as all the Canadian Provinces bar Manitoba and Saskatchewan. Holiday season is clearly still in full swing.

Last on made us last of the three hundred-or-so cars off and back onto home territory. In no real hurry, we cruised the hour back to Charlottetown and ate a gorgeous takeout Himalayan curry for dinner before crashing out and dreaming of seals and tents and stars and sunsets.

Marco Polo land

This was our pitch at Marco Polo Land. We camped for three nights and enjoyed a mixture of sunshine and showers. I wrote more about it here. And on my photo site there are some of my photos from the weekend.

The Marco Polo was a three masted clipper built in St John, New Brunswick in the 1850s and named after the famed Ventian adventurer. It sailed the seas in a number of guises and indeed setting records before finally floundering on the north shore of Prince Edward Island. In death it gave its name to the the high ground upon which today's campground was eventually built.

Pictures on the other sites show me looking a trifle subdued. I'm afraid the combined stress of taking tots camping and the lousy weather took its toll.

camping in Algonquin National Park, Ontario

We drove a two thousand mile round trip to camp in Algonquin Park, Ontario. There are closer options of course but this gave us the chance to explore potential destinations for a possible permanent move off Prince Edward Island. With Maisie in the car we had to split the drive over two days, stopping over in hotels close to Quebec City both ways. Here is a selection of photos from the week.

We booked our pitch weeks in advance as spaces were already running out, so it was disappointing to find ourselves on a sloping noisy spot within sight of the road. Luckily the office was able to move us to a nice level site away from the road. For future reference, what's the point in booking a place when you can walk in and choose from some very nice non-reservable sites even in mid July?

The tent went up smoothly and I lit a campfire in the pit. We heaved out a mountain of gear which had been crammed into every corner of the small Kia. Soon we were sitting around a crackling blaze eating baked beans from mugs! Masie's demanding personality made things tough at times but on the whole she coped with life under canvas pretty well.

The Park is three and a half thousand square miles of forest wilderness with just a few camp sites on the one road which bisects it. The forest is home to large numbers of moose, beaver and black bear, not to mention over seven thousand species of insect, (most of them biting)! It truly is a spectacular place. The forest is almost impenetrable on foot but there are a dozen or so way-marked hiking trails which give a flavour of the typical terrain to be found: Hardwood forest, pine forest, lakes, marsh, rocky ridges and tree-clad mountainsides.

I hiked several of the longer trails and although bothered by swarms of mosquitoes, flies and other insects in this hot and humid environment, I was only bitten a few times thanks to liberal application of repellent. One morning we took an early drive along the only road which snakes up and downhill through the park and took pictures of a moose grazing at the roadside. Sadly two dozen of these animals are ploughed down by cars and trucks each year in Algonquin alone.

Our seven-day stay was cut short by heavy rainstorms and a forecast for more. We pulled up camp and started the long drive eastwards two days early. Had we been better equipped I think we could have held out but getting wet and muddy is no fun especially with an active one year old. Other more seasoned campers had as many as three tents on their pitch, with the whole assembly covered by a giant tarpaulin stretched between trees. Many people use a semi-transparent day tent for dining, living and to keep the bugs out. Next time we will take more equipment and not be beaten by mother nature.

As we drove away from the forest through small nearby settlements, reflecting on the week, I spotted a dark shape lumber up from the left ditch and shuffle quickly across the road. A large black bear close to civilisation and in broad daylight!

moose

I shot some video of a moose here.

Cape Breton

We have just returned from a week camping in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. Cape Breton is certainly wild and there is only one road running for about one hundred and fifty miles around the perimeter of the designated National Park zone - it is called the Cabot Trail and we toured it. As it was my first time camping you can guess what fun we had… We left PEI by car ferry and drove the roughly two hundred and fifty miles through Nova Scotia to stay in the wilderness at the northern end of Cape Breton. It reminded me a lot of the foothills of the French Alps. In winter the scant local population is completely cut off. There are only a few small villages and very few shops – just the occasional general store.

The area is a protected wildlife preserve of more than four hundred square miles. There are wolves, black bear and moose as well as American bald eagles and golden eagles. We heard wolves baying one morning and saw a female moose deep in the woods one day. Another day we saw a second moose, it was close enough to sound like an elephant as it tramped through the undergrowth but everywhere was so dense that I caught only a glimpse despite it being very close. Luckily we encountered no bears!!

One morning we took a whale-watching cruise from a small fishing village in Bay St Lawrence. We were taken out to open ocean on a forty foot fishing boat by an experienced captain of Irish decent. He had a great dark sense of humour. We saw some seals but sadly however no whales. I had better luck perched high on a one thousand foot mountain with my binoculars from where we saw several pods of pilot whales. Another time I saw distant water spouts they were blowing up. I took some video footage but it is too far away to see real detail. Nonetheless it was a superb experience and not a sight likely to be seen in the English Channel!

The weather was awesome for us – in the twenties every day and not a cloud in the sky. How about that for September! I bought a decent tent (Woods EZtent) that pops up like an igloo in about ten seconds, then you just spend a few minutes installing the fly-sheet and hammering in the pegs. The new air mattress was very comfortable too. We had two lanterns and were really quite cozy.

However the sleeping bags we borrowed were useless. Although burning by day, the night time temperatures were low. After our first night shivering at just three degrees we visited a camping store and bought a very big bag for ninety dollars which is meant to be warm even at minus seven. It proved to be incredibly warm although a slight squeeze! I also bought a stove to take with us so we had eggs for breakfast and soup or beans for dinner. Lunch was usually sandwiches taken with us on our daily hikes.

We moved camp three times but spent the last three nights in a row at the same pitch which was much more convenient. We stayed at a tiny remote site right by the Atlantic Ocean - see the above photos. The crashing waves were great to go to sleep to. There were only four or five other tents there.

Every night I lit a fire in the pit provided. I managed with paper and kindling wood even in the wind! When it was alight we burned several large logs each evening. We needed the warmth by about 7pm and also it kept the dreaded mosquitoes and flies away effectively. Aren't the stars unbelievably bright that far from modern civilisation? One guy from Ontario had a big telescope with him. He set it up and we looked at Jupiter and its moons. Seeing our own moon was fascinating too. Only a part of it would fit in the screen – you had to scan around to view it all! My interest in astronomy has been well and truly rekindled. (I feel a significant purchase coming on!)

On our final night the wind rose to a fierce gale. The people next to us were away all evening and while gone their tent was wrenched off its pegs and blown over the short cliff. Another camper retrieved it from the small rocky beach and the telescope man from Ontario helped put it back up. When the people got back they took it down and slept in their car! We hardly slept that night, our own tent was regularly flattened under the high wind but having flexible poles it regained its shape. Luckily the pegs held firm.

On the night of my fiftieth birthday we stayed in a Motel which I had pre-booked. That evening we found the only restaurant for miles around and ate there. Our portions were huge and I ate quite a lot of Michelle's too! The restaurant had previously been a General Store and the owners had collected a lot of fishing and domestic memorabilia to decorate the walls and ceiling. There was of course the ubiquitous set of moose antlers!

All good things come to an end and we drove home after a week still wanting more. Next year perhaps a long ferry ride to Newfoundland...