Where are we?

Seriously. At four months (four months as of Saturday), this child is already well travelled. Three provinces, one night in a scary slasher motel (daddy isn't allowed to make the travel plans anymore) and waking up to new faces at every stop along our way to Ontario. And she has been AWESOME through it all. Her only revenge was to poop three times the first day on the road and twice on the second. I've become a real pro at the quick change on the back seat of the van.


Hank in the scary slasher motel our first night on the road. Our big joke was that Hank kept asking, 'Why do we live in the van now?' This room wasn't much bigger.

I gotta give a big high paw and puppy props to this guy, my good 'ole Hank. There was much fret and worry and back and forth about bringing him vs. boarding him and in the end, he came with. He too has been awesome. Hank has an issue or two, but he's coped remarkably well, much better than I would ever have imagined, so much so that I am really very glad that we brought him along. I thought that with a baby and a dog in tow, by the time we got here I'd have aged ten years and been driven to drink. I'm still driven to drink, but, ya know, for entirely different reasons.

I had hoped to put in a picture of some remarkable knitting progress at this point, as I brought a whole heaping bag of it, but after a few hundred kilometers, two outfit and five bib changes and constant chin wiping later due to a steady stream of milk phlegm and teething drool, I started to wonder why I even bothered. I did manage to crochet another bib on the trip, simply because I was worried I would run out of the stack I had handy in the car.

I do have about an inch or so completed on my Grape Hederas that I started before we left (Cookie A. pattern, Tanis Yarn in Grape), but since arriving, have not picked them up once. Busy busy busy. We hit the ground running most days. It's been lovely to see everyone so far. They will be plenty of time for knitting back in ye olde Nova Scotia I'm sure.

So it's taken me two solid days to compose and attempt to publish this post, what with running here and there and shoddy internet connection. So we'll end it here. Hope to have something fun to post for tomorrow though. Until later...

My Fellow Travellers...

I have had the extreme good fortune to have done a fair bit of travelling in my rather short time on this here earth. My dad was a pilot for Air Canada for thirty some odd years, so needless to say, I've been on a trip or two. In all my travelling experience, I've witnessed the same kinds of behaviours of my fellow travellers again and again, which I can only conclude stem from nervousness or an unfamiliarity with the whole notion of air travel. In an effort to serve the public, I would like to take the opportunity to pass along a few pearls of wisdom that I have gathered, in an effort to demystify the whole experience.

Lets start with security, shall we? You've now arrived at the airport, checked in, recieved your boarding pass.* (a boarding pass gives you access to the plane. It has such pertinent information as your flight number, the gate at which you will be boarding and perhaps most importantly, your seat assignment. You cannot go through security without a boarding pass. Nor can you get on the plane. It's a handy little piece of paper). You've checked your bags through and now are heading to the gate, which requires that you pass through security (that crack team of savvy motivated personnel) once and for all. First things first. Allow your relatives to go. I know it's hard, but let them go. You can write letters and make phone calls and send pictures. Hell, get Skype if you need to. There will be other opportunites for communicating with them. You're not travelling to another dimension. That being said, it's probably sufficient that only one or two of your friends or relatives drop you off. This is not the time nor the place for a family reunion.

Due to the fact that the world has gone completely bonkers in the last seven years (roughly), going through security at the airport is now a gigantic pain in the ass. Because we as human beings need to feel in control of our destinies, and because we can't really ever get a handle on things like global terrorism, I can only assume that having people take their shoes and belts off at airport security checkpoints and having them put their 'no more than 100ml' of hand cream in a plastic baggie is an effort to condense the madness down to a controllable level. There are a few things you, as a traveller, can do to alleviate that throbbing pain in your temple
when the minimum wage summer student that they've put on security duty asks if someone else has packed your bags for you.

First, don't put anything you care about in your carry on bag. And for the love of all that is good and holy, while I'm on the subject, realize what it is we all mean by carry on. A smallish bag only meant to be filled with things to entertain you from point A to point B. You needn't travel like a nomad.

Second, be polite and cheerful. Their job sucks, travelling sucks. We're all in this together. They likely know that all of these ridiculous 'security' measures are as ridiculous as we know they are. It's nothing personal and we all have to go through it. Don't get so bunged up about it. If you really paid as much as you say you paid for that make-up which is 101ml, you should've had the forsight to put it in your checked luggage. When in doubt, pack it.

Thirdly, please do not blame any particular ethnic group out loud for you having to wait in line at security. You'll simply stun those around you and possibly make your wait that much longer.

So now you've gotten through security and are on your merry way to the gate. Whew! Now you can just relax and take in the scenery. You may even want to indulge and get a $12.00 pre-wrapped stale sandwich. (aside; when I said earlier that you weren't travelling to another dimension, I may have been a little hasty. The airport is in a class all it's own. Be prepared for airport pricing, which may require you to take out a line of credit or to re-finance your mortgage if you intend to have lunch while waiting for your flight, because lord knows bringing a bottle of water through security is aiding and abetting global terrorism, but charging nearly fifteen dollars for a sandwich, a drink and a crap-ass bag of chips is in no way criminal).

Once you find your gate, have a seat. Take out a book, or in my case, some knitting and just wait. Every gate usually has a window. If you're a nervous traveller, or if it's your first time, I would suggest sitting near the window. Check outside from time to time. Until there is a large object out there with wings vaugely resembling a bird, there is no need to stand up, continually check with the desk agent, form a line, make enquiries with other passangers or just generally fret.
At this point, I really can't stress enough about forming the line. To the very first person who decides that they can themselves hurry this whole process along by standing at or near the desk I'd like to say this; the only thing you're accomplishing is making other people think that they are missing something and supposed to be in a line. There is that saying that 'nothing attracts a crowd like a crowd.' Well, in this case, nothing attracts a line like one person with some baggage. Trust me when I say that there is absolutely, positively no need for the line until one of three things has occurred.

1) The desk agent has announced the pre-boarding call and there is enough parents with young children or old people to warrant a small line.

2) The desk agent has announced the general boarding call, starting with the rows at the back of the plane to the middle.

3) The desk agent has announced the general boarding call for the remainder of the plane.

Those with enough money to fly first class never have to wait in a line. Bastards.

While sitting at the gate, you may hear the desk agent announce some passangers names. These you can completely ignore. You do not have to worry that they will call your name if you already have a boarding pass* (remember that from earlier?) with a seat assignment. The only people they are interested in talking to are those who are travelling stand-by. Stand-by is like a promisory note saying that you may get on the plane if by the miracle of overbooking and just plain odds, people don't show up. In that case, you can have their seat. Otherwise, you can park your butt and wait for the next Airbus out of town. If they call a name and it isn't yours, remain in your seat and continue to wait. There is no need to do a pre-emptory check at the desk to see if your name is next. They're not doing roll call and checking attendance for everyone on the flight.

So, to briefly sum up at this point, you should have a few facts down pretty hard. First, know your name. Second, have a boarding pass. Have a look at it and know where you're sitting. Again, if you've never flown before, this next piece of info might be of interest. As a matter of fact, this following tidbit may be the most important thing you'll ever need to know. Lets say your boarding pass has the seat assignment of 25B. You don't need to know what kind of aircraft you are flying on to know that the higher the number, the further back in the plane you are sitting. Here is where all that I have told you begins to come together and synthesize. If you have arrived at the gate, checked your boarding pass and are patiently waiting for things to unfold as they should, (because you know you should be reasonably confident that the people running the show know a little more about how to proceed smoothly than say, I dunno, you do) then we don't have a problem.

If however you've arrived at the gate, not seen an airplane attatched to the skyway (that little piece of the building which you walk down to get into the plane), have checked with the desk agent 800 times, don't know your name and have started an unnecessary line while holding a boarding pass that says 2A, please, when the first general boarding call is announced, have the common decency to step one step to the right and allow little old 25B here with her empty carry on and baggied Vaseline Intensive Care to proceed with haste and efficiency.

Thank you for travelling with us today, and enjoy your flight!

The Mini-Moon, Part Deux...

So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, the Keiths Brewery.

As I said, we poked our heads in and looked around the gift shop and decided to come back some other time, perhaps when it was a wee bit busier. We did sign the guest book though, and this is what we saw! Kinda funny.

After the brewery, we decided to head back in the direction of our hotel and hit Pier 21, once a place where many immigrants to Canada were processed through. Along the way, we stopped to take this photo. The little island in the background is called George Island and once housed a prison where many Acadians were sent, just becuase they were Acadian.
I didn't get a photo of the outside of Pier 21, but it's basically just a big building, so close your eyes and picture it for yourselves! Inside there were plenty of interesting things to see, namely immigrant papers and displays of personal accounts. Naturally, we were drawn to anything Dutch. Makes it a little more personal when you're only one generation removed from immigrants (that would be Mark by the way). I'm pretty sure my relatives just emerged from the soil, they've been here so long.

A passport?

A breakdown of where the largest numbers of immigrants came from. Fourth place isn't bad!

Me, a newly landed immigrant myself.

The title of this just made me laugh. The write up is pretty funny too.

Another display of someone's personal effects.

The Pier didn't take too long to browse through and by the end of our little tour, I was pretty tired. There was one more stop to make though. Right across the street from Pier 21 was a microbrewery called Garrison. It was quite small, so we checked it out. All the kettles and other goings on were visible through big glass walls. They offered five tastings for three bucks, so after a lot of fresh air and on an empty stomach, I was feeling rather tipsy.

This is what happens to your perspective when you spend two weeks doing little other than drinking and driving. Not at the same time though. Driving during the day, stopping to drink. My husband is a cop now. We don't do those types of things. Any more.
Garrison doesn't use any preservatives in it's beer, so the taste is rather smooth and clean. It also doesn't last very long apparently, which makes me think that we should finish up the rest of that six pack tonight.

To cap off our lovely stay in Halifax, we dined at McElvies that evening, known apparently for their seafood. Really, what around here isn't known for it's seafood? Some of you reading this may know that while I am a big fan of shellfish, I abhor swimmy fish. I think they're the most evil creatures on this planet. That being said, I'm pretty sure I'm in the wrong province. I'm endeavouring to do my best though.

This is me in the midst of enjoying my seafood chowder until I came upon a gigantic chunck of salmon, of which only a tiny portion is on the spoon. This is my game face people. I did at least try it. And yep, still hated it. I fished out the rest of the salmon and gave it to Mark. The rest of the meal was outstanding.

And thus, the conclusion of the mini-moon. Mark and I waddled back to the hotel and I fell asleep watching tv. Ah, married life.

We're now in Liverpool, have been for a few days now. It's nearly noon on Saturday and we're still in our jammies, with nothing really on the go accept enjoying our last couple of days obligation free.

More about becoming Liverpudlians another day. Until later...

The Mini-Moon...Part One

So we decided to chill in Hallyfax for two nights, just for a bit of fun between the stress of moving and the stress of the rest of our lives. I'm really glad we did, cuz we've had a really nice time. We've called it the mini-moon, since there was no time for a real honeymooon.

Yesterday started with breakfast at Cora's....mmmmmmm, Cora's.

If you've never been to or heard of Cora's, it's a smallish Canadian chain of breakfast and lunch restaurants, started in Montreal in 1987. The first one only held 29 people, but by 1991 had already served a million! (this is all off the placemat). One of the unique features of Cora's are these arty fruit piles you can get. See, you get this big pile of fruit and they make it look really cool. My breakfast in the photo there doesn't even come close. Still, the fruit was really tasty, as I believe it's the first fruit I've had in a few weeks!

After breakfast we hit a knitty shop in the area. I didn't get a photo, but Mark was nice and patient with me as I went around and pet all the skeins and talked to them and asked them if they would like to come home with me. Unfortunately, they were all snobbish and told me that they were too expensive to be brought home by me, so I bought some less uppity items and we were off.

Next stop was the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic.

It's the builing in the background with the blue sign with the white flags.
It's March Break out here right now so there were kids everywhere, but it wasn't overwhelming, so we checked it out. They had pirated themed exhibits, which were pretty cool. We got pirate tattoos with the price of admission!

This was one exhibit I was pretty interested in though...
Not in the Leo DiCapprio/Kate Winslet kind of way, but for the fact that despite all of the Hollywoodization of the event, it really did happen and not all that far from here.

Maritime history has always facinated me, as do shipwrecks for some odd reason. Maybe it has to do with folklore and the mythology of hauntings etc. In any case, from way back when, the story of the Titanic has had me hooked.

These exhibits give a very personal viewpoint of how Halifax and Nova Scotia were involved in the recovery and burial of those lost at sea.

A deck chair from the ship.

A poster advertising the return voyage of Titanic from New York. Ooops!

For these prices, I still would've taken a chance.

This exhibit I thought was super interesting. Some people involved in the recovery would take items that they found, such as table legs or other wooden objects and then make something else out of them, such as a rolling pin or a cribbage board. They would then keep these retooled items as keepsakes or rememberances and hand them down for generations. Very interesting.

I love this photo, and here's why. I really just caught Mark in the middle of a sentence. He was reading something off of the museum guide, but it looks as though I'm really enjoying the museum tour and Mark is really not!

Though we saw lots of cool stuff at the museum, the exhibit that effected us the most was the Halifax explosion exhibit. It wasn't terribly big, but really quite sad. These poor people had no warning at all. It is termed the largest man made explosion prior to the atomic age.

This was the dress of a little girl who survived the explosion. She grew up and raised a family of her own and passed away in 1997. She was wearing this dress, one that her mother had made for her, the day of the explosion. It still bears blood and soot stains.


After the musuem, we toddled back in the direction of the hotel and poked our noses into the Alexander Keiths Brewery. Didn't take the tour, thought we'd save that for some lucky group of visitors.

I see this post is taking on quite a life of it's own. I'll adjourn here for now and pick it up later to finish off the mini-moon tour. Until later!

Road Stories; Day Four...

Day Four...

Well, the drive from Fredericton to Moncton, NB yesterday was a little quiet. Lets just say we had some 'misunderstandings' when leaving the Amsterdam Inn that didn't quite blow over until we were just outside of Moncton.

A few observations about New Brunswick....there's no one there!!! Small pockets of communities between vast, wide open spaces. Fredericton smelled funny too. We didn't really stop in Moncton, just bypassed it. We stopped somewhere to grab a Subway sandwich and a Timmies coffee, (both chains in abundance out here, thank goodness) and then we barrelled onto Nova Scotia.


Here we are having just crossed into our new home province of Nova Scotia. We stopped at the visitors centre for a brief photo opp. This is how I like photos of myself...from far away! I look very svelt.


Another itty bitty me standing under our new provincial flag. Mark and I are both fond of it already.

We made it into Halifax around five pm or so and had the damndest time finding a hotel, simply because we don't know the area and the roads were a little funny. We had speced a few out, but our first choice was way the hell in studentville, so we decided to bite the bullet and blow our budget on a place near the harbour. We chose the Westin hotel, which was a bit of a mistep on our part. No harbour views, which we think is due to the fact that we're paying a gov't rate. A note to travellers at this point; just ask for a government rate. So far, Mark has not been asked to show any kind of ID. Not once.

No complimentary internet access. It's ten bucks for 24 hours worth. This is a little hard to swallow considering that back at ye olde Amsterdam Inn, the rate was $80.00 and the access was free. Also at the Amsterdam Inn, they had a binder full of DVDs (how cute!!) that you could choose from, which were also free. Our room there was on the ground floor with a door leading outside and a free continental breakfast. Here at the Westin, you get a paper delivered to your room. If you refuse the delivery, they charge you fifty cents. WTF? Movies here are $13.99. I know, I know, we're in the city, right on the harbour, what can you expect. But seriously. There was something else that Mark was grumbling about last night, but I've since forgotten. It's nearly ten am and he's still dead to the world, so I think we'll just keep it that way for a while! Poor guy...he's pretty tired.

Anyhoo, didn't explore much of Halifax last night other than the inside of the NSLC (Nova Scotia Liquor Control, I'm assuming, since it was the liquor store). That is actually the one nice thing about the Westin...its right next to the liquor store and the Superstore.

We went on a hunt for a decent restaurant and settled on The Henry House just up the street. Very Englishy kind of pub. Quite small and cozy and the food was awesome. The drink wasn't too bad either.

Just ask Mark...he tried them all! It was a bit of a brew pub, so Mark had the sampler. Of all of the selections, including bitters, darks, and ales, he liked something called 'the peculiar' the best. There was a bit of a write up on it, something to do with a 'lunatic brew'. I was already three quarters of the way through my black and tan at this point, so I have very little recollections of this.

I had the lobster fettucine, which means I am now no longer a lobster virgin. Until last night, that sweet succulent crustacean had never crossed my lips. And mmmmm mmmm, is it tasty! I had my reservations about cooking one myself, as you have to cook it live, but perhaps I could get over it.


Mark playing in the Zen garden in the hotel lobby on our way back from dinner.

Today, if or when Mark ever wakes up, we're going to explore the city a bit, or at least whatever is in walking distance. It's another beautiful day and the less time in the car today the better.
Catch up with y'all later!

Road Stories; Day Three...

Day Three...

Just so you don't get the wrong impression, I have done some driving. I drove 60k on Saturday before I felt really sleepy and needed to pull over so that I could switch with Mark and have a nap.

So this post isn't so photographically interesting as we just drove and drove and drove (shocking). We headed out from Montreal around eleven am and made it to Fredericton by around nine pm local time. We kept on keepin' on so that we could have an extra night in Halifax and perhaps have an opportunity to get out of the damn car and actually see something. This trip is a real learning experience. You get to know yourself quite well. Here's something I've learned (and I'm sure Mark has learned as well) about myself. I'm good in the car for about six, maybe seven hours. Definitely not eight.


Here we are about half way through Quebec. Quite a pretty province actually. Very much how I had pictured it, moreso the closer you get to New Brunswick. Small little logging towns with homes clustered in small groups. There's a beautiful church in the centre of every town and you can see the steeples for miles. I found it very quaint and peaceful actually. I also saw a quilt hanging on a clothesline. I got very excited about that. And yes, the quilt was beautiful.


Me doing a little Trans Canada knitting. I swore I wasn't going to do any sock knitting, but it's the only thing I know how to knit from memory, since reading and knitting in the car does tend to make me a little woozy.

I'm terrible with geography, so I was unaware that Quebec was so hilly, and that New Brunswick would be even hillier. So when the landscape started to change, I got a little excited.

BTW, Mark does not stop for photos. I wanted to get a shot of the sign between the border of Quebec and New Brunswick. I wasn't fast enough with the shutter. Too bad, so sad.


We saw many, many moose crossing signs, but no actual moose. Which is a good thing. When the speed limit is 110 km/h, you want a mooseless drive.

We arrived in Fredericton kinda late and unbeknownst to us, everything closes here at nine pm. We tried three restaurants before we finally settled on Boston Pizza which was open to the obscene hour of 1 am. I was about ready to have a melt down and after two beers and a full stomach, calmed down enough to apologize for my unladylike outbursts.

So we're sitting in the BP, having our dinner and there is a waiter talking to some friends of his near our table. He says something about RCMP, which we both pick up on immediately. We concluded that he was somewhere along the application process, so Mark decides to grab his attention on his way by so that he can flash his badge. The two chatted for a few minutes and Todd, who was quite friendly, informed us that he's wanted to be a mountie since junior high! In any case, we wished him luck and he was off. So I guess we were meant to eat at the Boston Pizza after all.

We stayed the night at the Amsterdam Inn, ironically enough. And yes, Mark picked it! It's a nice little place, apparently a chain of four hotels to serve you in the maritimes. There's pictures of tulips and dutch people all over the place. Love it!


Mark wigging out as we fight over hotels to stay at in Halifax.

Well lovelies, the continental breakfast is over soon and we need to freeload where we can. Catch up with later in Halifax with some more interesting photos!

Road Stories; Days One and Two...

Day One...

So here we are on our way!
After a little bit of internet difficulty, we are sitting in the business centre of the Sandman hotel in Montreal plotting our next course. Friday we got as far as Burlington to have a quick visit with A and J and K! We feasted on panzerotti's, beer and wine wherein yours truly passed out on the couch shortly thereafter.

Day Two...

Mark showing off his mechanic skills and fixes our craptastic wiper.

My perspective for the next four days.


We crossed into Quebec around six pm or so last night and arrivved at the hotel around seven thirty. It was dark and rainy and this hotel seems to be kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but it was the first one we saw so we veered off quite suddenly to catch it. Twas getting late and we were starving, tired and in need of alcohol. Not knowing where any of the restaurants were, we settled for the hotel bar for seven dollar pints and eleven dollar burgers! Lesson learned.
So far though, the trip is going quite well. Dry roads, clear beautiful sky on Friday and today and nothing but Trans-Canada ahead of us.
The plan is to make it to either Edmunston or Fredericton tonight and then onto Halifax tomorrow.
Oh yeah, I love this photos. Bad hair, huge zit, no make-up and after two sips of my Rickards Red, I look like I'm hammered.


One thing which we all know, almost to the point of it being a cliche, is that this country is big. Really big. Somehow it just doesn't register until you actually have to travel somewhere. And it doesn't matter whether it's by air or by land. Everything is far. And officially, this is the first time I've ever been in Quebec or driven anywhere outside of Ontario. What and adventure! I'm definitely going to learn to speak french at some point though. I've always been slightly embarassed that I live in an officially bilingual country and know little more than what's printed on the backs of packaging.

Well, time to get back on the road. Hopefully another update to follow this evening. Au revoir!