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Realta Road – No place like home

Funny, how it seems like – no matter how long you’ve been away – you’ve never really left as soon as you return and cross the threshold into that familiar place called home.

Diana and I pulled into the drive at 3298 Cook Street Oct. 11, after catching the 3:15pm sailing from Tsawwassen to Duke point. Our son Ian greeted us, along with Sophie, our retriever, who has been hoarding all our shoes and slippers since we left as placeboes for our real essence. We waved hello to our neighbours across the street, but warned of our ‘radioactive’ state and promised to catch up once we’re fully recovered.

We’ll process our tsunami of cross-Canada memories and impressions in the coming weeks, but for the moment it feels good to simply be in the centre of gravity exerted by the place that is truly our own.

We’ve put off this final Realta Road 2022 update because we didn’t want people to know we were back right away. It’s taken a couple of days to feel we’re recovered enough from our illness. Our COVID tests came up negative, so we’re guessing it was an especially virulent flu… whatever it is, we don’t want to pass on.

Now that we’ve discovered so many amazing aspects to this country called Canada, we’ll have to rediscover Chemainus and see how everything fits into our new perspective. In that sense, the place we call ‘home’ is a sort of touch stone that we come back to again and again as we plan our next excursions out onto Realta Road.

(PS: One of Ian’s friends, whom I will never forgive, pointed out that the name of our RV is ‘Rialta’ not ‘Realta’. As far as I’m concerned some mistakes were simply meant to be, and our imagination on ramp merges onto Realta Road.)

Realta Road – Westward Ho!

A peaceful roadside stop on our homeward journey

If you don’t expect challenges, you’re not on an adventure. Since we dipped our toes in the Atlantic, near the tip of Newfoundland’s Western Peninsula, we’ve faced all kinds of challenges. It took us an extra week to get from Port aux Basques Newfoundland to North Sydney Nova Scotia, first because the ferries were fully booked, then after our departure date was cancelled due to bad weather.

Having rounded the Cabot Trail and made our way to Prince Edward Island, we learned that Hurricane Fiona was barrelling up the coast and we’d best get out of its way. A quick visit to Charlottetown was all we had time for, then we crossed the Confederation Bridge, heading inland.

News of the devastation visited upon the Maritimes – and especially Port aux Basques, which we had become quite familiar with – saddened and depressed us.

The weather has turned. First we were caught in more rainstorms, then yesterday we actually encountered the first sleet and snow… not enough to stick, but enough to remind us winter’s coming on.

Finally, Di and I are both sick. We don’t believe it’s COVID, but are avoiding public places as much as possible, and may have to cancel some planned visits. For a while we could barely speak, our vocal cords were so stressed from hacking and coughing, and we are both exhausted. The worst is over, I believe, but it’s been an ordeal.

Our objective now is to make for home. We’ve checked the weather forecasts along our route, and it looks like we’ll be able to get through the Rockies before the snow flies.

Despite the recent challenges, I wouldn’t change anything about our travels. It’s been a wonderful journey, and resulted in an expanded vision of Canada for Di and I.

Realta Road – Evidence of occupation

On Sept. 9 Diana and I hiked round the Crow Head trail near Port Saunders, NL. We were inspired by the beauty of the place, but disturbed by the amount of litter along the trail and on the beach. In my travel log entry I tried to sort out my feelings about the evidence of human occupation…

Port Saunders and Crow Head Walking Trail – We parked in Port Saunders, at the trailhead to the Crow Head Walking Trail. Again, Diana and I were amazed at the unfamiliar rock formations and the forest of ‘bonsai-ed’, windswept trees.

We were disturbed, however, by the amount of litter along the trail and on the beaches. It seems some don’t respect the land, that it’s there to be used and tossing candy wrappers and pop cans along the way is not a desecration.

I was inspired to take photos for a video I want to do titled Evidence of Occupation, the point being that, no matter how we behave, we humans are a part of nature. I want to – in a sense – beautify the rubbish and detritus of human occupation, thus making it part of the reality of our world, a natural phenomenon, even if I don’t like it.

UPDATE, SEPT 22: We arrived on Prince Edward Island on the 20th, and made our first stop a tourist information office. There we learned Hurricane Fiona is making its way up the eastern seaboard, tracking straight toward the Maritimes. We considered battening the hatches and weathering the storm, but learning that wind speeds of up to 160 kph were anticipated, and that the PEI ferry would be docked and Confederation Bridge almost certainly closed, we decided to make for safer ground while we could. We visited Charlottetown for the afternoon, then made our way back to New Brunswick. Now we’re in Fredricton, planning our route to Quebec City over the next couple of days. We’re disappointed, of course. We hope to return under more favourable conditions.

Realta Road – No basking in Port aux Basques

We enjoyed a brisk walk around the Grand Bay West loop in Port aux Basques yesterday afternoon. It was a cloudy, blustery day… more like the kind of weather I’d imagined on this rugged coast. Wherever we go in this region I see the elements of land, sea and air in contention, each asserting its own power. The wind drives on the sea, which surges into the land, and we puny mortals are caught up in the midst of it all.

The sandy beaches at Grand Bay West were deserted, the colourful chairs in disarray, as if they had been abandoned suddenly. In the centre of the loop, an antique harrow atop a hayfield hill, a seeming testament to the challenges of farming in Newfoundland.

Now we’re aboard the Blue Puttees, lurching our way toward North Sydney and the recommenced start of our trip back to the West Coast. We first tried booking our return crossing for Monday, Sept.12, but couldn’t get a spot until Thursday, Sept. 15. That sailing was cancelled due to high winds, and we couldn’t get another booking until today. We’ve lost a full week and will have to redo our travel plans if we want to be back in Chemainus by the third week in October.

Realta Road – Saint Anthony

More stories in the Realta Road Collection

Our day in Fishing Point Park has made up for all the frustrations and doubts we racked up in the long drive to the north tip of Newfoundland. It’s a fantastic setting, made perfectly accessible by a network of gravel and boardwalk trails, which radiate out from the parking lot. Foaming waves lunging at the cliffs and rocky shores overwhelmed imagination from the moment we stepped out of the Realta. I got so excited capturing photos and composing descriptions of the scene in my head, that I lagged behind while Diana marched on, so we were separated for most of the time.

After taking in the sea level view, I trudged up the 476 steps to the top of a cliff overlooking Saint Anthony harbour. What a view! The thrashing coastline stretched on for kilometres beyond the tiered houses and buildings of Saint Anthony. Instead of soaring overhead gulls wheeled and glided below me. I texted Diana, Daniel and Ian a picture of the panorama, and a message saying ‘Don’t know if I’m ever coming down.’

Eventually I did, and Diana and I went for lunch at the Lightkeepers Seafood Restaurant, which I would highly recommend to anyone looking for an off-the-boat fresh meal.

Realta Road – Newfoundland bound

North Sydney to Port aux Basques is a cultural transit

Getting lost and finding a new perspective at Flat Bay, NF

A frustrating first full day in Newfoundland. We decided to get off the Trans Canada, and go along the coast as much as possible, our first destinations, Stephenville, then Corner Brook. We kept getting lost, though. First we came to a dead end down Route 403, which takes you into Flat Bay.

Even our navigational errors have lessons to teach, however. At the T-intersection, where the road branches east and west into the Flat Bay reserve, we came to a church and graveyard. Attracted by the flowers placed at just about every headstone, we stopped to get a closer look. It was like no other cemetery we had seen. These were not the graves of the forgotten! Shrines to relatives and ancestors, they were adorned with bunches of flowers, statuettes, solar lanterns, and words of remembrance.

We drove into the community, talking about the differences between this First Nation burial ground and what we’re accustomed to as European descendants. The graveyard reminded me how much we Europeans have to learn from aboriginal peoples about what it means to be a member of a community – a tribe. Indigenous cultures have ‘elders’, those who are the living repositories of the tribe’s wisdom and its honoured advisors; we shuffle our old folks into homes and, as often as not, forget about or belittle them even before their last rites have been pronounced.

The evolution of European society through the industrial revolution and its precedents, has atomized citizens, breaking down the tight social bonds that continue to hold together indigenous communities.

Is one path better to the other? It’s pointless to answer in those terms. I believe European and First Nations cultures can learn from one another, but that the benefits of sharing perspectives can only be realized in respectful, caring relationships. The genocide that took place in North America during the colonial era was justified by a dehumanization of indigenous peoples. That was a lost opportunity as well as an immoral blunder, which will require generations of work at Truth and Reconciliation heal.

Realta Road – Sydney Reminisce

This story is part of the Realta Road collection
You can never, whatever you do
Set foot in the same brook twice.
All that you see is new,
Another roll of the dice.

When I was a kid we spent every summer vacation in Sydney, Nova Scotia. Two dogs, four kids, Mum, Dad and all the gear we’d need for camping, packed into our Ford station wagon for three days on the road.

Until yesterday it had been more than five decades since I visited 99 South Bentick Street, the paternal seat of our branch of the Spence clan in North America. So I suppose it’s not surprising things have changed.

What did surprise me though was how much my memories of things that haven’t changed all that much in all that time were so distorted.

The scene of our childhood adventures, a brook that ran through a ravine where South Bentick dead ended, isn’t much more than a ditch. And all the ghosts have fled the cemetery farther up the ravine, the spooky setting of our horror stories.

Some of the change is real, however. The address of my grandparents’ house is no longer 99 South Bentick…  to anyone but me that is, and probably my siblings. I won’t go into the complex details, but the ancestral mansion is now in the 400 block. And it’s no longer clad in green shingles with white trim; it’s siding is vinyl, like most other houses on the street.

Venturing farther afield I found myself in a town that mixes elements of things remembered with sights I never could have imagined. A gigantic cruise ship was docked in the harbour, where we sometimes ventured as children. And at the end of the boardwalk – which didn’t exist in our world – ‘the ‘world’s biggest fiddle’ awaits.

A walk on the wildfowl side

Diana and I took an immediate liking to our last stop in New Brunswick, Sackville. We have noticed at several points along the way – Sherbrooke QC for example, and more recently Wolfville, NS – that small university towns like Sackville make for a lively cultural mix.

The blend of academia and the day-to-day activities of the surrounding communities, plus the more youthful presence of students, adds to the town cores. Cafés, bookstores, and the choice of community events is influenced by a constant flow of newcomers to the scene, most of them young and looking for opportunities to gather and shop.

The tree lined streets of Sackville and it’s 19th and early 20th Century architecture made us feel very much at home. But the most amazing feature of the town for a tourist is its Wildfowl Sanctuary. Too bad we visited at the tail end of the season, when many birds had already passed through on their migrations. Even so, the kilometres of boardwalks and trails through this marshy habitat make for a marvellous, easygoing hike.

Enticed by an island world

August 26, 2022 / Grand Manan, NB

A fog horn, sounding from the north, warned that we would be socked in today, and when we awoke it was so thick we couldn’t see the houses across from Tim and Nadine’s cottage on Red Rock Road, where the Realta is parked. Grand Manan is a place I would love to live. About  30 km from tip to tip, the Island is a world unto itself and our hosts introduced us to some of its landmarks and attributes during our two day visit.

The first characteristic we noticed, Grand Manan shares with Mainland New Brunswick: friendliness. For example, when we were disembarking from the ferry one of the crew members tapped on the Realta’s window and returned my camera lens, which had popped off on the vehicle deck and got lost after we’d boarded. She’d gone up the line showing it to disembarking passengers until she found us.

We’ve encountered that kind of friendliness at just about every turn since entering New Brunswick. It’s a truly Maritime spirit.

But Tm and Nadine caution about another side to relations between born and bred Grand Mananers and those who come ‘from away’. They are slow to accept newcomers as true islanders, so their kindness is tempered somewhat. I can’t help believing though, that anyone who loves the place and gets involved in community activities, would be welcomed, even if as a foreigner.

Yesterday we hiked to Ashburton Head at the north end of the Island, a place named after one of the many shipwrecks that have occurred along Grand Manan’s coast. From there we marvelled at the prospect of the Bay of Fundy, looking down, way down on curious seals and gliding gulls.

Then we hiked a segment of Grand Manan’s west coast, which skirts the towering escarpments overlooking Grand Manan Channel and Dark Harbour, which we drove down to afterward. An isolated fishing enclave, its residents make do without power or running water, their cottages built on stilts, dories pulled up on the shore.

We ended up lounging on the beach at Long Pond Cove, absorbing the afternoon sunshine and the slow creep of a fog bank up the beach.

This morning we took a run down to Southwest Head, where once again we peered down at ocean, this time from towering basalt cliffs.

Now we’re aboard the Grand Manan Five, making for Blacks Harbour and St. John. Waiting for the boat, and embarking, we talked about the pros and cons of moving to Grand Manan Island. I’m tempted, inspired by the diversity and wonder so clearly defined by an island 30 x 7 kilometres in extent. Oddly, it exerts a sort of homing instinct on me, even though I’d never seen the Grand Manan before this visit!

Realta Road – Stewart & Miao’s vows

August 20, 2022
Knowlton, QC

Way back in June we had decided to postpone our Realta Road trip, feeling the COVID era was not quite over, and that we wanted to focus on a book we are publishing, Flibber T. Gibbet, A Chemainus Adventure on the Hermit’s Trail.

Then we got an email inviting us to the wedding of my brother Stewart and (now) sister-in-law Miao. The scale tipped, the wire was tripped, we loaded up and pointed the Realta east.

You have to know Stewart and Miao to know what greeted us in Knowlton QC August 19, the day before the BIG day. Chaos, improv, laughter, good food, great companionship, and a whole lot of wonderful experiences that proved our decision to have been of sound mind, even if it didn’t make sense.

Then came the wedding. It was a great day that blended humour with ceremony and too many memorable moments to describe here. Believe me, the video only tells a minuscule part of the story!