A day trip from Halifax to Peggy’s Cove was the first port of call at our second port of call on our cruise around the world. I’d still say it was one of the best days of the entire four month trip, partly because of the beauty of Nova Scotia and partly thanks to the joy of stepping foot on dry land.
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It took us six days to roll up and down the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, all the way from England, to Canada. We’d clung as close to the coast of Ireland as we possibly could, in an attempt to dodge the worst of the winds, but eventually the crossing had to start and we were plunged headfirst into choppy waters.
Considering that I’ve been working at sea on and off for around ten years, and having cumulatively spent around seven of those years physically living on actual ships, you’d think I’d have gotten over my seasickness by now. But nope. Once the rolling starts, the constant feeling of nausea and extreme drowsiness are hard to shake. For a day or two, it’s just about manageable. But six days straight is torture. We were sailing from Weymouth, England to Halifax, Canada. (One of my Ukrainian colleagues wondered why it would take seven whole days to travel from England to Scotland, but he’d confused the province of Nova Scotia- ‘New Scotland’- for actual Scotland. We’ve all been there.)
You might think that choppy seas mean stormy weather, but in actual fact the sun shone almost consistently. For several days in a row I forced myself to make the wobbly walk from my windowless metal cabin at the front of the ship, all the way to the covered crew deck at the back. A blast of icy fresh air and a view of the horizon is a great calmer for seasickness. Kate, Connor and I sat in a row wrapped in coats and hats, watching the sunlight catch frothy crests that reached all the way up to the railings in front of us. The ship was a bubble in a spirit level as the horizon dipped and ducked around us. Connor made the most of it by rolling with the ship from side to side, across tables and chairs in a sort of comedy rough sea skit. (Also a great cure for seasickness. Embrace the movement and turn it into a form of entertainment.) For at least five days I ate a diet consisting of 85% dry bread rolls, and the majority of the passengers confined themselves to their cabins, and the guarantee of a bathroom. Very wise.
I’ve crossed the Atlantic Ocean twice before, but both times had been returning from the Caribbean, so maybe further south means calmer seas. Or maybe we were just lucky. In any case, pals, I don’t think I’ve ever been so overjoyed to step onto dry land as the chilly November day that we reached Canada.
Docking in Halifax
The sky was a cool light blue and the air was chilly, but oh my goodness me what a day we were about to have. What a time to be alive! I hate cold weather with a passion, but I wrapped up warm in hat, coat and scarf with a feeling of absolute joy. We practically skipped down the gangway and out of the terminal building.
“Everything is so Canadian here! That bench is so Canadian! These trucks are so Canadian!! This bin is so Canadian!”
I’ve even been to Canada before, but it’s quite fun to arrive somewhere and declare that mundane everyday objects are somehow unique. Also, they often are, quite frankly. Connor declared within two hours of stepping foot on Canadian that he would definitely move here. I totally get it.
A brief interlude for the story of the Japanese jazz kissa
It was still early morning and the wide streets were quiet in the autumn air. We needed a coffee shop near Halifax port, so we headed to Rooms Coffee to warm up and declare that the coffee shop was so Canadian. Actually, Rooms is a little bit Canadian and a little bit Japanese. The casual, cozy room is all dark wood, exposed pipework and vinyl records, inspired by Japanese Jazz Kissas of yesteryear.
What’s a jazz kissa, I hear you ask!? Well that would be a coffee-shop-cocktail-bar-Hi-Fi-listening-lounge kind of a space. But instead of the music playing in the background, the music is the focus. Jazz Kissas first sprang up in Japan in the 20s and 30s, then had a huge resurgence after the Second World War. Records were expensive, and live concerts were rare, so music lovers would go to a kissa to listen to the latest music for the price of a drink. Eventually the popularity of jazz kissas tapered, but there are still some left, and the owner of Rooms Coffee was inspired by a trip to Japan to create his own version at home in Canada. There are now several locations in Toronto as well as Halifax. I can confirm that the music choice was 10/10.
What we saw of Halifax was beautiful, but we were actually headed out of the city. Peggy’s Cove was calling, and as soon as we’d discovered that there was no way to get from Halifax to Peggy’s Cove by public transport, we booked ourselves onto a Get Your Guide trip. When your hearts are set on Peggy’s Cove, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, you know?
From Halifax to Peggy’s Cove
The open road seemed to stretch away from Halifax across the Chebucto Peninsula forever, and the low pine trees that filled the landscsape all around us gave the oranges and browns of autumn a fresh pop of green in the November air. We were over the moon, ecstatic, borderline delirious to be on our way from Halifax to Peggy’s Cove, quite frankly.
“We love Peggy’s Cove!!” (We weren’t even at Peggy’s Cove yet, we could just feel it in our bones ,I suppose. Because we were right, we did love Peggy’s Cove. It was bloomin’ glorious.)
So what actually is Peggy’s Cove? Well, it’s a teeny tiny fishing village about 27 miles further down the Atlantic Coast from Halifax. When I say teeny tiny, I mean it. There are only around 30 permanent residents in this miniscule community, and although there are plenty of houses dotted along the road across the Chebucto Peninsula, the village still feels very isolated. Maybe that’s partly down to the lack of public transport; Canada is such an expansive country that transport connections between smaller communities aren’t as commonplace as in Europe. It’s very much a car-reliant kind of a place.
As we reached the coastline, the scenery began to change. Huge granite boulders peppered the flat landscape, and following the curve of the road colourful wooden cottages sat like dolls’ houses amongst the rugged rocks. This is one seriously pretty village. A wooden jetty stood in the tiny natural cove, with lobster pots stacked by the shore and fishing boats bobbing gently on the water. Rust coloured seaweed clung to the rocks.
The highlight of Peggy’s Cove is its little red and white lighthouse, which stands solidly on its granite shelf in the water. Although there’s been a lighthouse on this exact spot since 1868, the original was replaced with the current octagonal lighthouse in 1914. And pals, this little gem really is an icon: it’s one of the most photographed lighthouses in Canada, as part of Nova Scotia’s scenic Lighthouse Route.
As we travelled from Halifax to Peggy’s Cove during early November, the village was particularly quiet, with almost every restaurant or gift shop closed for business. The peak time to visit Nova Scotia is generally considered to be May-September when the weather is warmer, and this is especially the case on the wild coastline. The sea can get rough and icy; plenty of visitors have been swept away by the Atlantic waves as they stand on the rocks by the lighthouse. (So watch out, fellow Peggy’s Cove enthusiasts. Nature is powerful.)
Halifax and the Titanic
On the way back to Halifax, the driver took a detour. “Did you know about the Titanic cemetery?”
We did not.
“I’ll take you there and you can take a look around.”
Call me crazy, pals, but I have weirdly always been intrigued by graveyards. It’s the names and imagined lives on the gravestones, I think. Very Wednesday Adams of me, I’m sure you’ll agree. And our visit to Fairview Lawn Cemetery was oddly moving, particularly because we were visiting Halifax on a ship, as crew members.
When the Titanic sank in April 1912, the closest port city with rail links was Halifax, about 700 nautical miles from the disaster site. And although the survivors were taken to New York, the victims still needed a place to go. Out of more than 1500 lives lost, 337 bodies were recovered, and 209 were brought back to Halifax to either be returned to their families, or laid to rest in the city. 121 of these were buried at the Fairview Lawn Cemetery.
The headstones are arranged in the shape of a ship’s hull, and although some of them remain unknown, others show the names and birthplaces of their passengers or crew members. On a chilly November day, with crisp brown leaves underfoot, it was a sobering visit. I was glad that it didn’t feel at all like a tourist spectacle, although it obviously attracts a fair few visitors.
Nova Scotia, or New Scotland
Driving back into the city, we started to notice the many hints of Scotland around the city. Banners advertising ceilidhs or posters displaying bagpipes. Men wearing kilts. Okay, not literal people wearing kilts, but pictures of them. The majority of the men we saw were actually wearing plaid flannel shirts, because: Canada. Connor (who is himself a Scot), felt particularly at home.
Actually, about a quarter of Nova Scotia’s residents have Scottish heritage, and they still hold on steadfastly to their roots. Although the land was first inhabited by the indigenous Mi’kmaq people, it was declared a Scottish territory during the 1620s. (Classic. Although the Scottish only had one other real go at colonialism, in Panama, and it didn’t go well.) During the 1800s, migration from Scotland to Nova Scotia rose drastically as Scottish landowners evicted tenants from their Highland homes to make way for more lucrative sheep farms. Often the landowners would pay for tenants’ tickets to sail; and Nova Scotia retained its Scottishness. Och aye.
Oh Canada, how I love ya
We rounded up the day with a very chilled coffee and some lovely food at the waterfront back in Halifax. The Daily Grind was the very cozy spot of choice, and the people in there were so friendly that I wish it could become my new local. What a shame you can’t take an entire coffee shop back on board with you.
On the plus side, we ran into some of our lovely pal-colleagues outside Halifax’s cruise terminal, mysteriously gorging on a ginormous chocolate birthday cake. Prateek’s birthday had just taken place, and he’d met a family member in Halifax who had brought a cake with her to celebrate. “Tuck in, please!” We stood in the entrance ceremoniously shovelling handfuls of delicious cake into our mouths. What a delicious end to a delectable day.
I think I need to go back to Canada guys. There, I said it. The people are friendly, the scenery is grand, and the vibes are relaxed. Previously I’d only spent time in Toronto and Niagara, but this one day trip from Halifax to Peggy’s Cove sealed the deal for me. I love it here.
