July 19, 2008

July 19, 2008

It is another cloudy rainy day in Nova Scotia. We drive most of the day southwest to the capital, Halifax. We park near the star-shaped Citadel but decide not to go in. I can’t say I am too interested in touring a fort built in 1856 to defend against American aggression. Instead we walk downhill to the waterfront. Except for the citadel all the buildings in Halifax are from post-1917 because during WWI a freighter full of explosives blew up in the harbor leveling the city. It was so massive that Robert Oppenheimer studied the blast for the Manhattan Project.

From Halifax we drive along the shoreline to the tiny fishing hamlet of Peggy’s Cove. Oh my gosh! Peggy’s Cove is a photographers’ nirvana. Everywhere you look is a postcard opportunity. The town is built on a slab of barren granite sticking out into the ocean with waves crashing on the rocks. A lonely lighthouse sits at land’s end. Next-door fish houses on stilts line a narrow cove containing gaily-painted boats. Hollywood could not have built a more perfect seaside village. Aimee is very patient while I snap dozens of photographs.

On our way to a campground just north of Peggy’s Cove we pass a memorial built for the crash of Swissair 111, which went down just offshore in 1998. It sounds familiar but Aimee and I don’t remember the details. But I guess that is why people build memorials. Finally at the RV park, we have a late dinner of snow crab legs that we bought earlier in the day.