What I Miss Doing
For the first years I had a car, I was always going on road trips. I’d spend weekends in Moncton or Fredericton or Saint John, or longer in Montreal or elsewhere. I would average 30,000+ kilometres a year; these days I’m lucky if I clock in 10,000.
One thing I used to do a lot when not travelling outside the province was to “do a nowhere” within the province.
I loved nowheres, and Poupoune loves them to this day. As she says, “Nowhere is a great word and a great concept. You can say it ‘now here‘ or ‘no where‘. Either way it’s about escaping.”
They say one cannot be more than 35 miles from salt water in Nova Scotia. That makes sense if you look at a map. Driving from Yarmouth (Southwestern shore) to Sydney (northeast Cape Breton) may take 8 hours, but crossing from the north to the south of the mainland takes about 1 hour or less. More interesting, however, is the diversity of the landscape — from the rugged shore of the Atlantic to the apple orchards of the Annapolis Valley overlooking the Bay of Fundy which is reputed to have the highest tides in the world.
I loved taking off on a weekday evening or a Saturday or Sunday afternoon and go “nowhere,” that is, driving around without a map and following one country road after another to see where each would take me. Some places are hard to imagine as being in the same province as Halifax. Yet rare are the places I found that were downright butt ugly, although no one would catch me dead living in any of those places.
For a host of reasons ranging from the cost of gas to a lack of time, not to mention that I’m not inclined to trust Homomobile, I’ve stopped going on nowheres. But I realize that I miss these little impromptu road trips. I really ought to make some time for them again this spring.