Halifax History (at the Citadel) to a St.FX dorm in Antigonish

The ride today was by far the best ride so far.  The weather was beautiful, and the roads were windy and gorgeous.  Halifax is a fairly cosmopolitan city, and two New Yorkers felt right at home.




 We hit the road sometime in the early afternoon, snaking around the coast before cutting up north.
 Canada is beginning to rub off on us, and our ride was relaxed, happy and everything a motorcycle trek should be.
 All along the roads locals (?) had carved out little scenic rest stops, where we would stop every hour or so to bask in the sun and tranquility and appreciate the topography change


 Route 7 turned northward, running through what seemed like (more) blue collar neighborhoods. After several hours, we rolled up to Antigonish (pronounced 'aynee-go-NISH').

Jay and I were both thoroughly happy with the day, the ride and with life when we arrived, and cruised through the center of an artsy looking college town.  When we parked and partially removed our gear to ask the locals about accommodations, we didn't get two hundred feet from our bikes when a woman named Kathy got up from her dinner to chase us down and ask us if we needed help.  Along with restaurant recommendations, she told us about renting a room for $30 on campus of St. Francis X, the massive catholic college in the center of town.

 After we checked into our room, we drove out to listen to live music and grab a beer, when Jay set me up to arm wrestle the fellow below.   I'm not a small guy, but Gary dispatched obliterated me.  Turns out he was a regional arm-wrestling champion in Canada and a great guy, despite the fact that we was quite visibly disabled.  I wasn't a sore loser though, and he showed me a bunch of techniques.
We made a few fast friends, including a gentleman named Keith, who used to help manage the English Under 21 national soccer team.  I was enthralled, as I'm a fairly fervent Arsenal fan, and on top of regaling me with stories of Jack Wilshere, Theo Walcott and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, he said his friend was one of the Arsenal physios, and would be happy to get me Arsenal tickets the next time I'm in London.

Next Day: Nova Scotia: Mile 1339

 © 2014 Tigh Loughhead

Bit of a late start this morning.  We checked out of Yarmouth at around 10:30, with warnings of thunderstorms from the hotel staff.  I had planned a leisurely, scenic coastal route (3) to New Brunswick, but as we rolled out of town the angry looking skies unleashed a torrential downpour for about half an hour, and we instead got on highway 103.

I had brought my frog suit, but Jay got a little soaked on his naked bike.
The skies eventually cleared up, and the roads were completely empty. Neither Jay nor I have seen a traffic cop to date (I don't think there are any in Nova Scotia?)
We left Lunenberg around 4 and the skies opened up again, drenching both of us to the core.  At last we finally got to Halifax.  We rolled up downtown as the rain finally stopped, and wandered around until against our better judgment, two wet disheveled, tired bikers (in full riding gear) wandered into a classy looking Italian restaurant called La Fresca. to soggily ask for a beer.

We've had amazing luck with Canadian hospitality and generosity so far, and we struck up a conversation with a lovely lady at the bar Stephanie, who turned out to be the proprietor. The bartender and hostess went out of their way to help us with plans, directions, and even called around to negotiate hotel rates on our behalf.

Next Day: Nova Scotia: Mile 1142

© 2014 Tigh Loughhead