A long nine hour drive today. We awoke to cold conditions but brilliant sunshine in Montmagny, a little later than I wanted. Our drive went north along the St. Lawrence, which became visible as we progressed. The wide river is indeed mighty. We saw wonderful vistas of rich farmland and more low rounded mountains.
New Brunswick is a vast rolling forest, immense and evocative of Duncan Campbell Scott's "Height of Land". The drive was excellent in every way: but the seemingly endless trail started to insinuate itself on me. I was tired, but happy. The road through New Brunswick was in good shape and I found that our car wanted to gallop: several times, I had to throttle back from 140 kph, the roads were that good and the Mounties were that scarce: but you never know ! We straddled the border with Maine, and several rivers, lakes and towns few by, nameless and unknown to us. We gained an hour somewhere in New Brunswick, but we didn't care. We wanted Halifax.
Finally, our third province of the day greeted us. Nova Scotia was mostly indistinguishable from New Brunswick at first. Then, as the sunlight glowed warmly into late afternoon, the hills grew smaller, the forest less dense, and some views of ocean at Nova Scotia's narrowest northern point met our gaze. A last sprint into Dartmouth, over the bridge peering down into the busy navy yards, and a climb to our musty, funky hotel. We enjoyed beer and food at the Brown Dog pub, met a lovely barmaid from Richmond Hill, and began to consider the approaching storm.
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