St Mary's Bay
With gas prices being what they are, and the desire for a bona fide visit with my friend from Dieppe, near Moncton, New Brunswick, I crawl into the backseat of the vehicle belonging to her male friend. She can't quite call him a boyfriend. It was never meant to be that clear cut. It was a pandemic boredom thing. But, here we are for a week together. And due the precarious nature of their connection, I leave him un-named. But, splitting the cost of gas three ways feels advantageous, and I let go of autonomy for the cost savings.
Once at the home of my friend's Nova Scotia pal and our host along St Mary's Bay, between Digby and Yarmouth, I choose the tent-in-the-backyard option--for privacy, quiet, and a balance between social and solitude. A row of trees shades my tent from too much hot daytime sun, and by the time I retire each day for the night, evening dew has already coated the outside my tent fly with moisture. Clearly, or not so clearly, due to the daily fog settling in over shoreline behind the tree-line.
My friend plays tour guide, because she has specific things she wants to do and see, but also because her male friend doesn't have any inclinations, and I am enjoying not having to make any decisions. Going along for the ride feels like a break. I am happy to see what there is to see, and do what there is to do.
Not wanting to burden our host during his daily routines, we linger in conversation over breakfast at the house, then head out for the day, initially exploring what is nearby, then radiating farther and father away on our day trips.
The Festival
We have specifically come for a music festival in the county of Clare, with its history of Acadien roots. Acadien flags fly from houses, cover roofs, and wave from passing vehicles. During my time in Louisiana, I have learned much about the Acadien deportation from Nova Scotia to other points. The first wave of Acadiens, pushed out by the Loyalists who themselves were driven from the newly emerging Thirteen Colonies of the United States, settled along the eastern seaboard states of the US. I have since learned that another voluntary wave made its way farther south to Louisiana, in search of free land (hah!, swamp) and to locate lost family members.
Most evening events have already sold out (like the dinner theater event, where I assume all those step dancers will be stepping away on stage), so we buy tickets to what we can, find our way to free events, and spend our days continuing to explore the region.
Most evening events have already sold out (like the dinner theater event, where I assume all those step dancers will be stepping away on stage), so we buy tickets to what we can, find our way to free events, and spend our days continuing to explore the region.
We decide on a square dance even that is for free--a dance lesson for the non-boyfriend, at least. He gives it a mediocre try to be ready for the evening dance: Louisiana Night. Louisiana Night featues Lafayette-based performers from Louisiana, who flew up just for this evening, for sure to get away from the sweltering heat down south. Our host offers dances to many women, and to my friend and I, as well. But, she and I can dance either the lead or the follow, so we two-step together to some lively tunes. |
Smuggler's Cove:
Ah, the history of pirates in the maritimes! As seductive is seems for us to get into the dark cave and search for treasure, we know, in our hearts, anything remaining would have been picked clean eons ago.
:
Digby Scallop Festival: all things scallop!
Digby Scallop Festival: all things scallop!
My Dieppe friend has attended many a pirate fest in these parts, has a closet full of pirate gear and clothing. She tells us, in this kind of heat, thirty pounds of heavy clothing and accoutrements make the wearer even hotter. She feels for this pirate lot today!
Other explorations:
We check out every park, eat out for dinners (good thing I saved on gas costs), and I even got a lesson on the Cajun triangle (tit fer, or T'fer) so I could participate in a house Cajun jam. Our host on guitar, my friend playing accordian, and her non-boyfriend drumming on a wooden box. My friend takes lessons when in Louisiana, and it is her hope to be able to speed up the few tunes she knows....someday. Right now, our joke stays with searching out Cajun tunes using only one accordian note! Have to get me one of my own for joining in on those Louisiana jams happening at every house party and advertised jams!
And in action: