The final leg of the journey
Halifax has an interesting way of marking their routes. Incoming traffic is continually channeled in directions other than those one wants to go. The result is that a tourist is continually trying to decide which way to go next. In contrast, an outward bound traveller has routing signs every few hundred metres; the only way to get lost while leaving the city is to close your eyes. Hardly a recommended driving school technique.
With that lesson in navigation learned, we were safely on the road to Upper Canada (or is it Lower; I wasn’t very good in high school history). The only oddity is a tollbooth, somewhere between Truro and Amherst that makes little economic sense, unless the guys sitting in lawnchairs at each gate were local volunteers with an extended sense of civic duty. I somehow doubt that was the case. The $4 levy is just that, an oddity.
We enjoyed our retro meal at Ponderosa in the Hub City. Brings back memories of my life as a poor after-student, where the concept of unlimited salad bar with variety and colour balanced the inexpensive beef piece. Still the case. The others were drawn in by the unlimited sundae bar; my sense of good dietary laws forbids unlimited anything except burnt fishcakes.
We listened to local radio stations, watched the scenery to the left and jokers on the right, stuck in the middle of an endless highway. The construction will be completed sometime in my lifetime, but on the whole this is a good route, and unlike the airlines I could have my bottled lemonade, and taking off shoes was my choice. Even the dog agreed.
We were back home shortly after dark, with two loads of dishes to do before the kitchen was cleared out. On the whole, an easy vacation.
