On this rainy day we’re sheltered at the Recreational Hall of the Sunset Watch campground in Brule Point. We’ve cleaned the bikes after yesterday’s muddy ride on the Trans Canada Trail, cooked some hearty warm food and depicted our journey on the world map we’re carrying with us.

This time it’s TE writing, pictures and video by PAK.

Our last text on this blog dates back from 30 May, where we wrote from our privileged post overlooking the Strait of Canso and the Dutch Runner (neither Dutch nor running), a cargo that’s been grounded by the old ferry captain’s house for the last two years, awaiting repair.

We took a good rest in Port Hawkesbury on the 31 May and used the chance to buy a Canadian sim for our cell and dry the tent out in the garden, as it was very wet from the previous ride. We also followed with joy the news that Spanish (now former) President Rajoy was being ousted in the Spanish Parliament. Hooray!!

We spent that evening chatting away with Emmanuel, the B&B owner, and his friends, about our visit to the Highlands in 2012 and particularly to the museum at Culloden battlefield, where there’s a recreation (battle roar included) of the tragic events taking place there that subsequently shaped so much the history of Nova Scotia. The conversation led to the topic of wars and why they happen (greed & money, basically) and we foresaw a dim future where the search for clean water will be the new goldrush.
On 1 June we enjoyed once more the delicious breakfast Emmanuel made us and we headed to Antigonish after a quick repair of TE’s chain, which gave in once more at a hilly crossing by the Skye Logde.

We rode 63 km, mostly on the highway under the blistering heat. The policeman we asked by the Town Hall in Antigonish must have seen we were almost fainting (sorry, TE was; PAK was as fresh as a cucumber) because he escorted us up to the very reception of the campground.

 

A friendly young man there (gosh, young man, I write like a granny 😜) explained to us where to enjoy the evening and we had a savoury dinner at the Town House pub.

 

On 2 June, the rain didn’t take us by surprise –as it happened in Bay Bulls: this time we got up at 5 am and by 6 we were fully packed and sheltered under the porch of a nearby building.

 

As we had a sip at the coffees a nice passer-by had offered us, we considered our options for the day. So PAK decided to go to talk to Matthieu, the young (here goes again the granny) owner of Highland Bike Shop and member of the WarmShowers community, to see if he would agree to give us shelter for another day in Antigonish.

 

And he did! Despite the short notice he and his family were so kind to take us in and we had a fantastic evening hearing Matt’s anecdotes of his 2010 trip and talking about so many interesting topics: music, local culture, bilingualism, you name it! We felt great admiration for these young parents, who are doing so well raising their adorable daughter whilst being entrepreneurs, hard work at an early age (for our Spanish standards) but very well done! We wish them great success.

 

On 3 June, after a hearty breakfast we picked our bikes and we said good bye to Antigonish, devoting a last thought to the nice people we had met there, from the kind policeman and the friendly staff and guests at the campground to Matt, Rae, Claire, Ben, Wayne, Eric… and Jack De Wilde, who passed by Matt’s house to say hello and the shop to wave us goodbye! Thank you!!

 

 

That same day -as well as the first leg of the next- we cycled on nice side roads with little traffic, only quite hilly. The true blessing came on the second leg of the journey yesterday, when after a short stopover at Debb’s Hidden Café (where we saw a hummingbird!) we rolled for about 35 km on the Trans Canada Trail. It would have been perfect on the fat bikes Matt rents at his shop but our bikes Anacleta and FU.LA.NA (FUlly LAden and NAsty) did alright too on this comfy path with gravel and just a few potholes filled with water from the past rainy days.

 

Again, a shortcut we tried didn’t work out unless we were ready to swim in a swamp full of mosquitoes. So, we had to come back to the road, we took a detour and finally arrived (83 km on our legs) in this campground in Brule Point. There we could finally cook the salmon fillets we’d bought the previous day, that we feared would be smelling rotten by the time we rode by Denmark (Shakespeare pun intended).

 

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