Friday, April 13, 2007
We departed Canada on the morning of April 11, 2007 on a mission to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. For logistical reasons, best known to only a few erudite cartographers, we look a southernly route through the White Mountains of new Hampshire and then into Maine. After several hours of woodland travel off the American inter-state road system, my traveling companion and I arrived at the St John river and quietly slipped back into Canada, noticed only by a single, female border security guard who realising the nature of our visit quickly had us on our way. Within an hour of our being back in Canada, we were quietly enscounced in a hotel in St Andrews By the Sea. We donned dark jackets and walked down to the waterfront. Dinner was a caual affair as we mixed with the locals in a small pub. Hockey was on their minds, but not on ours. I'm certain we had not been followed. We began to relax as the mirco-brew seeped into our veins...
The following morning we departed St Andrews in the rising mist, taking an alternate route our of town to avoid any suspicion. Stopping for lunch at Petit Codiac, we drove past the fast food chains on the main highway and found an out of the way café. We were soon hidden among the natives in the place. I used my natural linguistic skills and spoke in the local English accent and dialect when ordering. I could tell my the sudden rise in her eyebrows that our presence escaped her detection. Back on the road, we drove directly to Halifax, only stopping at the Nova Scotian tourist bureau, again to complete the deception of being ordinary tourists with no fixed destination.
Safely booked into a mini-hotel on a side street just above the water front in Halifax, we went for a casual stroll along the harbour front docks. And there was the object of our mission: Theodore the Tug. She was everything we'd been led to believe: cute, brightly painted and, best of all, ready for the summer season. I quickly took the above photo and walked on so as not to attract any attention. Dinner at a quiet restaurant, followed by live music in a crowded, noisy Irish style pub. So far, so good. A perfect getaway!
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you get all that beautiful scenery and interesting things to visit and then the tourists turn up. . . .
Do you have a 00 designation like James Bond? And how did you ever manage to penetrate our borders?
Classic story, Michael!
That was extremely well written. You really hooked me on that little story. First I was trying to figure out why you had gone south to go east. Then as I sorted out the geography of it all, I was wondering why all the cloak and dagger. Next, my eye was drawn by the tug and I thought it had something to do with one of my little nephew’s telly shows. Finally, it all came together and I had a nice chuckle. Thanks for taking the time to share. I'm curious about one thing though. Are you an expat Nova Scotian or is that bit about speaking the local dialect artistic license?
I think T. the Tug paid at least one visit to New York Harbor a few years ago - I'm sure I remember seeing a cute little tug with a large baseball cap out tooling about!
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