August 11: Tidal bores aren’t boring, and neither are lighthouses

What a name.  It's on the northern shore of Nova Scotia.
What a name. It’s on the northern shore of Nova Scotia.  And no, I didn’t notice the historical site part of the sign until I was looking at my photos this evening.  Oh, well.

I drove past a lot of mudflats today [wry g]. But first, I needed to come back down from the northern shore (not all that far from the Confederation Bridge to Prince Edward Island, which I am sorta saving for last before I start heading west for good – and I can’t believe I just wrote that) to the town of Truro, where two things happened. One, I stopped at a Tim Horton’s for hot tea (I miss being able to buy unsweet iced tea at McD’s so much — Canadian McDs only do sweet tea, blast them), and burned my tongue on it so badly I ended up putting ice from my cooler in it to make it drinkable. And two, when I started Merlin back up after getting the tea, one of his dashboard lights came on.

The stupid manual didn’t explain what it was, and it took me a few minutes to figure out that it was simply a reminder thingy. The thing was, it was trying to remind me that Merlin needed an oil change, except that he’d just had one yesterday. So I drove on into Truro, found a Ford dealer, and threw myself on the mercy of a young man who just happened to be walking out of the service department (he did have a Ford service uniform on). He said, oh, the place you had it changed must not have known to adjust the reminder thing after they changed the oil, and then less than three minutes later, he’d done it. I didn’t know Merlin had a reminder thing, because apparently it comes on at 5200 miles post the previous oil change or something. At any rate, he didn’t charge me, and I was on my way.

I missed my turn once I got back on the freeway, too, and ended up taking a slightly different route back over to the Bay of Fundy. Which turned out to be a cool thing, because I drove by a tidal bore interpretive center that I would have missed otherwise. The tide being completely out, I didn’t get to see the actual bore, which is supposed to be the biggest one in the world, something like nine times as tall as the average man, but the exhibits were very interesting, especially the one about a storm a century or so ago that combined with high tide and basically wiped a lot of the communities along the bore off the map. The exhibit panel was titled, “why is there an ocean in my living room?”

The bridge over the tidal bore at the place I apparently didn't make a note of, sorry!
The bridge over the tidal bore at the place the name of which I apparently didn’t make a note of, sorry!
This is apparently what one does at the highest tidal bore in the world.  It's called mudsliding.  This photo is from the interpretive center there.
This is apparently what one does during low tide at the highest tidal bore in the world. It’s called mudsliding. This photo is from the interpretive center there.

Once I got to the actual bay again, the tide was still really low, and that far up into the bay, you could actually walk clear across it from Nova Scotia to New Brunswick (or the reverse), if you could walk the whole distance in less than four hours. Which, of course, is impossible. But it’s so weird.

Looking out over the mud flats of the Bay of Fundy.
Looking out over the mud flats of the Bay of Fundy to New Brunswick.

This was the view from the first lighthouse, which I apparently didn't get a photo of [smacks head a la V-8].
This was the view from the first lighthouse, which I apparently didn’t get a photo of [smacks head a la V-8].
I saw two lighthouses along the way. One, at Burntcoat (a weird name, but apparently a corruption of something French), was a reproduction and not a functioning lighthouse, but the second one, at Petit Riviere, still had its Fresnel lens, which was very cool. The ladders/staircases to get up into the lens room of the second lighthouse were built for people with considerably longer legs than mine, though. Other than that, and the glimpses of the wide mudflats that are the Bay of Fundy at low tide, the scenery was bucolic and hilly, and the road was a bit rollercoastery, which was fun.

The second lighthouse of the day.
The second lighthouse of the day.
And the view from the lawn around it.
And the view from the lawn around it.  The flowers are just thistles.
And its sweet little Fresnel lens.  Are you tired of photos of Fresnel lenses yet?
And its sweet little Fresnel lens. Are you tired of photos of Fresnel lenses yet?

I arrived in the town of Windsor about 3:30, and decided to stop because a) there was an inexpensive campground on what I think is the county fairgrounds (it’s called the exposition grounds) and b) there was a laundromat nearby. The last time I did laundry was about ten days ago, on Cape Cod, and things were getting kind of desperate [wry g]. Anyway, I now have clean clothes again. Important details, as my ex used to say.

Since I’d picnicked at lunch, I ate dinner out tonight, pan-fried flounder, a baked potato, and mashed turnips and carrots mixed together, all of which was very tasty (I’d never actually had turnips before). Oh, and caramel ice cream for dessert.

Then I made a reservation at a hostel in Digby, about 100 miles down the coast, for tomorrow night, because it’ll be Friday in high season and I was a bit worried about them having room for me. On the way tomorrow is Annapolis Royal, and a whole bunch of history about a time and place I know very little about. I can’t wait.