Our hotel is just 4 blocks from the harbour and boardwalk, 2 from the Citadel. Despite its central location, its primary function at this juncture is as laundromat - it has coin operated machines for guests. Frances reports to have been wearing the same socks these last four days. No one disputes the claim lest she remove her shoes to prove it.
We have just two days here, plus a half day on our return from PEI. We are determined to make the most of our short time. With the machines loaded it's off to sup at the Stubborn Goat. Great food and microbrews. We're hungry and our eyes are bigger than our stomachs. We over-eat (surprise) and can do little more than waddle home and blog.
Day 2 arrives with modestly improved weather and much improved motivation. I take the terrific guided tour of the Citadel and imagine myself as a British soldier in the 1850's. Nancy and girls do calligraphy with fountain pens and maths on slates with chalk. Their hard works are evidenced by the ink stains on all manner of exposed skin. We attend the changing of the guard. Nancy is shooed from the guard room as the private is to fix his bayonet. His rank cannot be trusted not to stab tourists or m, in fact, himself -- a corporal must supervise the operation. We wander through the replica WWI trench and the visit culminates with the firing of the twelve pounder precisely at noon as it has been fired daily for more than 200 years.
Lunch and a rest give way to a turn on the colourful harbourfront boardwalk. I am especially excited to take in the boats. I'm not disappointed as there are a variety of schooners taking tours, several naval vessels on display, even Theodore Tugboat from children's TV. But I am especially captivated by the biggest sailing ketch I've ever seen. It's enormous. 190' it turns out as I have a chance encounter with a paid crew. Originally commissioned by Rupert Murdoch, the vessel is now under unnamed private ownership. They've sailed to Halifax from the Bahamas en route to the Inside Passage. Once around they'll be continuing to the Galapagos. A year of sailing in total.
Nancy and I cannot leave without having seen the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, our Pacific version being a favorite field trip for Ms. Munro's primaries. So day 3 requires us to set the alarm early for first entry, leaving the girls to catch up on their sleep. It's delightful. Merlin the parrot talks and squawks, his exhibit debunking the myth popularized by Robert Louis Stevenson that pirates commonly kept parrots. The Halifax Explosion is documented in graphic detail as is the sailing and sinking of Titanic. Halifax was the first port of entry for both its few survivors and its many dead. I am particularly pleased by the collection of beautiful small wooden sailboats, though I wish there were more to see on boat building.
Sadly, it's time for us to be off to our next port of call.
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