Now we were entering new territory. We rounded the Avon River and turned north toward Wolfville and Grand Pré, the site of the Acadian settlement from 1675 to 1755. It's an historic site — church, statue, and park — commemorating their lives and work before the British forced them out.

The grounds are beautiful, and inside the church are paintings, maps and documents — such as expulsion decrees signed by British officials. And there's a bust of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who wrote Evangeline, the famous poem about the sad history, and the iconic statue of the fictional Evangeline herself. It's a very peaceful setting, close to the shoreline and the dikes the Acadians built to hold back the seawater. They converted 1200 hectares of below-sea-level marshes into farmland.

Our next stop (we were now on the Evangeline Trail) was another historic area, Annapolis Royal. It's considered Canada's birthplace because the first permanent settlement was established nearby in 1605 — and that guy Champlain was one of the group. It's a small town with Victorian homes, a quaint downtown/waterfront area, and a great French fort. Much of Fort Anne (1635) has been preserved and overlooks the Annapolis River. It's like a giant grassy playground full of rounded hills and valleys known as earthworks, caves and underpasses, and great views. It was so windy and cold while we were there, it was hard to stand, much less walk around. But we managed to run with the wind, up and down the grounds.

Back on the road, we headed a bit further south to Digby, our stopping point for the night. After checking in to the Kingfisher Motel, we were off to explore the area. The town is situated on the southern end of the Annapolis Basin, which opens into the Bay of Fundy. There's a ferry that runs between Digby and Saint John, NB. We stopped at the terminal and looked out at the narrow passage between the two peninsulas that enclose the Basin. Then we made a stop at The Pines, a grand old resort, the nearby golf course, and drove up and down the main street and waterfront. It's an old fishing town, only 2200 residents. I was continually surprised at how small and manageable the towns of NS were — I kept expecting to encounter traffic or a confusing layout in the more popular places, but no. Not anywhere. It was all so pleasantly simple and inviting.

Digby is famous for the 'world's largest inshore scallop fleet' — and many of the boats were docked and moored near the town. And guess what I had for dinner that night? Succulent, big scallops, mmm, mmm. Peter was craving pasta after so much seafood and had lasagna.

Now, look at the map above. See that narrow peninsula of land extending south and west of Digby? Does that look intriguing or what? No question about us 'doing' that area on our last day. The first, longest stretch is called Digby Neck; at its end you get on a ferry to Long Island, drive the length of that then get on another ferry to the dot in the exclamation point: Brier Island. The whole stretch reminded me of the bones of a finger. (On the map, not in person ...!)

We decided to go all the way to Brier Island first; we did pretty well hitting the ferries at the right time — and they are scheduled that way — to accommodate the drive time. The weather was beautiful and we enjoyed the ride on the Joe Casey from East Ferry to Tiverton on Long Island. Then the Joshua Slocum took us from Freeport to Westport on Brier Island.

Click on any image to enter the photo pages:

The island had some great seaside hiking trails ... we started at the eastern tip, at Grand Passage Light and continued quite a distance along the rocky, sloped coast. There were more of the sculpted basalt columns and we kept our eyes peeled for whales. Didn't see any, but we did see lots of seabirds and a whole rockful of seals. They were sunning and "aroo-ing," putting on a great show. We also visited Brier Light on the other end of the island, and hung out in cute Westport, population a couple hundred at most.

We ferried back to Long Island and stopped for more hiking. The first trek from Central Grove Provincial Park was only a 2K roundtrip through some dense vegetation, then opened out to the Bay of Fundy. Further down the road we had to see the famous Balancing Rock. It was a pleasant hike, but when you get near the end at St. Mary's Bay, there are about a thousand steps (actually 169) to go down, to get to the viewing platforms. It was a little disappointing — the pictures of the 7-meter high rock column that's balanced half on and half off another basalt column look pretty dramatic. Maybe because we were facing the sun in looking at it, it didn't seem as set off or spectacular. But the whole vista — cliffs, rocks, and bay was still awfully nice.

We arrived early for the ferry back to Digby Neck, only to be waved aboard immediately. There was some situation on one of the islands and the ferry needed to get back to the mainland quickly to transport a police car back out. It made me realize how dependent they are on the ferries ... it requires a different mindset to live on an island.

We were ready for a break, and right near the ferry was a small store/restaurant with a nice waterview . Finally I found some local postcards — they are not into self-promotion there — and ice cream. Ahh. We took a few minutes to sit on the front porch in the sun. Then we headed back up the Neck, around and south again down the east side of St. Mary's Bay.

As we drove along 101 we caught a glimpse down a road to a park area. And promptly stopped, turned around and pulled into Savary Provincial Park. A grove of tall birch trees filtered and enhanced the Bay view — quite a sight. It was a three-camera location. Peter knew I'd be awhile, so got out his book and settled in to read. We'd been lucking upon some spectacular places not mentioned in guide books. If you come to Nova Scotia, be sure to check out the parks — they know where to put them.

The stretch of 101 running along St. Mary's Bay to just north of Yarmouth is called the French or Acadian Coast, because that's where most of the Acadian population lives. You hear some great accents along the way. We read about the largest wooden church in North America, located in Church Point. Well, no problem finding it ... it's huge — 185 feet to the tip of the steeple, which is reinforced with rock innards to withstand high winds.

Just one more stop on a long day: at Cape St. Mary, Mavillette Beach Provincial Park. A wide sandy beach with dunes and shimmering tidepools, empty on a warm afternoon. Another reminder of how fortunate we were, to experience so many beautiful spots with nary another human being to be seen. My mantra: Canada in September.

We got to our final NS destination, Yarmouth. We were there to catch the Scotia Prince back home the next morning. Yarmouth didn't get our full attention (a problem for the town because it's viewed more as a launching/landing spot than a destination), sorry.

The 11-hour(!) trip back to Portland, Maine seemed every bit that long. The weather was inclement for most of the crossing (many retching people heard in cabins and bathrooms), but we did catch a few blessed moments of sun and quiet on the deck. The cruise was a gambler's paradise, many make the roundtrip and never leave the ship. And for such a large ship, there was surprisingly little breathing room and no escape from the ringing slot machines. But we hunkered down and I put a big dent in my book, finally.

The best thing about the crossing was saving 750 miles of driving time. And by sea, we completed our circumnavigation of the Bay of Fundy. It was a nice feeling of satisfaction ... but I'm ready to sink in the Fundy mud again, anytime.

Thanks for coming along ...