One Less Hitch...

10 June 2015

Cape Breton to….?

We woke up and started getting ready to leave – doing laundry, making use of the guaranteed free hot shower, and packing up the Casita… don’t underestimate the amount of time these tasks take!  We cleared out a bunch of leftovers for lunch before heading out.  To where?  We still hadn’t decided... Newfoundland sounded like a great adventure, but the weather wasn’t promising – well, it was sort of promising rain.  So it was either going to be Halifax by way of Iona (one last stop on Capte Breton) or spending one more night on the island, visiting a fort, and taking the Newfoundland ferry in the morning.  We decided to flip a coin – heads we go to Newfoundland, tails we go to Halifax… tails.  (We did get to take a small pointless ferry across a really narrow part of the water that should have just had a bridge over it anyway.  Sissy still thought it was cool though.)

Iona is a town on Cape Breton that boasts a Scottish Highlands museum village.  Sis got to join in and help soften some wool while singing traditional Scottish Gaelic songs.  It was so authentic, that the workers actually spoke to eachother in casual conversation in Gaelic, and attested that they do the same when they run into eachother (and other locals) in town as well.  The blacksmith was actually welding a cooling rack and explained all the tools, etc., to us.  His father (in real life) has a metal works shop, and he said he enjoys what he does there at the Highlands.  The carpenter was making an outdoor table.  The ladies had linen on the loom and had made a good amount of the garments and blankets they use there on the premesis, to include having collected wool from the sheep we were able to visit near the barn.  It was extremely impressive.  The general idea of the village was to visit buildings in succession that took you from living conditions in 18^th century Scotland all the way to a “modern” 1925 Scottish house on Cape Breton, complete with its own switchboard and telephone (though they still used kerosene lamps despite Alexander Graham Bell being on the island, because it wasn’t worth their trouble to run electricity to their part of town for just a measly light bulb…).

We grabbed a Gaelic/English children’s book for the girls (we started making a tradition of getting a native book when we took Sis to Italy (though we didn’t do the best at it in other places we’ve been) and loaded up the car/Casita for Halifax.  However, with some Newfoundland regret, we again brought it up, realizing we could still call it a night and grab the ferry.  While I was waiting for the weather forecast to load, Matt said “Let’s Do It!,” and I said “well let me see what the weather says, and let’s look and see if we even have time to fit it in before we have to be back (for a family wedding)…”.  Apparently by then the “moment” had gone by, (and the weather still looked rainy and our schedule looked tight), so to Halifax we went, with the idea that if we changed our minds, we’d still go after Halifax, and maybe instead of Quebec…

En route to the greater Halifax area, we stopped for dinner in Truoro, which was still over an hour from our destination (a beach-side campsite south of Halifax).  When attempting to park at the diner-style restaurant, we pulled into what apparently was not a two-entrance lot, forcing us to have to back the Casita all the way back out of it.  The problem we’ve encountered is that when we back up at an acute angle to the Casita, our bike tires (on the back of our SUV) actually touch the Casita.  Matt made mention that he may just take off a bike tire for this particular maneuver, and disappeared for a few minutes behind the Casita.  After a few driver’s seat-switches, he finally got it parked at a Staples next door while I held a hangry Eloise and noticed indeed the rear mountain bike wheel was off.  Nonchalantly, since this was discussed as an option, I approached him and said “do you have your tire?”  Not so nonchalantly, he asked me what I was talking about.  I pointed out that his rear bike wheel (not just the tire) was missing.  It was not on purpose.  It was not in the parking lot.  It was gone gone.  We hit a pretty serious dip in the road (but no scrape) when still back on Cape Breton that bounced the car and Casita pretty fiercely – it must have fallen off at that moment.  Bummer right?  Worse.  He then said, by the way – the worst part of this is that the kids’ bike trailer hitch was on that  wheel.  Now we have no way to pull the POD.  (I’ve never even come across another POD in America, let alone finding one in a bike shop on an island in Canada).  I decided we’d call Baby Jogger in the morning to mail a replacement part to PEI for us, since we didn’t plan to use the bikes in Halifax.  Oh, and we’d have to get Matt a new wheel.

Another after-hours arrival at the Hubbard’s Beach Campground, another successful sleeping girl Peapod transfer.  Lunenburg in the morning.

Baby Gear Used Today:

Packing up the Campsite:
Fischer Price Folding Travel High Chair:  While packing up our campsites, we are able to contain Eloise in this high chair strapped to her L.L. Bean camping chair.  (I do regret not bringing my Guava Family GoCrib on this trip as an outdoor playpen, or even our North States metal play yard).

Iona:

Baby Jogger City Mini GT Double:  The unpaved hilly paths resembled 18^th century Scotland.  The GT tires handled the task well.  We did leave it parked outside all of the buildings we entered (aside from the visitor’s center). 

Confesh:

I’ve given up on using the high-chair cover in restaurants.  It doesn’t come along everywhere because it takes up space, so I stopped trying for the most part.  However, I am still quite the germaphobe, so I am a big fan of our BabyGanics hand sanitizing foam, followed by a Pampers Sensitive wipe.  (If you have any sanitizing suggestions for a baby who tries to eat restaurant crayons, I’m all ears… cringe).

Whiskey and Jammies

9 June 2015

Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

The good thing about traveling up here in the off-season is that we haven’t had to fight any crowds at all, and there are still a good number of things open to do and see.  We were able to book a morning-of puffin and seal tour for this morning that I’m sure sells out during the actual summer.  The Puffin Express took us out to the two bird islands just outside the Big Bras D’Or inlet.  This tour did not allow us to actually land on the protected islands (there are a few in Maine & New Brunswick that apparently do but they’re about four hours long and a lot more expensive.  Sissy would have been fine but Eloise is kind of a hot mess when it comes to being contained) but we spent at least an hour and twenty minutes trolling around taking photos and learning facts and folklore from our sea captain and his son. 

After the motion-sickness Sissy vomit episode of yesterday, Matt asked in advance if I thought the puffin tour would be a good idea.  My response?  Vomiting on boats is totes acceptable.  Well, she did better than your average bear.  She was completely unaffected by the choppy seas, and was being a monkey on the stairs most of the time.  The captain even said, “She’s got her sea legs!”  (He obviously hadn’t seen our car yesterday).   

We decided to check out the Alexander Graham Bell museum following the puffin tour, and grabbed lunch on the way at the Yellow Cello.  The pizza was nothing to write blog home about, but it just so happened they had a gluten-free (aka flourless) chocolate torte on the dessert menu.  Obviously unable to pass on my quest for an equal or better cake as the Nemesis Cake, I ordered it.  Turns out, at this little mediocre-rated place in Baddeck, Nova Scotia, I found my number two cake of all time.  If it had sea salt and olive oil, it may have even made it to the top spot.  I asked for the recipe, but the woman who baked it had just left.  I left my email in hopes she’d send it to me that way.  Apparently she uses four types of chocolate.  It was dense but smooth, slightly warmer than room temperature, (as I prefer), and a pleasant surprise down to the last bite.  I admit, I didn’t share much of it, but Sissy did enjoy licking the plate when I was done!

The Alexander Graham Bell museum was the most crowded place we’ve been to on this entire trip.  Busloads of people were there, but it still wasn’t as bad as it could be in the summer, I’m sure.  Sissy enjoyed some of the exhibits and talking to her imaginary friend, Apple, on the rotary phone.  Just as we finished the exhibits and got to the play area, the power went out, so we headed back to camp to prepare for our dinner outing.  When we got there, it was so beautiful out, dada took the girls to the playground and we all got ready to go in the pool, but it wasn’t heated and they’d just filled it the day before. 

Our dinner plan that night was to go to a few Scottish ceilidhs at different restaurants. Our first stop was the Red Shoe pub in Mabou, which had a fiddler and pianist until 7pm, where we had dinner (decent food – I had a lobster seafood penne, and despite the girls having fish and chips, Eloise saw the penne and dove her pudgy little fingers right into my bowl.  She is such a hungry bunny that she tends to dive at anyone’s food that looks good to her).  Cape Breton is heavily Scottish, though we still hadn’t found anywhere that served traditional Scottish food (haggis, bangers & mash, etc.).

We finished eating and the next place (Glenora Distillery) didn’t have music starting until 8pm, so we took a walk down the street to a little gazebo by a lake and let the girls get some energy out.  It started to get buggy, so we drove up to Glenora.  The grounds of the distillery (and inn and restaurant) were beautiful.  Stacks of barrels and a small pond, lanterns, and well-groomed flowers and shrubs made up the scenery surrounding small bridges over a creek.  At this point, it was after 8pm, so we were the only ones walking into a live music distillery bar/restaurant setting with toddlers, let alone feeding them dessert at such an hour!  (To our credit, it was an hour earlier in New York…;).  We didn’t stay ‘til 10 when the fiddler and pianist finished up; we put the girls in jammies and started the longish drive back to camp for the night.

Once the girls were asleep, Matt and I sat around the campfire trying to decide on our next move.  We spoke a bit with the puffin tour captain about his off-season job (Canadian Coast Guard) and got on the topic of Newfoundland.  He said that Gros Morne National Park made the Cabot Trail look “just ok.”  We looked up the logistics of going to Newfoundland on a whim (a 7-hour ferry and a 3-hour drive just to get to the park, leaving the Casita on Cape Breton, and staying at a hotel for two nights).  Do-able, but quite a big undertaking with two little ones.  We decided to sleep on it…

Baby Gear Used Today:

On the puffin tour:
Ergo Sport for Eloise.  She slept in it for most of the actual time we were near the islands, and for the whole way back, (and then still slept when I transferred her to her carseat (Britax Advocate) after the tour – success!)

AGB Museum:

City Mini GT Double.  Sis was in and out of it, but it was still nice to have somewhere to put her when she got “tired of walking.”

The Vomit Trail

8 June 2015

The Cabot Vomit Trail, Cape Breton, NS

Probably the main reason tourists visit Cape Breton is to drive (and explore) the Cabot Trail, a 4-5 hour loop (without stops) around the northeast portion of the island that weaves in and out of Cape Breton Highlands National Park.  It’s been compared to California 1’s Pacific Coast Highway (PCH), and has been called one of the most beautiful drives in the world.  Along the route, there are plenty of pull-offs for photos, numerous hiking trails, and beaches galore.  We did a bit of research to see where along this super long route we wanted to stop (4-5 hours is a long time for kiddos, and that doesn’t even include side excursions) and which direction to drive it.  From what we’d read, most people drive it clockwise to favor the inside of turns, but those who drive it counterclockwise have the advantage of views from the cliff-side of the road and to catch the late afternoon sun on the west side, though some sources said it was only for the “brave” driver.  We chose counterclockwise.

We set out, mommy behind the wheel, moving at a rapid pace, trying not to doddle through the inland areas of what could be quite a long day in the car for the girls.  (Once you set out on the trail, you either finish it or turn back; there are no short-cuts through the middle).  Juuuuuust as we got to what is known as the Great Smoky (or something like that) part of the drive, the part we’d read is the biggest hill and some of the best vista points, we hear Sissy cough twice and then gurgle.  The stench of vomit filled the car, as what was once waffle, pureed fruit pouch, and milk filled Sissy’s carseat.  We raced up the mountain to the first place we could pull over, and assessed the situation.  It was not good.  And we were ill-equipped to manage it at the present time.  There really was nothing to be done at that moment besides drive on and find somewhere to deal with the mess. 

Within 5 minutes or so we were at the entrance to the National Park.  The lady working there gave us a few tips on where to go to find a gift shop (she needed a change of clothes) and a campsite (for a shower).  Unfortunately the gift shop was closed, as was the first campsite.  About 15 or so minutes later, we got to Ingonish, the first town area we’d come to on the coast going counterclockwise.  Ingonish is known for it’s golf course and hotel.  We pulled into the hotel to scope out a gift shop.  (We assumed there’d be a good chance she’d be wearing a kilt the rest of the day).  The gift shop had some kid t-shirts, and the guy was nice enough to also provide us with some (a lot of) paper towels, plastic bags, and a big garbage bag.  There was still nowhere to shower her off, and in the midst of the vomitous mess that she was, she fell asleep en route to the hotel.  (It may seem that way, but I swear she didn’t have kegs and eggs for breakfast).  A t-shirt was a good start, and we were able to finally find a campground in another 10-15 minutes or so.  At this point, Matt took her into the shower area at the campground, and cleaned her off (we happened to have Eloise’s soap in the car), and I tackled the carseat, a fussy Eloise nearby, taking it all (more than she’d bargained for) in.

It was this moment that I feared when I purchased the Clek Fllo.  It’s antimicrobial and stain-resistant fabric just isn’t the same as a good ol’ washable removable cover.  I did talk with John at Clek (several times – I loved that when I call their customer service, you actually have a good chance of talking with the same person more than once) who said there is a way to remove and wash the fabric, but I realized at this moment that I never looked into it, nor did I bring the manual with me, though I could probably have Googled or YouTubed it.  Anyway, it was disgusting.  I did as best I could with paper towels and baby wipes, only realizing as we were putting her back in it that I had laundry detergent with me the whole time. 

Fortunately, as she sat there in the sun, wrapped in Dada’s t-shirt and a blanket, she said she was feeling better.  That morning she’d said her throat hurt, and when she vomited, I was afraid it was all just going to go downhill from there.  I took the turns a bit slower after that, and she was back to her normal self shortly after.  Unfortunately, we also bypassed our first planned hike and some of the most scenic parts of the trail due to the circumstances.  But there was plenty more ahead of us, to include several attempts at finding Sissy-sized pants for sale along a pretty remote coast and in the late off-season, and snatching two abandoned lobster traps as souvenirs: one that had washed ashore on a deserted rock beach, and one that was being thrown out.  (Apparently, we chose trash day to see one of Earth’s most beautiful drives… and not just weekly trash day, this seemed like a once-a-year (or even decade) spring cleaning trash day.  Every other house had ovens, mattresses, and furniture tossed to the curb, to the point where I could have even made a set of blue armchairs out of two different garbage piles.  It was as if the whole island purchased kitchen appliances at the same time, and they all stopped working simultaneously).  When we finally stopped for a picnic lunch and our first hike to a waterfall, I realized we had brought both girls footsie jammies since it was going to be such a long day.  So Sis got to do the hike in fleece footsie Santa Claus jams, her semi-vomit-covered slip-ons, and a fleece jacket.  Fleece on fleece, so hot right now.

We wound up stopping at a few pull-offs that afternoon for some photos (so far we’d blown through most of the trail), and finally came across a beach that was covered in really smooth rocks.  Sissy and daddy enjoyed skipping rocks, mom enjoyed taking photos, but poor Eloise is not a fan of the sand in her toes.  She’ll have to learn better.  After Dada gathered enough driftwood to make a fire, we finished up our memorable (for all the wrong reasons!) circumnavigation of the Cabot Trail and decided to grill out for dinner back at the Casita.  After some ribs and sides that we ate in the campground lounge (think overly nautical seafood restaurant décor) we all scrub-a-dub-dubbed ourselves, and I tackled the Clek carseat with laundry detergent, cleaning spray, and Dreft wipes.  (All the nooks and crannies those things have when it comes down to a deep clean!)  I’d say it was time to call it a day after that.

Baby Gear Used Today:

Transportation:

Carseats: Today I was an Advocate for a more washable carseat than the Clek Fllo.  I’ll get back to you on this when I attempt the full disassemble wash at a later time.

Hiking:  Kelty Hiking Backpack and Ergo Sport.

Sissy's World Cup Debut

7 June 2015

Hopewell Cape + Moncton

After a late arrival to a pretty Hicksville campground, (Gastin’s Chocolate River Restaurant Campground), we plugged in and passed out.  We tried to make this as minimal of an overnight stop as possible – didn’t even hook up the water.  This morning we had breakfast in the car on the way to the Hopewell Rocks.  Low tide was at 10:36am, meaning that we were able to walk the riverbed far below the high-tide line among the natural gallery of arched and curved rocks carved out by erosion of the tidal changes.  We were pretty impressed, except for Eloise.  She slept through the whole thing.

After cleaning the mud and muck off our shoes and hiking back up the hill, Sis and I took a potty break while Dada and Eloise snuggled in the grass.  Eloise likes to be on Dada Island.  When we were on the beach at Echo Lake, she tried her hardest to keep her toes out of the sand and stay on Dada.  It was the same in the grass today – he said they just snuggled and laid in the sun for about 10 minutes, until she heard us coming back.

With no real lunch plans, we drove up to Moncton around 12:30 in order to have time to eat and catch the tidal bore at 2:17pm.  Moncton is a large town/small city a good distance up the inlet, so when the tide drastically changes down at Hopewell Cape, filling the rock formations, it sends a large wave up the waterway toward Moncton.  There is a riverfront park that provides the best views of this twice-daily phenomenon.  Initially our plan went from “let’s find a grocery store for some meat and tailgate with our grill in the park” to “let’s try the local fast food” (Tim Horton’s, which was closed) to “let’s see what’s open on a Sunday in town – ooh they have a Thai food truck” (not there) – to “let’s just park and walk around” to “look there’s a festival near our parking spot and right on the river, let’s just go there.”  Turns out, the festival (which had two food trucks, score) was a Fan-Fest for the 2015 FIFA Women’s World Cup, for which apparently Moncton is one of six host cities across all of Canada.  Who knew.  Maybe we’ll try to catch a match on the way back.  Probs not, but it’s out there.

There was a magician at the festival, which Sissy enjoyed.  We sat in the grass eating our gourmet schnitzel (Matt’s had cranberry and brie, mine was gouda-stuffed with a lime sauce and coconut flakes on it) while watching the show.  The girls ate some spaetzle and chicken poutine, (tw o separate things).  Poutine was a dish we first had in Montreal, but it has Quebecois origins.  It’s basically French fries, cheese curds, and a brown gravy, plus or minus additional toppings, like meats.  It was good on a freezing cold Montreal food tour day two winters ago.  It wasn’t bad today either, but it paled in comparison to the German food (and usually I find German food to be sort of bland). 

The tide bore (as one reviewer termed it a “total bore”) was less apocalyptic than I’d hoped, but still a cool sight to see.  The two guys who surfed it in were an added bonus.  It wasn’t a giant wall of water, it was more of a slowly-moving shallow wave front of mucky brown water (hence the name Chocolate River).  Once that was over, Sissy tried her hand (or foot, rather) at a kids’ soccer obstacle/skill course.  She got some arbitrary scores written on paper, but scored a few goals and (I think) enjoyed it nonetheless.  She also got to make her own facemask, (like Mardi Gras style mask) as well as a Brazilian flag, for some reason probably World Cup related.  She won a small globe stress ball by naming 2 country flags (Canada and America).  Matt wanted me to see how many I could get.  To be fair, the woman picked out the New Brunswick flag (which I got) followed by the Acadian flag.  But then onto Europe… whatevs.

We’re now on the road again in Nova Scotia heading to Cape Breton for the next couple days.  The weather outlook is pleasant, and we’re hoping to catch some puffins or whales (well, a glimpse of them) at some point while we’re up here. 

Cape Breton is a pretty spread out and quiet place.  We Yelped for open restaurants on the way in, after passing what was apparently the last one for an hour or so.  We finally made a U-turn into a little Scottish-themed restaurant called The Auld Brass Door.  A husband and wife team owned and operated the place.  Though the entire restaurant was a tartan-fest, the Scottish theme wasn’t really reflected on the menu.  We asked about haggis, and they said they used to serve traditional Scottish food, but no one really bought it.  They were Scottish, and had lived everywhere from Scotland to the US to Canada to Zambia.  The guy sat down with us with a cup of tea and told us a few stories and jokes.  There was only one other couple in the restaurant, a retired older pair just driving in from Tennessee.  It was a friendly little welcome to Cape Breton.

Baby Gear Used Today:

Transport:

Car Seats: Clek Fllo and Britax Advocate

Baby-Wearing: Matty hiked the Hopewell Rocks with Sissy in a Kelty hiking backpack that (conveniently but more heavily) also converts into a short-term stroller (a handle folds up and there are wheels on the bottom.  (Genius, I think, but it’s an older model that we were lucky to come across at a consignment store once upon a time.  I don’t think they still make a similar pack, for whatever reason.)  I carried Eloise in the Ergo Sport (it’s from when Charlotte was a baby – it pre-dates the Ergo 360). 

Stroller:  Another City-Mini GT Double day for the FIFA fan fest at the riverfront park.

Feeding:

High Chair: Fisher Price Travel Folding Chair