| Location: | London UK/Halifax NS |
We are home, mission accomplished. We returned via Iceland, which gave an opportunity to exit the airport, officially enter the country and wander around for a while in the cool air of an Icelandic morning while awaiting an onward flight to London. Perhaps not enough of a stop to claim to having ‘visited’ Iceland, but volcanic mountains were close and the country offers opportunities for a great biking trip, so another journey for the future I think.
After three nights in St John’s, Newfoundland, the provincial capital was starting to feel a bit like home. English architecture is everywhere, though the distinctive and colourful wood-slatted properties and homes reminded us that we were still thousands of miles away. Ahead of us lay the journey to Halifax, Nova Scotia and our flight home. After the achievement of riding across Canada, we hoped that this final leg of the journey wasn’t to be an anti climax.
On the morning of our departure, we took the bikes to the top of Signal Hill. With a commanding view of St John’s, this hill and the graceful Cabot Tower that crowns it, was the place where Marconi received the first trans Atlantic radio transmission, distant noises sent from Cornwall to Newfoundland, which were to herald the age of global mass communication.
We turned our wheels westwards for the first time on the trip. Nigel remarked that it didn’t feel right to be going west after weeks of effort to get east. It certainly would have been good to have finished in St John’s, but we were all looking forward to seeing Nova Scotia, our final province of the journey.
The ride to Argentia and the overnight ferry to North Sidney was uneventful, though once again we enjoyed the Irish/Cornish flavour of the Avalon Peninsular and in our usual way stopped to take photographs when stunning vistas opened up ahead of, or to the side of us.
The ferry crossing was uneventful, if quite choppy; the bangs and rattles of the ship as it bounced over the waves never quite letting us fall into a decent sleep. Bleary eyed, we were disgorged onto Nova Scotia’s shores early the following morning, the sun not yet up and for the first time on the journey a real chill in the air.
Cape Breton Island soon made us forget the chill. We rode through a landscape of mountains, broad rivers and lakes, which were among the best of the entire expedition. Breakfast was consumed in a roadside diner which took its decor themes from the strong Scottish background and ties in these parts – not for nothing was the province named Nova Scotia - ‘New Scotland’.
All too soon, we left Cape Breton and continued our journey through a populous region of small towns and productive farmland, a definite New England feel to our surroundings. Though frequent forests reminded us that we were still in a region that has not and probably never will be completely tamed.
Turning south at New Glasgow, we chose to leave the motorway and take a minor route towards the familiarly named town of Truro, partly because I was almost out of fuel and needed to look for a ‘gas bar’ and partly because it seemed a shame to waste our final afternoon of our Canadian odyssey on a motorway. Truro is a large regional town with great heritage and worth more than the quick look around that we had. Old black Ironstone buildings and churches reminding me of both Edinburgh and also of its ‘parent’, Truro in Cornwall. Afterwards, our stops became more protracted the closer we came to Halifax, the three of us unwilling to end the journey.
But finally, we reached Dartmouth and arrived at the offices and warehouse of Halifax Transfer, James Cargo’s agent in Nova Scotia. An hour of repacking the bikes and preparing them for crating and we were in a taxi for the final 10 miles of road before reaching journey’s end in Halifax.
With just hand-luggage and nothing much to do for the 24 hours before our flight, we felt anti climactic. We yearned for the endless road and already missed the days of long distance riding under open Canadian skies.
But Halifax has its compensations. This smart city has lots to offer and a great maritime and colonial heritage. On our final day we explored the city and visited the Titanic exhibition in the maritime museum. Many of Titanic’s dead were buried in Halifax and the city identifies itself strongly with that terrible disaster. The museum has the largest public collection of artefacts which were recovered immediately after the sinking and it was more than a little spooky viewing panels from the first class dining room, fascias from the staircase made famous in the Winslett/De Caprio movie, deckchairs, parts of lifebelts and various other flotsam and jetsam. I couldn’t decide if some of the exhibits were just sad, or slightly ghoulish in the way they were presented; especially the lifebelt which it was claimed was recovered from the body of Jacob Astor and, poignantly, the pair of shoes from a small child.
And so back to England. But what now for Trans Canada? I have already mentioned that we were researching the route for GlobeBusters Motorcycle Expeditions. Our objective to create a journey that would appeal to other riders. I believe that we have done that; the incredible scenery and people of British Columbia, the awesome Rocky Mountains, the endless open vistas of Alberta and Saskatchewan, the forests, lakes and farmlands of Manitoba, the variety and beauty of Ontario, the quirky ‘frenchness ‘ and superb riding of Quebec, the lonely, but brooding serenity of the stunning but remote Labrador and the wonderful scenes and history of Newfoundland. There’s lots to think about before announcing further plans to take a group of riders on this unique journey, but keep an eye on www.globebusters.com – you’ll see any news about a Trans Canada adventure there.
