Driving

I have two cars, one a 2014, Toyota Camary Hybrid, the other a classic 1982 Alfa Romeo Spider. The Camary is my daily driver and is the car I use the most. The Spider is a classic and registered as an “Antique Auto”, so is only supposed to be driven for special events. 

A Condo dwelling Alfa

When we moved to Toronto for our downsizing experiment we elected to leave the Camary behind and the Spider was put on a trailer and towed to Toronto behind a U-Haul containing our downsized life. The plan was to use public transit to explore Toronto and if we really needed a car, our son lives close by and his car was available if needed. I joined the Toronto Alfa Romeo car club, and I looked forward to getting together with other Alfa enthusiasts for classic car events. This plan worked exceptionally well; we became experts in getting around the city on subway, streetcars, busses and trains, we used our son’s car for trips out of the city and the Spider was so pleased to go on drives surrounded by other classic Italian automobiles. 

All good things do however eventually come to a conclusion and we will be moving back to Nova Scotia, convinced now that we can downsize to an apartment or condo, so the Spider would have to be taken back to it’s comfortable garage behind our house in Dartmouth. The parking spot under the condo we were renting did not belong to the condo we were in so it was rented from another resident who was not using it, but they informed us that they were selling the condo so would probably need the spot back, and searches for another spot in the parking garage did not get any results, so another solution was needed. 

When I got the good news that I was scheduled to finally get a new right hip at the end of the month the solution for the Spider presented itself. We would drive it back to Nova Scotia rather than flying. The Spider is an old vehicle and I felt it was important to have it checked out by George, a skilled and trusted  Italian mechanic to make sure the car was up to the 1700 km drive, and he gave the little convertible a thumbs up. 

We were concerned about driving the car that distance because it is old and has none of the creature comforts we were used to having for extended journeys; no cruise control, no air conditioning, no power steering and very limited luggage space. On the plus side, the Spider is known for being one of the most comfortable of the 1980 era sports cars, and on the drives we had done, my six foot frame was always comfortable. But I was going home for a hip replacement and one of my knees often objected to long drives. We looked at the route from Toronto and decided to take it slow, breaking the 1700 km drive into five days, stopping to visit friends and visit favourite locations along the way. 

Although the Spider’s trunk contained a basic tool kit of wrenches and socket sets, another wrench was thrown into our plans when my wife developed a painful foot issue and was diagnosed with bone spurs on her achilles, so was warned to stay off the foot and was given a big plastic boot to allow recovery. I had lost my co-driver! Fortunately a phone call to a good friend back in Nova Scotia provided not only a co-driver but also a skilled mechanic, so the plan was back on track. 

A one-way flight to Toronto brought my willing driving companion to the big city and the five day plan was revised to a three day drive. We checked weather and decided on safe dates to leave to get sunny weather, for the Spider convertible does not particularly like driving in the rain. 

Hey, where did the rain come from?

The drive went very well, but the weather did not cooperate and we ended up driving one whole day through heavy rain, and the convertible top only came down for the last hours drive, but the experience got me thinking about the whole driving experience. We drove three days through some miserable rain in a little car with no AC, cruise control, stereo system, or power steering and a leaky convertible top, but we really enjoyed ourselves. We discovered that we could not really carry on a conversation because both of us are slightly hard of hearing and the car is quite noisy, but the drive still went very well. We did not get tired, and my hip or knee did not object and my friend’s sore back actually got better over the drive; we were comfortable and finished up each day with a smile. How is that possible?

A wet rainy drive through Quebec

I decided the answer was that we actually were doing something that new fancy vehicles isolate you from; we were DRIVING, really driving the whole time. We are both “Gear Heads”, so driving a classic sports car was enjoyable and the effortless steering, mind numbing cruise control and surround sound entertainment systems were not there to distract us from the actual driving experience. As you passed the many tractor trailers, you are literally lower than their tires and you could count the lug nuts on the wheels as you went by. You had to shift the gears up and down and as you steered the car through the corners, you could feel the tires and the suspension doing its work. The little two litre dual overhead cam engine and the European exhaust system was as good as an expensive sound system to two aged car guys. I have driven this route many times over the past 20 years and always got lulled into a tired sleepy state after a few hours, but this time the little car kept us alert and happy as we actually enjoyed driving. 

Some "top-down" driving

Finally the sun came out

Dirty with road grime but home safely

A Guest in my own House

Back In NS for Christmas

When we undertook this adventure in Toronto we rented our house in Dartmouth to our daughter Alisha & her husband Derek. She was moving back to Nova Scotia and needed a place to live while she settled back into an East Coast lifestyle and we needed someone to look after our house while we tried out big-city-condo-life in Toronto, so this was a win/win arrangement for all of us. We spent the month of August sharing the house as we packed up to move and she unpacked so, as we emptied drawers, she filled them with her “stuff”. As we progressed through this we made it very clear to her that we wanted her to treat the house as her’s and she was welcome to make changes as she saw fit to make the house their own. As we settled into the rented condo in Toronto, we were comfortable that our house in Dartmouth was in good hands, although I did compose a handy document with suggestions of how to deal with procedures I had developed over the 30 plus years we lived in the house. 

Now, over the years since the children moved out and left us in a house too big for just Regis and I, we decided that Christmas would be alternated between “home” for Christmas in Dartmouth and Christmas with the children in their cities. This worked well and we spent many pleasant holidays in the children’s apartments and houses in Montreal, Ottawa, and Toronto. This year however was scheduled for a Dartmouth Christmas, so Ryan & Ben and Regis & I were flying “home” to spend Christmas with Alisha and Derek in our old house in Dartmouth. When planning this trip, we made it very clear to Alisha that we did not expect her to give us back our bedroom and our nice adjustable king sized bed, we expected to be “guests” and would live in the guest suite downstairs. 

The sleeping arrangements were just fine, but it really was a bit odd to be a guest

Apparently it is now "Bob's Chair

in your own house. Alisha and Derek really have made themselves at home in the house and we had to adapt to their lifestyle. Bob the cat had claimed my favourite chair by the wood stove, and Mochi the dog has taken over the loveseat we left behind. We were there for three weeks and I still looked for the corkscrew in the drawer in the kitchen island every time a new bottle had to be opened. I know I left my big stock pot there, but I never found it; it must be down in the storage room somewhere among the boxes of our stuff and boxes of their stuff so soup stock had to be made in Alisha’s pot. They did not adjust to all of my suggested procedures, and Derek has his own way of lighting and feeding the wood stove that works just fine,  and they haven’t had enough snow to realize that my suggestion of always scraping the driveway clean prevents it getting icy really does work . . . .

Working together 

So, although it was odd being a guest in my own house, it all worked out fine and we spent an enjoyable three week Holiday visit back in Nova Scotia with Alisha and Derek, and Ryan and Ben joined us for a few days over Christmas. 

Caution . . . Construction

Beautiful new bridges

Today was a cold day, but a sunny one, so we decided to continue our waterfront walk. My goal was to go down to the western end of the downtown Toronto waterfront and try to see the new bridges that had been built in Nova Scotia to be installed here to provide better, more attractive access to the Toronto Port Lands. The area itself is actually a bit of a mess with empty lots, heavy industrial, aging grain elevators and piles of “stuff”, mixed with a yacht club and a nice beach park at the end of the road. There is an actual marine port with access for seaway freighters as well as cruise ships, but coming from Halifax with one of the best harbours on the east coast, Toronto’s Port Lands do not look that impressive. 

Walking the new bridge

There are four of the new bridges being installed but only one is actually installed and being used, while the other three are seriously under construction. Once done, these new bridges will take this rough Industrial area much more attractive, and I assume encourage some more attractive development of the underused areas of the Port Lands. These bridges are elegant attractive structures, providing a vehicle roadway, a two lane bikeway, and a nice wide pedestrian walkway. The bridges are painted white on the exterior and each is a different colour on the inside. They will be a big improvement over the narrow temporary bridge and the old rusty lift bridge. But Really . . . what do you expect from a Nova Scotia product? 

Oh, and there was lots of construction . . . . 

One of many detours

Our walk to explore this section of Toronto’s waterfront was not easy. Once finished the new bridges with provide a nice direct route, but we had to walk around a large parking lot, across a thin rubber track across a narrow bridge which we had to share with vehicle traffic, then back and forth via construction detours, closed sidewalks and roadblocks. The rusty lift bridge only supports one lane of traffic and the pedestrian walkway is a temporary wooden one that replaced a rusted metal lane. Information on Wikipedia says that the lift bridge is historically significant and is being restored and rebuilt, but it looks pretty bad right now. 

Caution

Fortunately we survived our walk through the construction zones and continued our walk to Cherry Beach where the road ends at an attractive city park. On the way I can provide an update on an earlier post about the “sea can” market. We walked by a business that promises to provide a converted shipping container for any purpose - perhaps that is where all the ones used for the market came from. I think I recognize the shipping container washrooms . . .

And then we had retrace the route and do it all over again to get home.

Toronto Beach Sand - construction debris

Need a shipping container?

"Sea Can" Washrooms ready to go

Toronto . . . not a skyscraper in sight

The lifeguard is not on duty

The CN Tower hiding behind a pile of mud

Sangria

Our little four day Nova Scotia “Staycation”, has been very relaxing and to be honest a bit slow. When you only have an hour or so between stops, you are in no rush and have time to stop anywhere you like. Driving from West Pubnico to Summerville Centre we decided to stop in Shelburne just to have a little walk around and see the town as we have not been here for many years. We stopped on the waterfront and wandered around, but then saw an interesting local pub and thought we'd stop for a snack and a drink.

While Regis made a trip to the ladies room, I ordered a beer and the server left a menu from which I noticed some deep fried pepperoni that I thought might be perfect to hold us over until dinner time. Regis had returned when my beer arrived and the server asked Regis if she'd like a drink.

“Do you have any sparkling wine?”

“No I'm afraid we don't.”

“How about Sangria, do you have that?”

“Yea, red or white?” Now this was a pleasant surprise we had not expected; they actually had sangria.

Regis ordered “red”.

A wine glass arrived with something red in it and was politely left at the table.

Reis picked it up and took a sip. I could tell by the grimace that it was not good Sangria. “This just tastes like red wine.”, and she passed the glass to me.

Yup, just plain red wine; not a bad wine, but a dry red the worst kind for her.

The next time by, we stopped the server and said “This is not sangria, it tastes like just red wine.

“Yes, I asked you if you wanted red or white, you said red.”

“But it's not Sangria, Sangria has red wine mixed with fruit juice, brandy and fruit.”

The puzzled look told us she had no idea what “Sangria” was. “Can you take it back and mix it to make a sangria.” We explained again what makes “Sangria”.

“Oh, we don't have and brandy. And we don't have fruit juice and I know we don't have any fruit.”

The server was very apologetic and embarrassed, but explained that she didn't know much about mixed drinks, because she did not drink herself. We asked if she could bring at least some Sprite to mix with the red wine to make it a spritzer.

When the Sprite was delivered she again said how sorry she was, and added with a giggle that at least she now knew what a “Sangrino.” was. (And that is not a typo . . . . )

Not Sangria

The Beer was good!

On The Road Again

It has been a while since I've written anything here, but then it has been a while since I've done any travel and the posts are mostly written around travel. Now, since the “Atlantic Bubble” has opened up, we decided to spend the government's $300.00 Senior COVID-19 gift supporting some local destinations. Originally I planned to go to Saint Andrews By The Sea, a location I have wanted to visit for a while, but we decided instead to keep our contributions to the economy really local and stay within Nova Scotia. Regis set out to organize a “Staycation” within the province. She decided upon a night in Wolfville, then on to Annapolis Royal, an evening in Pubnico and finally Summerville Centre. A four day trip around the South Shore of Nova Scotia was a great opportunity to get away without actually going away.

A leisurely drive down to Wolfville only took us two hours, driving all on the secondary roads and allowed us to stop at a couple of our favourite wineries, and finally getting to see what was in the Hops House just off the highway at Grand Pre. We have stopped in three times previously only to always find it closed; now when many businesses are closed due to the Pandemic this place was open. I picked up some of their local craft beer to bring home.

After visiting Gaspereau Winery, one of my favourite in the province, we made our way to Wolfville. The road we took made me sorry I had decided to bring the Toyota rather than the Alfa Romeo because the road had enough twists and turns to “break the back of a snake”, but the impending rain and thunder storms had kept the Spider in the garage.

In Wolfville, we stayed at Micro Boutique Living where we had a delightful little suite overlooking the amazing tides of the Minas Basin, and we finally got to sample the fare and brews at Church Brewing which had always been overflowing with collage students prior to the virus sending them all home.

Day two was traveling to Annapolis Royal along the old highway Route 1, through towns we normally only know as signposts at the exits on highway 101.

Our accommodations in Annapolis Royal was an exercise in differences from Wolfville. Where we had six texts and e-mails making sure we knew our check-in time was not before 3:00 PM and we MUST be out by 11:00 AM, the “Just-B” (Just a bed, no Breakfast), sent us a greeting that said check-in was 3:00 and check-out was 11:00, but they would have everything ready plenty early and they were in no hurry to clean up after us, so come and leave when convenient. As well, the Just-B was quaint and old fashioned with an artsy feel where the Micro Boutique was trendy and modern. Interesting contrast, but both places were comfortable and I would recommend them both.

While in Annapolis Royal, we hiked the French Basin Trail, a nice walking trail on old dykes around a marsh. This allowed us to work up an appetite for Take-out fish & chips delivered by the cook to the Brewery down the street – that's small town hospitality and co-operation for you.

And now that I have gotten back into writing, I hope you get to read a few more of these posts from this trip around the province.

Regis walking the French Basin Trail

A comfortable bed for the night

Dinner at the Church

The Amazing tides of Minas Basin

Rockin'

Australia Rocks!

I have a friend who has a summer retreat in Cape Breton, and on a walk there I discovered fascinating patterns in the sandstone cliffs that I took many pictures of. I meant to do a post on that, and now here in Australia, in a country so different from back home I discovered a little cove with very similar rock patterns. The post therefore will be mostly pictures. The first two are from Nova Scotia, the rest are from Gosford, Australia. Can you tell the difference?

The trees may be different, and the folks down here may speak a lot differently but I think the rocks are pretty much the same.

Cape Breton

 

Cape Breton

Australia

Australia

Australia

Australia

Australia

123 Good Bye

Yes, there is a Volvo under there . .

Over 30 years ago, I bought a 1967 Volvo 123GT. I had just rebuilt another 1967 Volvo including extensive bodywork and a complete engine rebuild, so I thought this much rarer sport model would make an interesting project. There were thousands similar Volvos based on their tough and reliable B18 engine. They were exported all over the world under various names, Volvo 122, Volvo Amazon, and Volvo Canadian. These cars were even manufactured right here in Halifax Nova Scotia for years. Unlike the thousands of “Regular” Volvo 122 style cars, there were only 1500 of the sport model 123Gts manufactured. The 123 I acquired was bought by the original owner while he was stationed in Sweden and then imported to Canada. I drove it home, and parked it in my garage awaiting restoration.

Red and Rusty

I will blame the initial procrastination on my children. With work and two young children, the Volvo got pushed onto a “back burner” for a while. With the arrival of the second child, a new house was designed and built, and I made sure that a nice garage was included in the back yard to house my 123 as it awaited restoration to its former glory.

As the years went by, it got used to store gardening supplies, softball stuff, and even lumber. Thirty years later you could barely see it under all the “Stuff”. Many friends who visited on a regular basis never even knew there was an old Volvo sitting forlornly in the garage.

A good one at the Museum of Transportation.

One good friend who is also a “Volvo Guy” would give me a poke every few years to try to get the project underway, but somehow, something else always got in the way.

“I’ll start working on it next year . . .”

“I’ll begin work on the Volvo once I get settled in the new house . . .”

“I’ll wait until the Children are in school . . .”

“Life is pretty hectic . . . the Volvo will wait a while . . .”

“That old 123 will make a great retirement project . . .”

Need some carburetors?

Well, all of those things came and went, and I seemed busier than ever once I retired, and finally after a couple of years enjoying not working, I came to the realization that I was never going to actually “get to work” on the old Volvo. I put feelers out among the “Volvo People” out there on the Internet, and found out that there was quite a bit of interest in my car. I had a couple of local people come look at it, and had one fellow all the way from Belgium who expressed interest. Finally one fellow from the US, who I had been corresponding with through e-mail finally mentioned “How Much?”.  By this time I had serious doubts if the car could even be brought back. It had been in the garage for over 30 years, but it arrived there in its original red with a heavy dose of Nova Scotia salt-air rust, so I exchanged many pictures of the car's many good points as well as the holes and corrosion. I had driven it home when I bought it, but now the engine would not turn, and the rear brakes were impossible to move. He still wanted it, and we agreed on a price, I arranged to get long lost paperwork and title, and the car was sold. I got a cheque in the mail and he promised he would be up to get the car.

Packed up and ready to go.

He would be up to get it in the spring . . .

He was coming in the summer . . . .

Perhaps the late summer . . .

Fall is the best time to visit Nova Scotia anyway . . .

At this time, the car was no longer officially “mine”, but it was still occupying a spot in my garage, and I just wanted it gone. Twice I was told he was on his way and I got everything ready to transport only to be told he wasn’t able to make it.

Reluctantly onto the truck.

I think he finally realized I was getting annoyed and I was told someone else was going to pick up the car. I reattached the rusty fenders, put the bumper back on, tried to free up the rear wheels, and packed all of the parts I could manage into the interior and the trunk. Two guys arrived with a tip truck and the fact that they kept calling me “Young Fellow” gives some indication of their ages, but together we managed to pull the old Volvo reluctantly out of the garage and onto their truck.

You would think that after living with it for over 30 years I would have been sad to see it go, but in reality I had long ago realized I was never going to drive it again, and I am glad to free up the space in the garage.

Away it goes . .

Now I am thinking that something else might look good there . . . . perhaps a little convertible something?

Off the Grid

We spent a couple of days this summer completely off the “grid”. No power, no running water, no sewer, and no cell service. Our lives are so tied into and around having these “essential” services, that it takes a while to acclimatize to not having power at the flick of a switch or hot water at the turn of a tap.

My sister and her husband built a beautiful “cottage” on a lot overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and invited us to use it. It isn’t really isolated, but when planning turned up protected wetlands, and situating sewage and water proved a problem, they decided to build anyway but go completely “off the grid”.

Water isn’t a real problem, since you can carry it in with you, but carrying out the resulting waste is not a pleasant option, so they quickly found the solution in a composting toilet - better that the traditional outhouse, but still requiring no power or water.

Once you settle into the cottage, life without all the ’essentials’ is actually pretty good. The toilet works great; no smell, and really easy to use and manage. Oil lamps chase away the shadows, and rechargeable lights and battery power work just fine - but there is always the option of just going to bed earlier as the sun goes down, and getting up when it gets light. Once you have no real option, this seems pretty logical. Water for drinking can be carried in, and two big rain barrels provide water for washing and cooking. Probably the biggest issue is with hot water; dishes come cleaner in hot water, and I really don’t enjoy washing in cold water.

There are some advantages too. It is really dark without electricity, and looking to the heavens shows a sky full of stars hidden from our urban neighborhoods, and having to wait to wash the supper dishes until the wash water is hot allows one to relax with another glass of wine while your meal digests. You just have to slow down a bit, and that really isn’t such a bad thing. I will certainly be willing to go back for another visit.

Beach Marbles

Lots of Beach Rocks

Why is it almost impossible to find a perfectly round rock? There are lots of ’rounded’ rocks, and you can find rocks that are perfectly round but flat, but try to find just one that is a perfect sphere; almost impossible.

I call it the search for the perfect beach marble. It is very hard to find a round rock, even harder to find ones  the size of a marble. Why is that?

Someone once told me that the odds of finding a rock on a beach that had actually been worn into a perfect sphere was virtually impossible. He claimed that it would have had to start out close to a perfect cube so that as it was washed and rolled about by the waves and water the corners would slowly get worn down until it was round.

Whenever I visit a rocky beach, I search for my perfect beach marble. I haven’t found one yet. I have a few almost round beach rocks, but not one actually round, and nothing marble sized.

My theory? There are actually lots of round rocks. The continual motion of the waves works to round all rocks to perfect spheres. It is just that as soon as a rock becomes an exact round shape, the ’roundness’ exerts itself, and one of the guiding principles of a sphere takes over and it begins to roll. As we know, anything that rolls, naturally rolls down hill.

Almost round . . .

So . . . once the perfect beach marble achieves roundness, the motion of the waves rolls it not back and forth, but just ’forth’; always down hill. Yup, somewhere in the deepest of ocean trenches, unexplored by mankind, lie thousands of perfectly round rocks. Scattered among them are my elusive ’beach marbles’.

But, the search continues. One day I will come across a rock just as it loses that bit that kept it from being truly round but before it begins it’s journey down.