Halifax pt.3/Canso pt.1

We got up early for breakfast at 9. We walk downstairs and into the dining room to be greeted by our dining partners - a pregnant priest and her husband, a priest. That's what they called themselves, by the way, though I thought that Anglican wo/men of the cloth called themselves ministers. Yeah, so they were these two Episcopalian priests, one with child. I don't believe her to be a virgin, but if the baby is Jesus, I'll have a sick story.
Turns out they were in town for the election of a new bishop for the region. We talked about the obvious connection of election-election and it was only slightly awkward until we were all sure that the other crew was in sync politically. Good thing we didn't have to kick some pregnant priest ass.
I'm happy to have had the opportunity to write that.

After breakfast, we got our stuff together and drove a few blocks to the Citadel to actually go inside. Turns out a lot of history has been commemorated there. It mostly has a lot to do with how stoked they are to have never revolted against the British.
They shoot a canon off at noon, and that was loud.
Walked around, ate pub food at an Irish pub, got in the car and on the road.
The whole time, it's raining on and off, by the way. We are prepared, however, and have yet to be daunted.
Got started and were immediately saved by the wonders of GPS. As we were getting on the highway to go over the bridge (remember the bridges? the two matching ones with the orange stripes? right?), I see terrible traffic ahead and cross two lanes to take the other tine. It was a true demonstration of my faith in a higher power - satellites.
The next few hours were spent flying along the highway at 110, which in kilometers is slower than a person might think. It was raining and blowing wind the whole way, so that was exciting. It's a lot of driving through farmland and past trees.
We got to Antigonish and tried to get in touch with old friends of the family but failed. Some planning could have helped.  

We pushed on to Canso to get in before dark.
Ah, Canso. The place of my birth and first two years.
Canso is the smallest place ever. The population these days is about 900 and looks it.
We're staying in a lovely B&B right on the pier, about 100 feet away from where the fish processing plant is being demolished. Turns out, thanks to poor fishing policies, there isn't any more fish. Hm.
There was a great dinner ready for us, which we totally didn't expect and it was delicious. The owners of the place are this lovely english couple - she's a PhD in something and came out here as a life-changer five years ago. Not sure about him, but he's nice. After dinner - with wine! - we went for a walk around to see if we could find the my parent's house. Based on what they told me, I think we did, but we'll take pictures to be sure. Walked around more in the strong winds and rain coming off of the open Atlantic Ocean.
The only things open, of the five or so businesses in town were the Kwik-Mart and this other thing. Outside of the Kwik-Mart were a bunch of kids hanging out. Can't be much else to do on a Friday night in Canso. Either that or hang out in front of the high school. Which they then did, right across the street.
The other thing open looked like a cool old brick building on the outside, but is all these cubicles on the inside with what looked like telemarketers sitting in them. Maybe just way to create jobs for people now that the fish are all gone.
Walk, walk, walk then back home.
The internet works so I write, she reads.
All is good.