Saturday – Sydney, Nova Scotia

Yesterday, during my classes, I made a shortlist of items that I seem to be running short of or need replacing, with the intention of replenishing them when we next land somewhere with an art shop, or a good stationers. My short shopping list consists of; Pencils, Erasers, Pencil Sharpeners and Craft Knives (I only have the one to share around everyone when we’re doing any sort of scratching-out). I folded-up and slipped the list into my pocket so that I wouldn’t forget it.

When I’d finished for the day, and retired to my cabin, I took out the list and tossed it onto the bedside table, then got myself ready for dinner.

Later, after the show, when I returned to the cabin, there was a knock on the door; it was my cabin steward. He invited himself in, apologising profusely, pointing to the list, upon which now lay a pencil (which I hadn’t noticed). He apologised that he had only been able to acquire the pencil, but couldn’t get the other items on the list. Bless him! I explained that the list wasn’t for him… it was for me… he really seemed to believe that I’d expected him to find them for me…

Apart from the early knock on the first sea-day, Than (that’s his name, not a spelling mistake) has been an absolute treasure; reporting the problem with the heating very efficiently – not once, but twice, and sorting out a problem with the safe. He’s also taken to calling me ‘Mr Peter’, and rushing to open my cabin door for me if he sees me approaching it when I’ve got my hands full (usually of John Smith takeouts).

Today, we arrived in Sydney in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia.

Nova Scotia means ‘New Scotland’, and Cape Breton is described in its tourist leaflets as ‘The Celtic Heart of North America’.

I was on tour today, and to emphasise the Celtic-ness off the area, my guide, bearded ‘Navy Nick’, turned up proudly sporting a kilt.

Our visit today was only a half-day, so being put on tour was cutting things a little tight for me. To make sure that I would be prepared for this afternoon’s classes (on painting simple figures), I was up at 6:30am, setting the room up. How dedicated is that? Actually, it wasn’t just dedication; I’d gone to bed early on account of my cold just starting to take hold, so I beat the alarm, and just figured that setting the room up before breakfast seemed like a good idea.

In some ways, I would like to have taken a proper look at Sydney. There was a colourful parade taking place in the town, and the terminal had fast wi-fi. At 8:15am, however, I was shaking hands with Navy Nick and ushering people onto the coach, for a 45-minute trip to The Fortress of Louisbourg.

Having seen a few forts in my time, I wasn’t massively excited at the prospect of this tour, but in the end, I rather enjoyed it.

Our 45-minute journey gave us a glimpse into Nova Scotia life; it being Saturday, there were lots of ‘Sidewalk Sales’; what I believe they call in America, Garage Sales, and we call car-boot sales. I also noticed that there was a high number of large RVs parked in people’s drives. I Also noticed, however, that most of the little car parks and laybys we passed were sporting ‘No RVs signs’. Slightly anti-motorhome, then… remarkably like the blinkered attitude of the North Yorkshire Council down the east coast, around Whitby and Scarborough.

Like any other large fortress, the Fortress of Louisbourg is a sprawling collection of barracks, storehouses, forges, bakeries, and apartments. What made this rather fun was the people, dressed in period costume, who inhabited the buildings and, to all intent and purpose, seemed to be going about the daily life of an 18th Century fortress, like a living museum. The Fortress was one of the most extensive and expensive fortifications ever to be built in North America.

I kind of lost track of the history lesson somewhere along the way. It seems like it was French, subjected to multiple attacks from the English (but I could be wrong). At various points during our visit, we had musical accompaniment from fife and drums; a musketeer told us of how life was for him in the fort, and demonstrated how he loaded and fired his rifle. The piece de resistence, though, was a display in the Kings Bastion (a large, fortified courtyard), culminating in a firing of one of the cannons. All good stuff!

I don’t wish to speak ill of Navy Nick because, essentially, he was a good guide. But I don’t think he stopped talking from the moment he introduced himself to the coach-load of passengers until returning to the port. Enthusiastic guides can be entertaining, but I do wish they’d learn when to take a break and let the experience speak for itself once in a while.

Back at the ship, I had 45 minutes to catch lunch before opening the craft room for today’s lessons. By the end of the day, my cold had increased its presence to defcon 1… I’m hoping an early night and a rummage through the first aid kit, that Tracey packed for me, will give it something to think about.

Tomorrow, we have another half-day, when we arrive in Charlottetown… and I’m on tour again…