Clear skies, minimal wind, and ripples upon ripples of brilliant Bay of Fundy waters accompanied our southbound trek on Water Street
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Only a handful of pedestrians were spotted during our stay: a few dog-walkers (presumably local) and a small group of camera wielders (presumably tourists such as ourselves).
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We passed by a small farmer's market-style event, then concluded the walk at the Visitor Information Centre.
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Few things complement a waterfront walk as seamlessly as ice cream does. That said, it was only fitting of me to suggest popping into a convenience store to fill that void.
Where Kawartha is the sole - and much overrated - option back home, East Coast was home to Scotsburn. Delectable yet fast-dissolving, there was not a single utterance of regret as we demolished the two scoops of Chocolate and Espresso.
Where Kawartha is the sole - and much overrated - option back home, East Coast was home to Scotsburn. Delectable yet fast-dissolving, there was not a single utterance of regret as we demolished the two scoops of Chocolate and Espresso.
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Continuing on our lengthiest drive of the trip, the next stop was Yarmouth.
The single point of interest for me was the Tim Hortons outpost, where I had hoped to find the last of the Smile Cookies but grew dismayed at learning their sold-out status.
The single point of interest for me was the Tim Hortons outpost, where I had hoped to find the last of the Smile Cookies but grew dismayed at learning their sold-out status.
Yarmouth was a particularly amusing stop that brought about a great deal of laughter; we termed it "Yuckmouth", for one could smell the port and all of its floating garbage even before nearing it. (Please note that the intent of this nickname is purely for humour and not intended to offend the town's residents.)
Finally, we traversed along an eerily quiet path named Lighthouse Trail in search of Shag Habour. Frankly, the name was ill-fitting, considering we only spotted a total of three lighthouses - one of which was privately owned (ie. lawn decor).
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The UFO crash site was denoted by a small, tarnished street sign and a lobster figure painted to reflect its historic past. Nearby was an observation hut detailing the history of the paranormal incident, as well as a deserted Interpretation Centre.
Snapping several shots to mark our visit, we retreated back to the car once again.
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A final stop was made at Tim Hortons for an all-too-depressing Grilled Cheese sandwich.
And with that, we hopped onto the highway, leaving the sunset behind us and driving into complete darkness. (I kid you not: there was not a streetlamp nor road marking in sight.)
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