I recognize that there's so much more to Nova Scotia than just these towns, but I needed to start somewhere. I had a short window of time to explore a place geographically larger than Switzerland, all while working full time and enjoying all the usual summer events. I chose to explore towns as I believe that every town tells a unique story, and that for over a decade I lived in a small town in New Brunswick and I have very fond memories of that place.
Before I continue, I want to take the opportunity to thank those who traveled to some of these towns with me – my aunt Eileen, my sister Conor, my parents (Blaine and Anita), and my friends Lori and Aria. I also want to thank everyone who took the time to read about and share my travels, particularly Mulgrave, which for some strange reason went viral one day.
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| Hi there Mulgrave! |
The goal at the end of this project was to gain some perspective on what it means to be Nova Scotian. So here's what I found:
It means understanding our story. Nova Scotia's story began 13,000 years ago and I was happy to find that most of the museums that I was able to visit had at least some representation of the Mi'kmaq culture, as it is the bedrock on which everything else in this province was built. Nova Scotians come from a wide range of backgrounds. I found this in the thousands of acres farmlands created by the Acadians in the Annapolis Valley, the British Loyalist themed crosswalks in Shelburne, the German welcome signs in Lunenburg, the Syrian chocolate bars in Antigonish, the ever-present Scottish fiddle music. We are a mosaic of backgrounds, each with its own fascinating story, sharing one place.
It means understanding the sacrifice that people made. It was truly humbling to find so many memorials to fishermen lost at sea in the coastal towns that I visited. During its history, the port in Lunenburg alone lost 690 men. There were also many mining disasters in the early (and very unsafe) mines. Many immigrants, whether 300 years ago or today, had to take incredible risks for the opportunity to build a life here.
It means feeding the body, mind and soul. Knowing that with $20 in your pocket you can enjoy an amazing fresh seafood dish. It means that wherever you go and whatever your tastes, you can enjoy a delicious locally crafted drink. And knowing that this amazing combination of food and drink pairs excellently with the views, whether it be rolling hills, forests or oceanside.
It means feeling frustrated. That, as a resident, I couldn't order a copy of the “Doers and Dreamers” Visitor's guide online but was instead directed to download it (because who doesn't want to read a 208 page document on their smartphone?) or pick one up at a Visitor's Centre, a feat which took FOUR trips to the Halifax waterfront location this spring to accomplish. Frustrated that more than 27% of the museums I visited this summer during normal business hours were closed. Frustrated at the inaccurate (or entirely missing) information online, or signs pointing me to places that didn't exist. Frustrated that the online Mi'kmaq Digital Atlas, a resource containing a wealth of information on place names and meanings went down halfway through my project. Frustrated at finding too many hidden treasures in my travels and from hearing too many people tell me “I had no idea” that a certain place or event existed.
It means we got some work to do. According to the Ivany Report, tourism is a two billion dollar industry in this province, with projections that we could double this by 2024. Is this goal achievable? Certainly. We have all the right ingredients but from what I've seen the oven is a bit wonky. Tourism is a precious ecosystem and requires a holistic approach to succeed.
One summer while working at the Nova Scotia Highland Village Museum in Iona, a couple of American tourists stopped at the top of the hill there overlooking the beautiful Bras d'Or Lakes and I overheard one tell the other, “Well, now I know where God hid heaven.” Growing up here we tend to take a lot for granted. We don't realize what an amazing gift it is to be surrounded by so much natural beauty and to enjoy a way of life that most of the world would envy. Get to know this place. Whether in these towns or your own neighbourhood. Go out. Explore. Eat at a local restaurant. And when you go there, ask for a locally produced drink. Do your own version of my little checklist tailored to your interests. Discover your own paradise, right here at home.
It means understanding our story. Nova Scotia's story began 13,000 years ago and I was happy to find that most of the museums that I was able to visit had at least some representation of the Mi'kmaq culture, as it is the bedrock on which everything else in this province was built. Nova Scotians come from a wide range of backgrounds. I found this in the thousands of acres farmlands created by the Acadians in the Annapolis Valley, the British Loyalist themed crosswalks in Shelburne, the German welcome signs in Lunenburg, the Syrian chocolate bars in Antigonish, the ever-present Scottish fiddle music. We are a mosaic of backgrounds, each with its own fascinating story, sharing one place.
It means understanding the sacrifice that people made. It was truly humbling to find so many memorials to fishermen lost at sea in the coastal towns that I visited. During its history, the port in Lunenburg alone lost 690 men. There were also many mining disasters in the early (and very unsafe) mines. Many immigrants, whether 300 years ago or today, had to take incredible risks for the opportunity to build a life here.
It means feeding the body, mind and soul. Knowing that with $20 in your pocket you can enjoy an amazing fresh seafood dish. It means that wherever you go and whatever your tastes, you can enjoy a delicious locally crafted drink. And knowing that this amazing combination of food and drink pairs excellently with the views, whether it be rolling hills, forests or oceanside.
It means feeling frustrated. That, as a resident, I couldn't order a copy of the “Doers and Dreamers” Visitor's guide online but was instead directed to download it (because who doesn't want to read a 208 page document on their smartphone?) or pick one up at a Visitor's Centre, a feat which took FOUR trips to the Halifax waterfront location this spring to accomplish. Frustrated that more than 27% of the museums I visited this summer during normal business hours were closed. Frustrated at the inaccurate (or entirely missing) information online, or signs pointing me to places that didn't exist. Frustrated that the online Mi'kmaq Digital Atlas, a resource containing a wealth of information on place names and meanings went down halfway through my project. Frustrated at finding too many hidden treasures in my travels and from hearing too many people tell me “I had no idea” that a certain place or event existed.
It means we got some work to do. According to the Ivany Report, tourism is a two billion dollar industry in this province, with projections that we could double this by 2024. Is this goal achievable? Certainly. We have all the right ingredients but from what I've seen the oven is a bit wonky. Tourism is a precious ecosystem and requires a holistic approach to succeed.
One summer while working at the Nova Scotia Highland Village Museum in Iona, a couple of American tourists stopped at the top of the hill there overlooking the beautiful Bras d'Or Lakes and I overheard one tell the other, “Well, now I know where God hid heaven.” Growing up here we tend to take a lot for granted. We don't realize what an amazing gift it is to be surrounded by so much natural beauty and to enjoy a way of life that most of the world would envy. Get to know this place. Whether in these towns or your own neighbourhood. Go out. Explore. Eat at a local restaurant. And when you go there, ask for a locally produced drink. Do your own version of my little checklist tailored to your interests. Discover your own paradise, right here at home.
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| Annapolis Royal |
