travels with janne

During my travels through New Brunswick and Nova Scotia I stay at bed & breakfasts. I have been incredibly lucky to have chosen ones that have beautiful locations, sumptuous breakfasts and great hospitality.

One of the places I sleep in is a former lighthousekeeper guest house. It is located right on the edge of the cliff at Cape d’Or in Nova Scotia and provides amazing views of the water and the sky.

A peregrine falcon perches on a lofty rock, scouting the area for food. Eider ducks bob on the restless water. Salty waves crash against the rocks. Then the fog rolls in, smothering the sights and dampening the sounds. The fog horn bleats mournfully into the misty stillness. Next morning I furtively wander out in my nightdress to catch the sunrise in the clear morning sky with my camera before crawling back into bed.

The tides in the Bay of Fundy have influenced the life of the people living on its shores.

For generations, fishermen have taken advantage of the tides to set weirs (a kind of fishing net) at low tide. When the high tide washes in, the fish are lured into and caught in the weirs, ready to be gathered in by the fishermen at the next low tide.

The Acadians discovered that the tides also brought in nutrient-rich soil. They built a series of dykes called aboiteaux that made it possible to dam and create new and fertile farmland.

French versus English

And who were the Acadians, you might ask? They were French settlers who had come over to Eastern Canada starting in the late 1600s. The land they settled they called Acadia. The English called it Nova Scotia. What the native people, the Mi’kmaq, who had already been there for thousands of years, called the land, neither the French nor the English were concerned about at that time.

At any rate, back in Europe, the English and the French were battling each other for power in the New World, which affected relations in Nova Scotia/Acadia. It’s a long, sad and involved story that culminated with one of the dark chapters in Canadian history: the expulsion of the Acadians. About 10.000 French-speaking Catholic farmers were kicked out of Nova Scotia by the Brits.

The Acadians ended up in places as far-flung as South America and Europe. Some of the Acadians (pronounced Acajuns in Canada) ended up in Louisiana, where they brought along their French cooking skills. The Acadian recipes mingled with the local spicy fare and evolved into Cajun cuisine for which the area is now famous.

Fortunately for them, many Acadians families found their way back to their roots in Acadia – sometimes generations later – where they now proudly display the Acadian flag alongside a New Brunswick or Nova Scotia flag and a Canadian flag. Farming and fishing still play important roles but less so than in times of yore.

As I drive along the Bay of Fundy coast in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia I see quaint wooden covered bridges and fishing villages. I pass by lakes, forests and marshes and enjoy the unspoiled nature. However, my main goal with this trip along the Bay of Fundy coast is to get a feeling for the impressive tides.

The Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world. It is like a big bathtub in which water periodically sloshes in after which someone pulls the plug, leaving boats, boulders and beaches high and dry. This takes place every 12.5 hours and is controlled by the gravitational force of the moon.

In some places the tide changes are horizontal, so that the edge of the water goes further and further out – in some places as much as five kilometres! In other cases the tides are experienced vertically meaning that the water level is high then low with the changing cycles. The highest recorded difference was 16 metres.

A third variant is the tidal bore. This occurs when a river flows out into the bay while the tide in the bay flows inwards at the same time. The wave created on the front edge of the incoming tide is called a tidal bore. The incoming water moves with up to 15 km per hour. Things have to move fast because 100 billion tonnes of water rush into the bay every day. It would take one year, eight months and four days for that amount of water to flow over the Niagara Falls while in the Bay of Fundy it takes only a few hours.

The ups and downs and backs and forths of the water wash and tumble the sand, pebbles, rocks and seaweed and lay the bottom of the ocean bare every day. Rocks are eroded into nifty shapes, such as the flowerpot-shaped Hopewell Rocks.

The rugged island coastline of the island of Grand Manan has breathtaking views of the cliffs towering above the Bay of Fundy and I spend happy hours hiking in the heights and catching both sunrise and sunset views.

The vegetation, although battered by the marine elements, is wild and diverse. I walk through dense and fragrant shrub and woods that abound with wild asters, daisies, yellow potentilla, rose hip, goldenrod, and butterflies. I even see an apple green snake – the Eastern Green Snake.

An animal that appeals to me much more than the lowly snake is the grandest of them all – the whale. There are lots of them in these waters and Grand Manan used to have whaling. The fisherman preferred the North Atlantic Right Whale (hence the name “right” whale), because this species of whale is friendly and curious. The whales often come right up to the boat, making the unsuspecting whales easier to harpoon. Because of all their fat, they float when they are harpooned, making them easier to haul in.

These characteristics were almost the demise of the Right Whale and they neared extinction. Although they are now protected, they are still the world’s rarest whale. There are only about 450 of them in this area, so it is quite a treat to see a couple of groups of them on a whale-watching trip in the Bay of Fundy. The whales frolic gaily, lifting up their heads almost as if to greet us, showing us their huge backs and that most wonderful of nature’s shapes, their tails, before making their deep dives.

We also see Harbour Porpoise and an Ocean Sunfish, a funny-looking round thing with a fin on its back. It is swimming on its side for some reason, looking like a huge pancake. Atlantic puffins, guillemots, shearwaters and many other seabirds grace the skies. Wilson’ storm petrels fly along the surface of the water, dangling their legs to stir up some fish for an afternoon meal.

Pristine lakes, vast forests, babbling brooks, gushing waterfalls, rushing rivers, bracing ocean, dramatic cliffs, rich history, charming culture, fresh seafood, friendly people, great music scene, the highest tides in the world, the oldest lizard fossil in the world, geological wonders, several UNESCO World Heritage sites, vast tracts of untouched nature, loons, beavers, moose and whales…what more could a girl ask for? The Maritime Provinces in Canada have it all.

Visitors to Canada often suffice with Niagara Falls and the Rocky Mountains. That is a big mistake! Canada has so much more to offer, the Maritime Provinces on Canada’s east coast being one of my favourite spots. For visitors from Europe, like me, the Maritimes have the added bonus of being relatively close to Europe.

I have grown to love this area and feel it is my second home. Let me take you with me on a maritime adventure as I cruise through two of the Maritime provinces, New Brunswick and Nova Scotia.

The trip starts with a rainy drive from the airport in St. John, New Brunswick, to the town of Black Harbour. Here I sit and wait for the ferry in the fog while the fog horn blasts mournfully every few seconds. The fog is so thick that on the ferry ride to the island of Grand Manan in the Bay of Fundy I can barely see the water, let alone the whales and porpoises that are sometimes known to make themselves seen.

Grand Manan is a quiet community of fishermen who make their living catching lobster, herring, scallops, sardines and other delicacies. The fishing villages are quaint and the sunsets from the lighthouses amazing. The tourist scene is very low key.

A delicate pas de deux on a flowery stage, a silent tango in a meadow, a joining of colourful featherweight bodies. It is mating time in the world of butterflies. Two Scarce Coppers sit back to back and share a quiet moment on a daisy while creating the next generation.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine, who is also a butterfly expert, and I enjoy another kind of quiet moment. We quietly observe all the life that flits and flies around us. We have found our way to a place called Addit Hede, supposedly one of the prime butterfly sites in Denmark, on one of the few Saturdays in July 2011 with no rain. Addit Hede is in Central Jutland, between the towns of Silkeborg and Horsens, somewhat well-hidden and not particularly mentioned anywhere where you would search for places to hike or camp.

The wild and peaceful meadows, heaths and forests in this location have given rise to a pleasant biodiversity so we see a nice variety of butterflies, birds, and flowers plus a frog that hops onto my shoe while I am busy photographing a butterfly.

Although it is butterfly mating time, the butterflies are not just focused on sex. They also eat. One of their favourite hangouts seems to be the blue Field Scabious, on which we often spot several butterflies at once, all elbowing for nectar. One of my photos shows several Narrow-Bordered Five Spot Burnets on one flower while another photo has a Ringlet (bottom) sharing space with a Meadow Brown (top) and an unidentified orange butterfly.

The top side of the Scarce Copper is a lovely bright orange that complements every flower it chooses while the White-letter Hairstreak (don’t you just love those names?) with its delicate white W is a kind of alphabet creature.

Kings and queens, castles and forts, intrigues, scandals and wars. The history of Denmark is long and filled with royalty, riches, plots, politics, sex and love. Nowhere is this more evident than in North Zealand, which is also known as “The Kings’ Zealand”.

In the past, large tracts of forest land were set aside for royal hunting and shipbuilding. These woods still dominate much of the landscape. Castles and manors dot the area, reminding us of past power and riches.

I have visited the hugely impressive renaissance period Frederiksborg Castle built in the reign of King Christian IV (1588-1648). The castle is surrounded by a moat. Leading down to the moat and castle is a magnificently orderly baroque garden.

The castle houses Denmark’s most important portrait collection and shows the chronological history of Denmark from the 1500s until the present. All these men and women in their fancy clothes! Silk, velvet, ermine, lace and jewels; they once clothed real people who laughed, cried, talked, walked, dined, gossiped, fell in and out of love (there was seemingly rather a lot of philandering in some cases), and got married according to political plans and designs.

Frederiksborg Castle is proof of the power and wealth of the Danish monarchy at the time. Much as we prefer democracy to absolute monarchy, our present day democracy does not have the same ability to foster such artistic and cultural pearls, such impressive grandeur. The kings had great power and wealth in which to luxuriate; the present system must take more heed of wishes and tastes that pull in different directions.

Just off the southeast coast of Sjælland lies the geologically dramatic island of Møn. I was inspired to visit the area by an 1850 painting by P.C. Skovgaard, which hangs in the Skovgaard Museum in Viborg not far from where I work. I saw the painting in the Easter holiday and was surprised and delighted that Denmark has the kind of landscape portrayed in the painting. From that moment I was determined to see the island in real life.

About 70 million years ago global warming had Denmark covered in water. Calciferous algae and animals lived in the sea. When they died, they didn’t go to heaven, but sank to the bottom of the sea, creating a thick layer of chalk on the seabed. Later, the earth cooled and glaciers formed. More than 12,000 years ago the glaciers pushed and grunted and shoved so much that parts of the chalk layer collided head on with each other and were pushed upwards, forming what can now be seen as beautiful white cliffs.

The cliffs rise straight up from the water and are now covered with gentle beech forests. The calcium-rich soil also nourishes 18 different kinds of orchids. I walk along the edge of the cliff with dramatic seaside views on one side and verdant woods on the other side. A long stairway leads down to the beach and the promise of fossil-hunting. When I get down to sea level I discover that the tide is up, so it is not possible to walk without getting wet or, even worse, caught in the waves.

The cliffs erode about 2-4 cm per year, sometimes dropping huge chunks that tumble down to the beach. That makes for rather precarious beachcombing, so I walk back up the 497 steps, puffing and panting until I finally reach the top. I can see how the water is coloured milky white from the chalk that erodes from the cliffs and is washed into the sea, from where it dissolves and disperses.

The air hangs heavy with the smell of lilacs that bloom in shades of purple and white as we pass by the flowering gardens of Fanø. Quaint, pretty and well-maintained, the towns of Sønderho (300 inhabitants) and its larger cousin Nordby in the north of Fanø cling proudly to their history and heritage. The houses are 200-300 years old and reflect prosperous times gone by, when Fanø was in its marine merchant heyday.

In contrast to many other places along the west coast, with their honky-tonk smell of grill bars and endless rows of summer cottages, shops and discoteques, Fanø manages to feel like a place that is not totally de-populated in the winter and not totally commercial in the summer. It is cosy, traditional, historic and friendly.

Lush gardens abound. Tall, leafy trees, fragrant bushes and melodic birds make a perfect framework for the colourful, old, thatched roof houses, the cobbled streets and the narrow, beaten earth alleys. The old seafarers made sure they had something really good to come home to.

As if the visual delights are not enough Fanø also has food to die for. It houses one of the most renowned restaurants in Denmark, Sønderho Kro, that leaves us swooning with gastronomic pleasure. It has been an inn continuously since 1722 and is one of the oldest inns in Denmark with royal privileges. You can also buy goodies to take home in the numerous shops in Sønderho and Nordby offering tempting local delicacies such as lamb and fennel sausage, North Sea cheese and heather honey.

Fanø is geologically young having emerged from the North Sea on the west coast of Jutland only about 10,000 years ago. The area is part of the Wadden Sea, where thousands of migrating birds make pit stops on their migratory routes. Fanø is also home to seals, some of which you can wander out to have a look at when the tide is out. Low tide, after a storm, is also the time to look for amber, which abounds on the beaches in Fanø. You need a sharp eye, experience and talent to spot it, though! Inland, much of the island is covered with forest and heath, ideal for cycling and walking.