We set out for Halifax at about 9:30 and drove down Highway #212 towards the airport where we looked for Highway #102. Access to highway 102, which we wanted, was bizarre. We drove along the airport, past a Pratt and Whitney plant, then turned right, drove along the other side of the airport, until we found the access point. Then we drove down 102, a good 4 lane highway, to Halifax. In Halifax, we continued to follow #102 down city streets right to the harbour. Then we found a parking garage--$15.00 for the day and evening—and parked on the 4^th floor. We didn’t see elevators and I note that the walk down the staircases, and back up later, was a little dizzying.

Halifax’s harbour front is beautifully developed with shops, street vendors, museums, ships, buskers, and open water. We went into some of the touristy shops in one of the buildings and enjoyed poking around for a while. I found a really nice pewter key ring, and we bought some shirts and other items.

We walked along the boardwalk where we could see most of the harbour. A baby seal had found it’s way into a small inlet on the shore side of the boardwalk. I thought he was dying. The kids wanted to help him, but we didn’t think much could be done, and it appeared to me that some other people had already notified the "authorities". The baby seal lay on the rocks, waving it’s flipper and occasionally moving it’s tail. Later in the day, we noted that it had either swum away or been removed. Most likely it had died.

Then we walked along for a while until we found the Maritime Museum. The cost to get in was really reasonable-- $10.00 for a family of five—and the displays are terrific. There are many complete boats and parts of boats, a section on the war, with particular focus on the merchant marine, submarines, and so on. Upstairs was a display on the age of steam, including a working model (not in use) of a steam reciprocating engine, many scale models of well-known steamers, and navigational tools. Also upstairs, which we skipped as the kids became restless, was a section on sailing. We’ll have to catch that next time.

The two most moving and powerful displays, by far, were the section devoted to the Halifax explosion and to the Titanic. Firstly, there were a couple of pieces of oak woodwork from one of the first class ante-rooms, which was recovered from the sea after the disaster. The woodwork on this was incredible, flowers cared in detailed relief. Beside it was a deck chair, also recovered from the debris. There were several panels describing the disaster in detail and Halifax’ considerable role in handling the bodies afterwards. More than 200 bodies were brought to Halifax in the days following the sinking. Many were buried there, in a graveyard we visited later.

In a separate display area was a large tribute to the Halifax explosion. On a December day in 1917, the Imo, a Norwegian ship, was departing Halifax harbour for the high seas. At the same time, a munition ship, the Mont Blanc, was entering the harbour fully loaded with explosives and benzene. Through miscommunications or just plain stubborn refusal to give up a lane, the Mont Blanc steered directly into the path of the Imo, which caused it to slice into the bow of the Mont Blanc, igniting a fire. The crew of the Mont Blanc rapidly evacuated the ship and screamed ineffectually at the observers on shore to flee. A fire-fighting tug boat came out to try to put out the fire as the ship drifted towards the docks on the Halifax side. Twenty minutes later, the Mont Blanc exploded creating the largest man-made explosion in history (until the atomic bomb), and devastating a large portion of Halifax. More than 2,000 people were instantly killed. We were especially touched by the acknowledgements of aid from the State of Massachusetts and the City of Chicago (which had freshly emerged from its own disastrous fire). The display was very well done, clearly explained the disaster, and told some of the many personal tragedies that occurred.

We then went outside and toured the Arcadia, a ship used for exploration and mapping of oceans around the world and now retired. The tour was somewhat limited but it was nice to see a ship close up. I am always fascinated at how wonderfully efficient ship’s designers can be when they need to be. Another ship from the Canadian navy was tied up and available for tours but we passed.

On the boardwalk, there were two accordion buskers, both older women. One of them sang along with her playing. We dropped a few loonies in her case and walked on.

After the museum, we walked a little further along the harbour front and observed a large ocean-going passenger liner at dock. Then we walked down some of the downtown streets, did some shopping for papers, magazines, books, and toys, and then went to find dinner. We ended up eating at Pizza Delite. Just before we went in, we noticed a busker, a man playing guitar, about 50 years old, with a wonderful, ragged sea-farer’s voice. We listened for a while and he asked us where we were from. Then he played a far more effective version of "Farewell to Nova Scotia" than the one on the compilation tape we purchased earlier at the Nova Scotia Tourist Information kiosk near New Glasgow.

We then found our car back and drove off to find the cemetery where bodies from the Titanic were buried. I will note here that, like many other people, the woman in the tourist office who gave us good instructions to find the cemetery, mistakenly referred to the "survivors" being buried there. This is an old trivia trick: Where were the survivors of the Titanic disaster buried? Answer: nowhere—they don’t bury survivors. Anyway, following her instructions, we made a misstep or two but found the main drive into the cemetary and immediately saw a sign that read, simply, "Titanic" and pointed further on. We rounded a curve and came to a cross-roads, without further explanation. However, Helen had noticed another sign over to the right, so we turned that way and soon found it. There was another simple sign, the one Helen had noticed, and two long rows of grave stones. This was as moving, or moreso, than the Halifax explosion exhibit was. Many of the graves have no names on them; some are larger stones with verses. One monument stands for the unidentified children that died. One contains an epigraph: erected by J. Bruce Ismay, who was the owner (actually, the President of White Star) of the Titanic. We took a few pictures, looked at all the stones.

A young couple with a child was walking along the graveyard road. We asked them for directions to Canadian Tire and he gave us good ones. We found the store. It hadn’t closed at 8:30 as we had feared- and bought a replacement for our air mattress. Then we picked up some groceries, a Tim Horton’s Coffee, and headed back to camp.

Once again, the junction of 212 and highway 102 was very confusing, at the airport. We nearly ran into a van in a merging lane while trying to understand where the highway went to. We drove past a Pratt and Whitney Plant, the wrong way, I thought, and then found the right road. On the way, we saw a young deer emerge from the forest, then jump back in. In the park, no one was in the booth, but a ranger with a flashlight emerged from a little trailer home and okayed us. Then we saw a porcupine strolling along the road.

The campsite was considerably warmer than the harbour-front had been. We had the usual squabbles among the kids at bed time.

In general, Halifax is a beautiful city, situated right on a steep incline away from the harbour. The citadel commands a view from the top of a hill right downtown, the stores are interesting and well-staffed, the buses are busy and regular, and there is a wide assortment of restaurants and vendors. Many of the touristy items were expensive, but generally of good quality. The harbour front itself should not be missed. It offers a wonderful view of the bay and pleasant place to sit and eat or just people watch.

On the drive there and back, we noticed many "Wrong Way" signs posted in the opposite lanes, obviously for people who had somehow wandered into the wrong lanes. We have seen this before, at least, where the off-ramps are, but were a little mystified by the repetition of these signs further down the road, where there were no ramps. I explained that some Newfoundlanders are really stubborn and probably tell themselves, "Well now, I’ll just have a look in the mirror and see if I see the same sign, and if I don’t, then I’ll assume I’m right. But geezus, look at these other crazy people. And another one. And another one. And another one." Or how about, "Well officer, I figured why would they have signs there for me to read if they didn’t expect me to be driving there?"