We spent a quiet day having a fried egg breakfast and then driving down to the famous Peggy’s Cove. The drive down was interesting. The roads, as they are in many areas of the maritimes, were bouncy and sometimes scary: lots of hairpin turns and "S" curves. There are many, many arts and crafts stores, most them in homes, along the route. Our experience has been that you usually end up talking to the artisan him or herself, which gives you an added personal touch to the experience of buying.

Peggy’s Cove, as we expected, was over-run with tourists, but the town has done a good job of maintaining it’s rustic atmosphere. The population is only 60 and we counted about 35 houses from our view on one of the high rocks. The lighthouse is picturesque, freshly painted. The sight of the waves pounding the rocks along the shore was truly awesome. The fishing boats in the harbour were also charming.

We strolled around for a while, checked out a couple of art galleries and craft stores, and then, after buying a wooden snake for Christopher, hit the road. We had checked out a DeGarthe gallery but the paintings were not all that impressive and the prices were extremely steep. Maybe because he’s dead. Then, down the road, we stopped at another gallery with some unusual metal sculptures in front of it. The proprietor, who turned out to be one of the collective of artists represented, was out having a smoke and immediately began a conversation with us. She turned out to be from Galt, Ontario.

We went into the gallery and I was immediately impressed by the art: this was not the traditional tourist fare. There were some very unusual portraits of faces all out of perspective and misshapen, and some very striking acrylic works, of traditional subject matter for the area, but displaying far more personality than most of the water colours we have seen up until now. It took us quite some time to decide on which one to buy but we finally settled on a beautiful landscape, somewhat reminiscent of Northern Ontario, by a reclusive man named Jim Cleveland, who lived out in the woods with his wife and children. The woman showed us a picture of him: he looked like Grizzly Adams. It was also very refreshing to talk to a proprietor who was more interested in what we liked about the art than in its investment value. She, in turn, liked us, and liked the fact that a) I came in to look as well as my wife (most husbands don’t) and the kids took an interest in picking the painting. She was also very tickled about my description of how we allocate $20.00 a month for "art". She wanted us to meet one of the other artists but she wasn’t available.

Then we stopped at Nine of Cups, a pottery store. This again was in a home refurbished as a show room. It turns out that Helen had seen some of her work at the Nova Scotia Museum of Art. The artisan was busy at the wheel when we arrived and Helen bought several pieces to give as gifts to the Huiniks for taking care of our dog and Pierre and Dominique, the neighbors who looked after our pool. The artisan’s name was Sarah MacMillan.

Then we went back to the campsite, stopping on the way for groceries and coffee and fuel. We made a large dinner around 8:00 of potatoes, sausages, beans, and Ceaser’s salad and apple sauce. When it was dark, we again went swimming in Dollar Lake. Danielle felt something move under her feet, let out a little yelp, and flailed her way to safety. Shortly after that, she, Helen, and Christopher got out of the water. Paul and I shortly followed.

I discovered that one of my sandals has pulled a strap out from its binding, so I may have to buy another one tomorrow. Or I may need to wear the running shoes, which might be a pain because of a blister I have on the one foot.

We have seen few people swimming in the saltwater throughout our trip. Most of the swimming seems to take place at the numerous in-land lakes and rivers. People have been generally pleasant, but not always friendly or outgoing. The exceptions were often people who moved here from Ontario.

We were not sure about what to do about whale watching. We decided that it would be unlikely that we would find a vacancy at a campground near Digby on Saturday, so we will book another night here and then leave for Digby on Sunday. Then we will have to determine when the ferry leaves for Saint John’s, and if we can get a reservation on a whale-watching tour from Tiverton.

I sent a postcard to Christian Horizons from Peggy’s Cove saying, simply: "REBOOT!" And "beautiful weather, terrific scenery. See you in a week!"

The noisy teenage boys in the site next to us appear to have been evicted: they were packing up at 8:00 p.m. Another family moved into the site across the road, so our short access to the showers has been cut off. We now have to walk a considerable distance down the road and then down a trail to the showers. The mosquitoes are quite bad but we are managing with the aide of campfires and repellant.