Debzizhere: February 2016

I texted Arnab, “Are we taking backpacks or rolling bags?” Skype ping very next moment- “Rolling bags”- Father and daughter’s voice high with alarm. I reckoned our resume of shared adventures had made them a tad weary. So we decided to skip camping.

I set fire to my wanderlust, boarded the Northumberland ferry at Woodland, Prince Edward Island. The ferry dropped anchor at Caribou, Nova Scotia after 75 minute ride. A slight breeze brought relief from the heat. We drove down to Pictou and checked into the Braeside Country Inn, set amongst lines of lovely birch trees. Everything was manicured and maintained around the inn. Antique brocades and oriental rugs adorned the lobby; punctuating the hallway were large oriental vases with green foliage. We had a small room upstairs painted in pink and blue, few paintings on the wall; the main attraction being an antique radio on top of the television stand. Arnab turned on the radio and Voila- Adele’s “Let the sky fall” filled out our tired limbs. I looked out through the skirted window overlooking the strait and felt the whiff of cool breeze on my face.

At the Salt Water Café

Pictou holds symbolic importance in Nova Scotia’s history. This is where the ship Hector carrying the first Scottish settlers to Nova Scotia dropped anchor in 1773. Later in the evening, we walked down the Caladh Ave by the waterfront and had dinner at Saltwater café which opens onto the harbor, right next to Hector Quay museum. The café was full of happy, beautiful, tanned people of all ages, seated on red and white plastic chairs at the verandah, tapping feet to the languid guitar music from the rock band playing at the quay side. We toasted with Uncle Leo’s Red Ale, devoured heaped plates of seafood, finally ending with a “blueberry grunt”. The open walls of the café on the waterfront had a “Samoan fale” feel. Sitting like a massive birthday cake on the horizon was a pulp and paper mill at Abercrombie on the opposite shore of the bay, with white smoke floating out of the chimney. It appeared to Arnab as a burning castle while it reminded me of J.M. Turner’s oil painting – “The Fighting Temeraire”.

Blueberry grunt!

Paper mill at Abercrombie

Next morning we piled into our car, stopped at Grohmann knives factory, explored the world’s renowned handcrafted knives and then headed out towards Cape Breton island. The thrill of being on the road has always been wed for me, to the thrill of never knowing what a day might involve, knowing only that I’d say “yes”. On the way we stopped at Judique beach for a picnic lunch. After a brisk 20 minute walk through the woods, we had a secluded shore all to ourselves, watched only by the tall pine, birch and oak trees whispering to each other in the wind. We spread a blanket, shed layers of clothes down to bathing suits and sat down for a bit. Sreeja and Arnab played catch ball and a little rock pooling. When I remember that day, I cannot help but think about how a place can look so different when we first arrive from the place we later leave. How experience transforms the shape and color of things.

As the sun was sinking down, we pulled up outside a convenience store at Inverness. Charming is an understatement for this special town- Inverness in Cape Breton island, a former coal mining town, with its subtle sophistication, savvy smarts and whimsy. Truly a step back in time, two small grocery stores, few restaurants, golf courses, couple of bars and number of places to stay. It’s beautiful, restful and unique.

Judique beach

After the Deeside detour, we reached the Glenora distillery, which sits isolated in a high plateau between the mountain ranges. This is a spectacularly beautiful part of Inverness and we were rewarded with exceptional vista.

We drove past the bespoke casks, resting in the front of the distillery that sits right on Maclellan’s brook. The brook carries soft, crystal, clear water from twenty springs that flow out of red Cape Breton highlands granite and Mabou highlands marble, right through the distillery that is spread over 265 hectares of pristine landscape. The brook bounces rock to rock on its way to Gulf of St Lawrence. A 3785 Kilolitre water holding reservoir in front of the distillery ensures that, regardless of seasonal water levels in the brook, Maclellan water is always available for distillation and for use if ever needed to put out a fire.

We checked into the adjoining nine-room, six chalet post and beam inn with its fine dining room. The key to the rooms were real and not temperamental pieces of plastic. The décor was upscale but not too fancy. The mahogany furniture, oil paintings and view of the rolling hill sides were all very hard to surpass.

In the tranquil golden haze over the garden along with bird song and the smell of hedges, clear frothy brook water gliding over the rocks, I sat still sipping a dram from Glenora Distillery and for a second was teleported back to an era of a whiskey’s gentlemanly interlude with a raked path and a gleaming Rolls- Royce in the garage. This is a mountainous part of Cape Breton where streams gush over granite, heather hills, and green glens while inducing interesting flavors and aromas to the malt. The rolling hills engulfed in the mountain air under the clear sky made for a beautiful twilight setting. We had our dinner at the elegant dining room; its ceiling to floor windows bringing in the outdoors. We enjoyed a tasting menu, which started with salad, fresh salmon and ended with cheese cake.

The Still-house- Distillation process

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, we signed up for a guided tour of the distillery. Glenora is the first and only single malt brewery not only in Canada but the entire North American continent. The word whiskey originates from the Gaelic phrase “Uisge beatha” which literally means water of life. Malt whiskey is the marriage of water, malted barley and yeast. This apparently simple recipe belies the complexity of a drink made up of different hues, aromas and tastes.

The malted barley is trucked in from Alberta and stored in a forty ton grain silo. Each day, 4 days in a week, a new batch of whisky production begins with barley and yeast being transferred from the silos into a two roller grinder. The distillery now produces 50,000 liters of whisky each year finally settled as a respectable 10 year spirit named Glen Breton Rare in its core expression. The spirits are yet to be available commercially. The distillery is building its inventory since 1993, when production first started and expects its range of fine single malts to be commercially available within next years.

In the afternoon we played 9 holes at the famed Cabot Links golf course. We hit across a rugged slice of land near the Northumberland Strait, with holes laid out along the scenic coast. It is a game of accuracy and one with focus should do well. However if one misses the accuracy and over hits, trouble will be found following all over the golf course. Golf Historians says that the game originated from the ancient stick-whacks-ball pursuits in Rome, Holland and China, but the seaside Scots developed golf into the game we play today. A Link is any rough grassy area between the sea and the land. The sea winds, lumpy fairways, kinked putting surface all added up to the challenge, so that it’s not about knocking the ball over the golf course, but playing through one. There are nice vistas from several spots on the course. 9^th hole adjacent to the coast is a protected plateau, rewarding golfers with a wonderful view but a biting challenge. Sweeping wind with the scenic drama that renders this seaside hole, both a golfers delight and a photographer’s fantasy. Cabot Links encourage golfers to walk thus we did not have any guidance from the GPS, usually installed in the golf carts. I had studied the course map, but somehow at the end of 6 holes, I was all lost. The wispy long grass blocked our view of the hole. All 3 of us used our own golf imagination and hit the ball in 3 different directions. Arnab directed to the left that is to the waterfront, Sreeja was careful and hit straight up, while me to extreme right- farthest away from the hole. Father and daughter burst into fits of giggles. I usually love to see them giggle, but I was disgusted that day.

After a quick shower, we drove down to Red Shoe pub at Mabou. A trance band was playing their greatest hits. The pub is owned and run by the revolutionary music band - “The Rankin Family”. The food was delicious and sitting down was utopia as we were so tired. We could hardly walk another step. Sreeja finished her seafood Penne with Mussels and Scallops in no time. A fun filled and joyous restaurant with live music! I liked the décor from the moment I walked through the main door. The Rankin Family does successfully bring a cozy creative touch to a Back Road Paradise. As the sun set on the island, we were happy and tired, listening to “Whisky as the sun goes down”