13.10.18 Around the southern Nova Scotia to Lunenburg

At 7:30 am I wake up to a wonderful sunrise. It's dry and 5°C! Hooray. Not sunny, but it's not raining. After breakfast from the refrigerator, we spend a cold half hour on the pier with the lobster fishermen. They are allowed to go out at 2 am tonight. There are only 99 licenses in Digby and so far there are about 60 ships here. We ask one of the fishermen, who are all really nice, although they do hard work in the cold air. He says that about 4000-5000 lbs (1,800-2,200 kg) of lobster are caught per boat and about 100,000 lbs (45,000 kg) can be caught during the fishing season until 1/1/19. Note that this includes the shells. However, the number is hard to imagine, especially since there are also 99 licenses being granted. Now, not everyone will fish the maximum amount, as the boats are extremely different in size, but it is still surprising that so many lobsters live only in the Bay of Fundy - and not in the open sea. District 34, off the southern tip of Nova Scotia, is the largest and there are 1,200 licenses issued there. The lobster boats are wide and short, so that as many lobster traps as possible can be accommodated on the loading area, which are stably connected with iron pieces. Fish is skewered as bait in the boxes. Tonight, the boxes will be set out and raised again about 24 hours later. This means that in 2 days there will probably be complete chaos in unloading the cargo, as the lobsters have to be stored in coolers/trucks. Meanwhile, more and more only the meat is shipped - it should be significantly cheaper than the complete lobsters. China is the largest buyer of lobsters. We wondered so far why the restaurants here close when the lobster season is starting. But that has no relevance here.

We leave Digby on Hwy 1, which runs parallel to 101. The 1 is like a country road and runs partially right next to the water, through wind-tousled villages, along small bays and isolated houses and surprisingly large churches. For a long time, we have a view of Digby Neck and Long Island to the right - these peninsulas that we only noticed in the fog yesterday. Eventually, this disappears too and the only thing next to us is the Atlantic. This is the Lighthouse Route and we visit a few of them, soon reaching the area of the Acadians with their French gibberish, the French flags with yellow stars, and gigantic churches from the time of the French.

Cape St. Mary has a lighthouse on top of a dramatic cliff coast. At Yarmouth, we drive to the tip of Cape Forchu to the large lighthouse standing high above the sea, but we decide not to take a closer look. The lighthouse is ugly anyway. The landscape here is barren and wind-tousled, flat, and there are only ground-covering shrubs, hardly any trees, and many flat rocks. Back in Yarmouth, we opt for the 'fast' road, Hwy 101, and after another exhausting almost 3 hours, we finally arrive in Lunenburg in the late afternoon. The 101 is so dull at times that, out of desperation, we listen to the Acadian radio program and speculate about what is being said there to have some variety.

The Whellhouse Motel is located outside the old town of Lunenburg and here we treat ourselves to two single rooms. They are spacious, dark, have a refrigerator, hairdryer, and coffee machine, and there are tufts of hair on the carpet and sticking to the sink in my room. Of all places, the last 3 nights - well. The bed is wide and comfortable and at $95 per night, it is relatively cheap. It is now drizzling again, so we drive the about 1000m to the town by car. From 5 pm and on weekends, you can park for free on the roadside, which is better in October than in July 2013 when I was here last during the high season.

We have to wait about 40 minutes for a table at the Salt Shaker Deli, but my haddock with asparagus and red potatoes is very tasty and reasonably priced at $18.50.

At around 8 pm we're back at the motel and the punk is up in our two rooms. A group of four people has the rooms with an adjoining door and they are making music and singing. We had already seen the people with two huge 12-packs of beer cans going into the rooms when we checked in, and we wondered why they would assign the rooms like this in an almost empty hotel, knowing how soundproof it is. Despite knocking on the ceiling with a clothes hanger, it doesn't get quieter. One by one, we complain at the reception and the lady moves two of the four people to another room at the end of the wing around 9 pm. However, the internet remains a disaster here and I practically have to stand at the door (even better outside) to have a somewhat stable network.