The Cabot Trail

The alarm clock rang at seven o'clock, as our landlady Michelle had invited us for breakfast from eight o'clock onwards.

All the guests of the guesthouse sat at a large table, so that a lively conversation quickly got underway. Kevin from Minnesota sat opposite me, a funny, likeable man in his mid-sixties, who talked about his experiences traveling in Germany. In the course of the conversation, it turned out that he is a retired police officer who served in Des Moines, Iowa until 2001. And as it goes when police officers sit together, they quickly start talking about work, and time flies.

We were actually supposed to leave the premises at 09:00, but it took us until ten o'clock.

The destination today was the road.

Sounds strange, but that's the way it is!

Today, we drove the Cabot Trail on Cape Breton Island. It is supposed to be the most beautiful coastal road in North America and one of the most beautiful in the world. I don't know if there are competitions in this regard or how someone measures the beauty of roads, but that's what all the travel guides say.

And while I sit here in the evening on the meadow next to our hotel, looking at the Atlantic Ocean and reflecting on the day, I have to say that all the travel guides have underestimated it.

In the past years, I have seen many beautiful landscapes, but this surpasses everything.

The road runs right along the Gulf of St. Lawrence, up steep cliffs, through beautiful valleys and lakes in the mountains, and finally ends at the Atlantic Ocean.

We were lucky with the weather, it was initially cloudy but cleared up more and more as we approached our destination, the village of Liscomb Ferry.

We took almost four hours for 100 km because we kept stopping (I know, stopping while running is not possible, it's more of a metaphor). Unfortunately, we also had ten construction sites that cost us time.

By 6:30 p.m., our hotel finally came into sight.

Finally, about 100 meters from our hotel, Nicole shouted: a moose!

We quickly pulled over to the right, took out the camera, and jumped out of the car. And what was standing there in the bushes: Indeed, a moose!

In complete tranquility, it ate tree tops (of course from small trees, it was a moose and not a giraffe) and looked at us.

Then it trotted away.

And so did we.

We checked in quickly, and then the question arose of where and what to eat.

The hotel restaurant was closed, so we went to the village of Liscomb Beach, where the culinary hotspot of this region is located. There were two "restaurants" to choose from, and we chose the wrong one. It wasn't a restaurant, more like a fast-food place located in the local corner store. The positive thing first: the fries were okay. Nicole's Thai chicken and Aaron's chicken nuggets were also well fried. My chicken wings apparently came from Ukrainian Lilliputian chickens and had never come into contact with spices. But they had been bathed in the deep fryer. I'm afraid I'll have heartburn for the rest of the evening.

Now we're sitting here, letting the day come to an end and enjoying the sunset.

Wonderful...