I鈥檒l be upfront and confess that I did not give my column my full attention this week. Usually I鈥檒l devote some time on the weekend to brainstorm a topic and lay out a few bullet points so I can get to work on it right away on Monday.
But I threw that routine out the window and watched it plummet to the pavement this week. I鈥檓 furiously typing this half-baked column on my laptop at 11:08 p.m. (Atlantic time), mere hours before it鈥檚 due. I am under the wire.
Can you blame me, though? I鈥檝e been busy soaking in the salt air, rampant humidity, and heavily-forested vistas of Nova Scotia for the past week. I鈥檝e had a full plate of meeting friends, swimming, and general loafing. When I鈥檓 on vacation, the column slides to the very bottom of my to-do list.
So, again, I apologize if this column seems rambly, disjointed, or thematically-light. I鈥檝e been too busy being not busy at all. Instead of reflecting on my last year in Saskatchewan or the differences between the Prairies and the Maritimes, I鈥檓 just going to talk about a failed trip to Peggy鈥檚 Cove. Simple as that.
Peggy鈥檚 Cove, of course, is a Nova Scotian landmark. It鈥檚 the number-one tourist trap you have to visit in the Maritimes. I鈥檝e made it my mission to go once every summer for the last four years.
Last Thursday, my friend and I decided to make the trek to the coastal lighthouse. He had to go to work at 6 p.m., so we left around 1 p.m. We figured that would give us plenty of time to drive to Peggy鈥檚 Cove, snap some photos, grab lunch, and head home.
We hit the road, snaking our way through Dartmouth, Halifax, and beyond. I marveled at the countless turns and bends in the highway. After a year of straight Saskatchewan roads, riding the Nova Scotia highway was like strapping onto a rollercoaster.
We spotted the sign that said 鈥淧eggy鈥檚 Cove,鈥� so we followed it and drove down the highway. And drove. And drove. We kept going forward, certain that the lighthouse would be around the next corner.
Finally, I checked the map app in my phone. Our car was far down the Nova Scotia coastline. Peggy鈥檚 Cove was 40 minutes behind us. We鈥檇 overshot our goal, to say the least.
We were faced with a conundrum. We鈥檇 been on the road for two hours. My friend had to get ready for his job by 5 p.m. We simply didn鈥檛 have the time to go to Peggy鈥檚 Cove. We abandoned the trip, defeated by our own highway idiocy.
It wasn鈥檛 a complete wash, though. We stumbled across a retro 50s diner on our way back. It had a decent selection of fries and sandwiches. It didn鈥檛 completely make up for the bungled trip and a total of four hours spent in the car, but it was an alright consolation prize.
Perhaps there鈥檚 a lesson in there about the journey being more important than the destination. Yeah, sure, go with that.
Now, if you鈥檒l excuse me, I鈥檓 going to get back to my vacation workload, which consists of nothing, nada, and napping.
