For 9 days each October all the island hops with ceilidhs, stay music, spoken phrase and dance performances
Opinions and suggestions are unbiased and merchandise are independently chosen. Postmedia could earn an affiliate fee from purchases made by hyperlinks on this web page.
The Canso Causeway connects mainland Nova Scotia to the island of Cape Breton. As we motor-homed throughout the span on a crisp autumn day, the ebb tide was pulling westward, exhausting by the Canso Strait. We stopped at Port Hastings customer’s centre the place a pleasing lady bid us welcome and instructed us we have been in luck, “You’re simply in time for the Celtic Colors.”
Being an observant fellow, I had already famous the altering season — the good oranges and reds of the Maritimes’ fall foliage. And I instructed her so. “Oh, no,” she laughed, “Celtic Colors isn’t concerning the leaves. It’s our annual autumn pageant.” For 9 days each October all the island hops with a refrain of Cape Breton traditions: ceilidhs, stay music, spoken phrase and dance performances, all celebrating the island’s wealthy historical past and tradition. However earlier than we sat and listened, it was exploration time.
Cape Breton is a marvel of twisting vistas, superb hikes, nice meals — and pleasant individuals. En path to the world-renowned Cabot Path in Cape Breton Highlands Nationwide Park we took a circuitous route, skirting Bras D’Or Lake (probably not a lake, extra a brackish inland sea). Alongside the lakeshore close to Massive Pond we stopped and paid homage to Rita McNeil on the late singer’s eponymous Tea Room.
After we lastly arrived at Ingonish Seashore Campground on the Nationwide Park’s southeast border, it was late. We ate and hit the hay. There was a giant hike deliberate for the morning: Franey Path, a protracted steep climb to a panoramic viewpoint alongside the coast. By mid-morning we had conquered the summit. We eliminated packs, sat, ate and admired the beautiful view of the Clyburn River canyon spilling into the Atlantic Ocean.
That night we dined luxuriously on the historic Keltic Lodge and later, over a digestif within the leathery lounge, struck up dialog with a younger native couple who have been proud to inform us the historical past of the area, their Scottish heritage and the exhausting lives their ancestors had endured on land — and at sea.
After we awoke the air was cool, crisp and clear, an ideal day for an autumn drive on the Cabot Path, which loops for 298 km across the northern tip of Cape Breton. We cruised counterclockwise from Ingonish. Our first cease was White Level the place the tough Atlantic batters stony cliffs alongside the island’s unprotected north shore. Then we started a twisting ascent by lush Acadian forest to Cape Breton’s central highlands.
The show of foliage was magical. Maple, beech and birch all boasted their brightest fall colors: hues of purple, orange and yellow. And, as if frozen within the windless air, the timber had but to drop a single leaf. It was a palette of autumn perfection. I pulled our motorhome right into a serene overlook. My spouse and I sat in silence, gazing by the windshield on the crimson and gold majesty. Out of the blue, and earlier than I may exit the automobile to snap an image, three vanloads of vacationers pulled in, sprung from their seats and started frantically taking photographs. Abandoning the hope of any verdant solitude, I as an alternative jumped into the cacophonous human fray and began taking pictures of vacationers taking footage. Fairly a pleasant expertise really.
We arrange camp that night at quiet MacIntosh Brook close to Lone Shieling, the place 350 year-old sugar maple timber stand sentinel over a long-abandoned Scottish crofter’s hut. Regardless of the quiet, I didn’t sleep properly that night time, for there was a menacing large lurking in my future: Cabot Cliffs golf hyperlinks. You could have heard about golf in Eire — and the way these programs may be probably the most fantastically humiliating tracks one would possibly ever encounter. Nicely, Cape Breton Island has retained its Celtic custom not solely in music and dance but in addition in its fondness for brutal however alluring hyperlinks golf. The seven balls I plunged into the brine are testomony to this reality.
After the golf interlude, we re-dedicated ourselves to exploration by foot with a final hike, on the Skyline Path on Cape Breton’s west coast. Though crowded, the traipse was satisfying and the ocean views breathtaking. On a transparent day (which we loved) one can see the white cliffs of Quebec’s Magdalen Islands shining distantly within the Gulf of St Lawrence.
With drained toes — and in want of being fed and watered — we arrived late at Cheticamp Campground. I observed an indication saying that the Harbour Restaurant within the quaint Acadian village of Cheticamp supplied a free shuttle for patrons. I phoned, booked a reservation and requested a trip.
Fifteen minutes later a automotive pulled as much as our campsite and a pleasing girl with a French-Canadian accent stated, “Hop in.” It was Lorraine LeBlanc, the restaurant proprietor. And after an incredible chow down on Morue en Cabane (slow-cooked cod, chives and pork scraps) and Lorraine’s well-known Apple Backyard cake, she dropped us again off at our campsite. Cape Breton hospitality at its best.
Our time within the Highlands was coming to an finish and nonetheless there was the Celtic Colors to take pleasure in. The pageant venues are island-wide however many artists bunk every night time on the Gaelic School in St Ann’s close to Baddeck (Alexander Graham Bell’s summer season stomping grounds). Broadly scattered venues lead to a protracted, darkish drive on slim roads again to St Ann’s after a day of performing. However for the musicians the social gathering carries on — with impromptu jam periods lasting properly into the wee hours.
We arrived in St Ann’s on the final night time of the pageant. We boon-docked within the Gaelic School parking zone. The Celtic Colors finale was scheduled to start very late, previous our bedtime so, after a parking zone BBQ, we lay down for a disco nap, awaking close to midnight to the sound of devices being tuned.
It was a raucous night, hosted by the bubbling humour of singer-songwriter Buddy MacDonald. It was previous 4 am when the final fiddle was packed unwillingly into its case. We trundled off to mattress… and that morning loved a well-deserved Celtic sleep in.