Planning ahead before traveling is imperative. That’s why my daughter and I packed our bags the night before leaving on our four-day, three-night sojourn to New Brunswick.
Walking through the world’s longest covered bridge, touring downtown Fredericton, coasting down (or perhaps up) Moncton’s Magnetic Hill, visiting Saint John City Market, exploring Hopewell Rocks Provincial Park, and, if the tides cooperated, driving across the ocean floor to Ministers Island in Passamaquoddy Bay were all on our activity-filled docket.
Knowing I’d safely stowed my toothbrush, shaver, and four days’ worth of clean underwear, socks, and shirts in the car ahead of time gave me a secure feeling. I’d also tucked Canadian postage stamps, a chart listing New Brunswick’s July high and low tides, and the addresses of the three hotels where we’d be staying (along with the confirmation number for each reservation) into the book I’d brought along for bedtime reading. There’s great satisfaction in starting a trip knowing everything’s been planned, and that nothing can go wrong.
About ten minutes after leaving Wednesday morning I realized I hadn’t brought my phone. “Want to go back and get it?” asked my favorite female child. Not wanting to backtrack, I replied, “Why bother? You’ve got yours, right?”
Four hours later, after crossing the border at Houlton, we parked on Hartland’s Main Street, strolled over the St. John River to Somerville via the aforementioned 1282-foot covered bridge, and then returned to have lunch. The seafood chowder was excellent, but my credit card getting declined (in both Canadian and American funds) was a bit of a downer.
Oops. Apparently I’d neglected to alert the bank about my impending whereabouts, so when a charge showed up from Hartland, New Brunswick, their fraud alert went off. “No problem,” I thought. “I’ll just call them on my, ummmm……daughter’s phone to straighten things out.”
That problem solved, we paused just outside Moncton to grab the paper with our hotel information printed on it. Oops! Apparently I had forgotten that, too. Thankfully the restaurant where we’d stopped had free Wi-Fi. That allowed us to retrieve the information from my computer, which against all odds I had remembered to pack.
The following morning began at Magnetic Hill, where for a mere ten Canadian dollars you can put your car into neutral and subsequently experience it seemingly roll uphill. I’d been there many years ago and been underwhelmed, but my child wanted to see it, and this time it worked. Amazing!
Next up: a 60-mile drive to Amherst, Nova Scotia, so my daughter can now accurately say she’s been to seven different Canadian provinces. From there it was back to New Brunswick and Hopewell Rocks Provincial Park, where, at low tide, we walked beneath the towering sea stacks, marveling at what nature has accomplished through multiple millennia of tidal erosion. I’d expected to be awed, but somehow those ancient rock structures were even more impressive than I’d anticipated they’d be.
The next morning we drove to Saint John to check out Canada’s oldest continuously-operating farmer’s market. From there it was on to St. Andrews, where, at low tide, we drove to Ministers Island, site of the palatial summer estate of Sir William Van Horne, the American-born architect of the Canadian Pacific Railroad.
I experienced three significant epiphanies on our trip. The first: four days aren’t nearly enough to fully enjoy all New Brunswick has to offer.
The second: it’s possible, though occasionally a trifle inconvenient, to have a terrific smartphoneless vacation.
But by far the most important takeaway: at any age, spending quality time with one’s offspring is quite literally priceless.
Andy YoungReturn to main page
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