I drive up the coast and around a bit: Day seven

What a day! There were parts when I was certain it would all end in tears, but no. I am in Halifax, which Google maps assured me was five and a half hours away. Well, I was in the car from 9am to 5pm with barely a break. It's really difficult driving around on your own when you need to check you are on the right route or to know if this town or that town comng up has lodging and attractions. I nearly stopped a few times, but when it came to it, I ended up driving onto Halifax. Halifax is spread out and so much tension in the ritual Finding Of A Motel. Somehow I ended up on the wrong side of the river in Dartmouth, not Halifax, but fell on my feet, as the motel was right next to the ferry terminal, so I got the ferry across to eat and explore. It probably seems odd to other people and it even is a bit odd to me after 8 hours of driving, but in two or three hours I feel I've done what I wanted to here. The city, or at least the downtown is an mix of old and new, but the most striking thing to me was how much you just knew instantly it wasn't America - chiefly because of the presence of the sort of casual grime and litter which defines the nice bits of America by its absence. So in an odd way it felt very much like home, like Southampton, and it does make me ponder the cultural inheritances here. The other difference was the roads - the Canadian highways are magnificent compared to the US roads I've been on - Highway 1 in Maine is a rutted track, when it continues in Canada it is a 3 lane highway. Maybe thats because of the tolls - it cost me repeatedly. Anyway, here I am in Halifax, the city my Grandfather sailed convoys into in 1943, the end of the line - now I turn back, probably a bit more slowly than intended, as I didn't think I'd get here until tomorrow night.