I didn’t realize how poorly I’d slept last night until the middle of this afternoon when, in the middle of a McDonalds somewhere in Digby, I began to feel weak, dizzy, and as if I was still on the Scotia Prince with the sea rocking the vessel back and forth.
Stef and I spent most of the night huddled close to each other on the tiny single bed but I eventually left her alone and climbed up onto the fold-down top “bunk.” That was somehow even worse, perhaps because I feared falling off the edge.
We did make it to Nova Scotia in one piece though, and after a quick interrogation at customs and a short visit to the nearby information center to change our currency, we began our drive up the coast towards the homelands of my ancestors in Digby County.
We stopped at the largest wooden church in North America and a soft-spoken Acadian girl told us a bit about the history of the place. After that we made quick stops at several graveyards, taking pictures of nearly every Thibault, Thibeau, or Tebo grave we saw. I suppose that not many of those tombstones mark the resting places of people I’m actually related to, but we didn’t really prepare to do any serious research before this trip (no list of names, just the laptop and Family Tree Maker to guide us), so I’m not going to be too upset about it.
I do hope to find at least one or two graves before we depart on Saturday, but we’ve got time.
Indeed, that is exactly how we are looking at this vacation. We are taking it slow and being boring and just enjoying our time together. Outside of our trip up here to Sandy Cove, to this quaint little bed & breakfast we’re staying at, we’ve not done much today. We had ourselves a little nap this afternoon and a quick shower (we hadn’t showered on the boat) and then we went to dinner at a Belgian/French place a little ways away. Now we’re tucked into our room for the night and for once, I’m glad I don’t have much else to report.