It is said that you should travel before life’s responsibilities weigh you down. Perhaps right after high school or university when a sense of adventure thrills you or before you settle down with kids or even more likely when you retire. No one has said one should actively pursue travel with young children. No sane people. Flying in the face of this common sense my husband and I recently took a long road trip with our three young children – almost 4, 2.5 and 10 months. Yes, on purpose. And we were at the time of planning and still are, as far as I am aware, sane. I will not sit here in my post travel haze and exclaim about the ease and convenience of travel with young children. There were moments halfway between here and our destination that were absolutely ridiculous and I wondered if perhaps we could just stop and live in Drummondville or Cornwall or any other location that meant we could all get out of the van, permanently. The great foot smelling incident of 2016 best illustrates this. Many hours into day two, our two year old began to sob that he wanted his four year old sister to smell his feet. She staunchly refused and broke his heart. Nevertheless, not only did we make our destination and return home, but we enjoyed it. Despite its inherent challenges the trip was rewarding in its educational value for our children and, I suppose, ourselves.
Our destination of choice was Cape Breton, about 22 hours east of our home in Ontario. Every year we travel home. To be clear I live in Ontario but my home is and will always be Cape Breton. And not in a Mike Duffy kind of way, but in my heart sings when my feet touch Cape Breton soil. As such I travel home every summer to visit with my parents and soak in as much of home as I can. This means time with my parents and other relatives, scenery, fresh air, and an occasional baked good or two. Okay a few more but we are among friends, so who is counting. As the years have gone by, travel has posed a few more challenges. It is no longer my sister and I jumping in the car on a whim with our dogs and snack foods or the biggest planning decision being what to take in my carryon for the plane. Now we need to get home with three young children in tow. The planning. The effort. The worry. The decisions. Can it be done? Well, actually yes, and what a time.
Cape Breton has made the news quite a bit lately. Coined the Trump Bump, many tourists were introduced to CB as a travel destination as an escape from a possible Trump led United States. Shiver. I too see it as a different kind of escape but fleeing Donald bad hair and all, is also a good reason to go. Cape Breton known for its scenery, seafood and friendly folk captures the hearts of many. Until recently I hadn’t considered how scenery might appeal to the very young. In Ontario, I live in the suburbs. I have adjusted well to living in close quarters to my neighbours in a cookie cutter house. I am down to only an occasional whimper. Once I did turn into the wrong driveway, but who hasn’t? In my acclimation to this kind of lifestyle I forgot that my children are used to this. They have a small plot of land in which they can play ball, traffic to be careful of, and sometimes people who might say hello as we walk by. The suburbs are convenient, neat, and absolutely fine. Cape Breton is, in fact, the antithesis of this. An almost 24 hour drive away is not convenient. It’s characteristically rugged coastlines and similar people carved from the sea and winds are never neat. And as for fine, well it’s dramatic, and poignant, and all-consuming in its unique qualities, but it is never just fine.
In all, we spent about six weeks in Cape Breton. While it’s true I was in no hurry to leap back into our van and head west, we stayed because we were having a wonderful time. Every day held something new. And as we travelled around the island meeting new people and seeing new sights, the children were sponges. They soaked up everything the island had to offer. The accents. The hiking. The food. The kindness of strangers. The space! My goodness, the space! No lines. No crowds. Space. Good space too. Beach space. Early in the trip we visited a few beaches. The children frolicked and threw rocks and our 10 month old sampled sand and small stones from each as if they were fine wines. We started to challenge ourselves in our vacation mode with a self-serving goal. How many beaches could we visit on this trip? We set our goal at eight. In total we visited 12 beaches. All lovely and all different. From Port Morien, a 20 minute drive away with a child friendly sandbar a mile long to beautiful beaches in Iona, an hour and a half away. We saw lighthouses, cranes, sailboats, fishing boats, kayaks, freighters, cruise ships, scenery that can cause a two year old boy who mostly lives for cars and tormenting his sister to comment on its loveliness. Regardless of our destination, the same two year old asked where the beach was every time we stopped the car. His skyrocketing vocabulary was obvious as he talked about the ginormous lighthouse he had seen. My father as he is known to do, can see the poignancy of life clearly and remarked that we had what is considered real ‘moments’ many times. One such memorable moment was when we drove to the beach with a full breakfast prepared by my mom and the kids dined as the sun gleamed off the water and our water-focused happy lab swam serenely in the background. It was nothing short of magnificent and it wasn’t yet 8:00 am. Who knew what else the day might hold. I would drive the 22 hours again for this one moment.
As we walked along a trail in Westmount called Peters Field, we heard the loud blare of a ship’s horn. Froze the children in their tracks. Of course, they wanted to know what it was so we looked across the water and there was a massive cruise ship docked. We went down to the water to get a better look and boy, did we ever. The cruise ship sailed out of port directly in front of us. We waved to the passengers on board. Our son looked pretty small standing on a rock watching the ship, but his eyes were as big as saucers. We can’t replicate this moment. The summer was filled with this kind thing.
I almost don’t dare to share this bit, but I’m hoping my father will forgive me. It’s not a secret that Cape Breton Island has a falling population. This does not speak well about the economy, but somewhat facetiously my father simply states that that means there is more for him. More space, more grandeur. As we sat on Grass Cove Beach in Iona, my mother looked down the beach with a disappointed look on her face and said that it was getting crowded. There were after all two other families down the beach. We could just about distinguish their silhouettes from each other. By Cape Breton beach standards, barely enough breathing space. We moved further down the beach.
The atmosphere of Cape Breton is a relaxed one. Cape Bretoners love their children. And apparently mine too. Nowhere have children been smiled at more or admired simply because of their happy youth. Walking along the lengthy boardwalk in downtown Sydney one sunny day with the three kids was one of the warmest environments that had nothing to do with the weather. People were genuinely happy to see children playing outside and being children. I always know when we are home because the kids get their hair tousled by kind strangers who pronounce them “some cute” and gorgeous. I have to agree. We got this welcome everywhere we went.
Traveling this distance by car means it is not restful. Unless simultaneous napping is happening and you are driving like the wind to cover ground, someone needs something. A book, a toy, a treat, a drink, someone to smell their feet. You get the idea. We went against the grain and decided to go sans DVD player. We travelled without one so many years ago so surely we can amuse ourselves. So we sang till our voices were hoarse, passed around new toys from a well-stocked tickle trunk of goodies, dug into an enormous food stash, told stories we had forgotten about. While the driver drove, the passenger in the front worked hard. We planned on seven hours of driving a day which meant we would need about 12 hours to reach our destination. We had long and numerous rest stops. While this road trip humdrum might wear on a road weary traveller, everything delighted the kids. Every Timmy’s stop was an adventure. Every new washroom with automatic doors was thrilling. Every park we found was Disneyland. Suddenly our little ones were asking about Fredericton or Drummondville as if they had been travellers for many long years. For children on a solid routine at home, they were happy to step out and try something new.
There was a real danger to our kids growing gills when we home. There wasn’t a fish and chips dish safe from their little hands. Sure the food was delicious, but the location didn’t hurt either. Our tastebuds appreciated the scenery. In Glace Bay we introduced the children to the idea that trucks can make fries. The Glace Bay Fry Truck for 70 years has been making amazing fries. Ordering fries from a truck was fascinating for our kids as was eating them while we looked at the fishing boats docked and inspected lobster traps on the wharf. The fish and chips served at the Mull Café and Deli in Mabou were also delightful and just got better as we picnicked with them at the gazebo in Mabou overlooking the water. Rather spontaneously we stopped at a restaurant in Louisdale on our way to Isle Madame and from their take out menu picked up yes, more fish and chips. We feasted next to the lighthouse at Lennox Passage and as if on cue a fishing boat and then a sailboat passed us as we gazed at the water and played on the shore. To round out our diets we became frequent visitors to the Tasty Treat in Sydney and just about any other establishment that served dessert. Our children now understand what makes a truly delicious banana split. Life skills. Picnicking never lost its appeal but became commonplace. We celebrated our oldest daughter’s fourth birthday at the Mira Wildlife Park. The kids patted a moose for goodness sakes. I will tell you honestly that it was misting and threatening a downpour throughout the party, but it couldn’t dampen the fun one bit. We walked through the trails spotting wildlife and then picnicked in the open field and then visited the petting zoo. We got completely drenched on this last part, but it merely added to the adventure.
Seeing Cape Breton through the eyes of my children has reminded me what makes Cape Breton, well Cape Breton. The land, sure. People, absolutely. Food, indeed. There is something intangible that won’t make a tourist brochure. It did, however, find its way to our children. I am convinced they were enriched by their trip home. That’s why it was hard to leave. That and the food.
I have limited advice to offer as a parent, but I do know this – many things worthwhile for raising thoughtful, enthusiastic and happy children often times isn’t easy. Car trips include tears, frequent pee stops, and hurt feelings. They also include lots of laughs, bonding and educational experiences like no other. Our trip to Cape Breton was amazing for the experiences it offered there and in the getting there. We will do it again, smelly feet and all.