I recently visited New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Prince Edward Island and over 10 days drove through much of those Maritime provinces, passing through numerous hamlets and fishing villages.

Why? That’s a legitimate question to ask regarding any expenditure of time and effort in relation to alternatives. I’m based in Vancouver. A trip to the Maritimes is equal in cost to a visit to the great cities of Europe, an all-inclusive in Mexico, or even a trip to Thailand. That’s stiff competition.

But I suggest that a trip is vital for Canadians. It reminds you of the vastness of the country, especially when you are coming from BC. Not many countries span four time zones, and you are closer to Europe than Vancouver when you are in the Maritimes.

There are many interesting aspects of being in the Maritimes. There is a unique geography. The red soil of PEI is jarring—even the rocks are red! Cavendish Beach, frequented by Anne of Green Gables, has some of the few natural sand dunes in Canada. The famous Cabot Trail snakes its way through Cape Breton. There are Hopewell Rocks which are exposed with 45-foot tidal swings in the Bay of Fundy.

There are some significant historical sites. There is the Citadel in Halifax dating back to 1749, and the Point Prim, a PEI lighthouse constructed in 1845. Even smaller communities like Saint John, NB, have a deep history. Within the town is a United Empire Loyalist Cemetery dating back to 1783.

There is the Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21 where scores of bedraggled immigrants were welcomed to Canada. There is the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, highlighting its Titanic connection; this is where the rescued bodies came, eventually along with assorted artifacts.

The Alexander Graham Bell Centre is located in Baddeck, NS. He was Scottish by birth, American by choice, and Canadian by convenience. He received his telephone patent in 1876 and spent decades of his life in Baddeck. Bell cashed out and then spent his later years dabbling in everything from air conditioning systems to planes. Unfortunately, he also spent 18 years in various courts defending his telephone patents.

There are some peculiarities. There are lots of “Wrong Way” signs on roads—clearly indicating that it’s not always easy to stay on the right side of the highway in varied weather conditions. I saw many signs for moose but didn’t see any of them near the roads. I did see deer, including in the middle of Halifax. 

There is some very nice infrastructure—evidence that politicians have been groveling for votes for a very long time. Many of the Maritimes’ highways are very good and very empty—you wonder, where are the cars? The 13-kilometer Confederation Bridge, linking PEI to Nova Scotia, is a must-do. As you’re driving across you think, "This isn’t a bridge, it’s a highway on stilts." All hail the pork barrels.

Odd for Canada, there are many, highly visible churches embedded in hamlets and villages. They are generally built on an elevated patch or hill in the community, with a high steeple and in a white clapboard style. The churches are usually Anglican, United, Catholic, or Baptist, and they generally have cemeteries (for the old-school cradle-to-grave services). 

There are lots of cemeteries other than the ones at churches—almost appearing out of nowhere in grass fields on the roadside. This seems to suit the older demographic of the area. It reminds me of the Simon and Garfunkel line about “nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town.”

There are many seafood “shacks”—stalls on the road site, featuring everything from lobster poutine to calamari. The joke is that the lobster should be cheap as it appears to be so plentiful—but, au contraire, that’s how they fuel their economy. 

In one case I went to a “haddock shack.” I wondered why it was not cod. It turns out the cod had been overfished for so long that they are down to less than 1% of the historical norms. Therefore the cod fisheries collapsed in the early 1990s. In BC, “fish & chips” is usually cod or halibut. In the Maritimes, it’s “what the haddock?!” So, a run of 500 years ended.

Houses in the area often have a clapboard exterior and are painted bright colours (baby blue, fire engine red, mustard yellow), often with ornaments pasted to the exterior (like a starfish). Houses occasionally have the name of the owners on a decorative sign beside the mailbox—seemingly an invitation to chat. Most have massive front yards with acres of grass (nary a weed in sight)—people spend their time cutting their lawns.

People have time to talk. The Maritimes emit a bygone sense of community. It’s the best place in Canada to break down on the side of the road or run out of gas—you wouldn’t have to look far for help. 

There are many Canadian flags hung from porches, pre-being co-opted by the Freedom Convoy. There are many provincial flags—they are proud New Brunswickians. Outside of Quebec, that doesn’t fly. I don’t know of anyone flying the BC flag from their front door proud to be a British Columbian!

The climate is not good: it’s not hot enough in the summer and it’s too cold in the winter. It’s a short tourist season, from mid-May to mid-September (many “OPEN” flags fly at establishments—yes, indeed, we are open!). There is the ever-present specter of hurricanes such as Juan and, more recently, Fiona. The evidence of swaths of decimated forests remains for a long time as a testament to harsh conditions.

Personally tragic, there is not a coffee culture. A sad marker is that when you ask the person in the street for directions to a Starbucks-like café, they refer you to Tim Hortons. Ouch! There are, however, some pockets of caffeine expertise (such as Receiver Coffee).

So, why go to the Maritimes? Most importantly it’s the people, the culture, and the vibe—they are part of the same country, but very distinct. Having been to the other parts of the country, this was like the “missing piece” of the puzzle—to experience Canada from West to East provides a more comprehensive picture of Canada. The Maritimes is not to “see,” but to “be.” The feeling will outlast the photos buried in the digital vault.