Very few people enjoy a short road trip more than me. Or better still, a medium-length or long road trip.
And for whatever reason, since I was a young lad, I have been a keen reader and observer of licence plates. My dad used to come up with mathematical and geographical games that made trips on the Canadian Prairies pass faster, as we would drive from Winnipeg to Regina or Edmonton or Port Arthur/Fort William.
Weird, I know, but many families have their quirks, and we loved visiting relatives.
Just last week here in Niagara-on-the-Lake, I spotted a bit of an outlier of a licence plate on Queen Street, near the cenotaph. From New Brunswick.
Subconsciously, that day, I had passed many of the usual Canadian plates. Indeed, Ontario is to be discovered, Quebec remembers, British Columbia is beautiful, Alberta has wild roses, and Manitoba is friendly. Yukon notes the Klondike, Nova Scotia is our ocean playground, and the slogans continue.
But it seems New/Nouveau Brunswick is our most patriotic province This officially bilingual province’s licence plate reads “New/Nouveau Brunswick Canada.” And, the individual plate number.
This piqued my interest, and I did a quick Google search on provincial licence plates. Only New Brunswick proudly includes the word “Canada.”
Due to its geography and a rather low population count, we don’t tend to think of New Brunswick too often. For many Canadians, it’s a necessary part of the road trip between Ontario and Quebec and the other three Atlantic provinces.
And it’s not a short pass through on the Trans-Canada Highway. A long drive, with lots and lots of trees to marvel at. Did they name Robinsonville after one of my relatives?
Just think back some 40 years to our magnificent Terry Fox and his Marathon of Hope, which started in Newfoundland and Labrador and went through New Brunswick. Running a marathon each day, through all types of weather. Sometimes, 10, 11 or 12 hours, moving with his unique gait and determined look. The Marathon of Hope has now raised about $900 million dollars for cancer research.
Be with us on Sunday, Sept. 20 this year, as NOTL continues to take part. You will feel the enthusiastic vibe in Simcoe Park, with the irrepressible Joan King at the helm again. Watch for more details as Sept. 20 approaches.
And although I have been fortunate to spend a lot of time in our Maritimes, I still find some names confusing. Even now, I hesitate before saying Saint John or St. John’s. Feel free to check up on me, but methinks it’s Saint John, N.B. and St. John’s, N.L. And be sure to pronounce Newfoundland properly.
There is the totally wonderful Cabot Trail, best driven in a clockwise direction, and also the Cabot Tower at the top of Signal Hill in St. John’s. It commemorates John Cabot’s discovery of Newfoundland. And the first transatlantic wireless communication is well explained on two plaques.
I do hope you organize a road trip, road trip to New Brunswick sometime soon. When in that neck of the woods, get off the Trans-Canada at Moncton and experience Magnetic Hill. A classically Canadian roadside attraction, only about 30 minutes out of the way, and very well-signed.
Our peripatetic family was there in 1960, or 1961, and the memory is vivid. Magnetic Hill is a natural phenomena, an optical illusion if you will. Called a gravity hill, it tricks us with nearby rising and descending terrain.
Point your car uphill, facing the gradual slope. Soon, your automobile will be moving in the “wrong direction,” seemingly uphill. If this sounds kind of weird and hokey, it is. But a not-to-be-missed Canadian experience.
It is called trashy on Wikipedia, but they are wrong. It’s great. And, only 10 bucks per vehicle, or 60 bucks for a tour bus. Such a deal.
My parents were determined to show us the Maritimes, after their three years based in Halifax during the Second World War. The folks there were so hospitable then — And still are.
On 9/11, Gander, N.L. led the league in welcoming surprise guests for a night or two or three, and I do hope you have enjoyed the hit show “Come From Away.”
My goodness, hasn’t this just been an unusual version of Ross’s Ramblings?
We can all agree that people down east are special and kind. Enjoy a lobster dinner and some chowdah.
