It is my Dad's birthday this week so I thought for a special treat I would allow him to hang out with me and pay for everything. He didn't know this of course until it was time to pay for something and I had to employ the 'Joel Pott Manoeuvre of Forgotten Wallets', an effective move I learned from my brother-in-law and one far less embarrassing and time consuming than the 'National Union of Students Technique' where you swipe one maxed-out credit card after another until the other person offers to pay, partly out of pity, but mostly from a shared sense of humiliation.
My Dad flew from London to Halifax, jumped on the coach to Antigonish and arrived in the centre of St. Francis Xavier university, basking in the unusually warm autumnal sunlight. We went home, ate dinner and relaxed. Dad looked exhausted after his long journey, and as we had all week to catch up and explore Nova Scotia I did what any loving son would do, and took him out to a cold beach until 1 o' clock in the morning to take pictures of the stars. He took this quite well actually, even though we missed both turnings to the beach, narrowly avoided killing a racoon and almost careered off the road when I tried to take a sharp bend at twice the speed limit (accidentally of course). This was my second
unsuccessful attempt at taking pictures of the night sky and even though it is painstaking and a little tedious I am determined not to give up. Hopefully it will be third time lucky. Perhaps the Good Doctor, my uncle Steve 'podcast' Fossey (click here for a thoroughly informative and enjoyable insight into the world of astronomy - http://www.brightclub.org/) will accompany me on a night time excursion and show me how it is done.
Dad and I tried to see as much of Antigonish and the surrounding area as we could, using my tried and tested method of driving around and stopping to take photos whenever we saw something worth stopping for. I had imagined we would do a bit of hiking and exploring on foot as we used to when I was younger, but it soon became evident that hiking had been Mum's influence and that Dad had never been a fan. Perhaps it is merely old age catching up on him as I did become a little worried when, on our first excursion he slipped on a small rock we were climbing over and took at least three minutes to recover. Maybe I am being a little harsh as his shoes were probably not designed for such activities, I mean a slim toed ankle boot with a cuban heel has hardly been the preferred footwear of climbers over the years. Lack of walking and the relentless rain did not however stop our intrepid fashionistas, who preferring the comfort of their vehicle decided to veer from the tarmac on many an occasion and explore the landscape off-road. Sometimes this led us to some remote lake or bird inhabited marsh land, other times it led to my Dad screaming like a girl and begging me to turn back for fear we would be stuck in the wilderness. Either way I enjoyed myself thoroughly and if my Dad is honest with himself (and he does always try to be honest) he enjoyed the thrill too.
I made sure Dad was able to sample the local food, starting with an eggs benedict on atlantic lobster on day one and finishing with the legendary McLobster on the final day. Dad loves to immerse himself in the culture and so after visiting Walmart and trying A&W poutine (chips, gravy and cheese curd to you English readers) I thought I would treat him to the Canadian Holy Grail: Tim Hortons. Tim's or Timmy's, as it is known nationwide, is a coffee shop. Yes, this is all. Do not be tricked or fooled by Canadians who claim that it is in some way more than this, that perhaps it is a place that brews a heavenly beverage previously unknown to human kind, or that it is perhaps the answer to World debt or the catalyst for peace in our time. It is none of these things. In fact it is a place that brews a mediocre coffee at best and that proudly exclaims on the signs outside that it is "always fresh". Surely this is the bare minimum for coffee purchased at a coffee shop, it is not really much of a claim is it? It may be true, but it doesn't really give the customer any information about the taste of the coffee. A more useful and, dare I say it, accurate sign would read, "always weak" or "always disappointing" or even "always leaving you with the taste of tobacco and old boots". I am aware that by saying these things I may be putting my Canadian Residency Application in severe jeopardy or perhaps risking a backlash from my in-laws, who may as a punishment force feed me Tim Bits (small, dry, round doughnuts) without a glass of water to wash them down with, or worse even, with a large double-double from Timmy's. Needless to say, Dad was not impressed and came to the same conclusion Whitney and myself came to years ago, that McDonald's coffee is in another league altogether.
We clocked up the miles over the week and visited so many different places that I couldn't remember where we had been until I looked back over the photographs. It had been a busy, but fantastic week with Dad and I miss him already. I think he enjoyed it too, and perhaps developed as much of a love for photography as I have. He seems to have an eye for it and not an inconsiderable amount of skill either. I look forward to adventures with him in the future.
