Halifax – First Impressions

I’m sitting at Bearly’s House of Blues & Ribs, served by the friendliest waitresses known to man, feasting on my first ever bowl of seafood chowder (it’s chow-DUH not chow-DERE! And it’s also delicious) and a plate of fish’n'chips, sippin’ a Keith’s and looking out at the misty rain.

I’m in Halifax, and there ain’t no doubt about it.

I flew in on what must surely be close to the world’s smallest commercial aircraft – 24 seats, people, it had 24 seats! I didn’t get to see much of anything during the short 1.5hr flight – both Ottawa and Halifax were shrouded in cloud, obscuring the expected view from my handy window seat. When we broke through the clouds on our approach to Hali international, though, what I saw was a vibrant sea of varying shades of green amongst pools of dark water and the occasional clearing for homes and a golf course. Breathtaking.

A short wait in the airport was soon brought to a close by the gruff yet surprisingly welcoming ticket attendant indicating our shuttle was ready to head into town. I had a few microsleeps on the way and quickly found we were in the adorably quaint streets of Dartmouth. Within moments the bridge to Halifax came into view and all of a sudden Joel Plaskett’s “Nowhere With You” was in my head, starting from the lyric “I took the Dartmouth Ferry, into the town… ” That was it – a grin spread from ear to ear. I had arrived.

The shuttle meandered the streets a little, making stops at various hotels and giving me the chance to ogle the sights as we drove. Gorgeous old buildings and funky looking shops intermingled with some modern eyesores certainly create an interesting skyscape and a favourable first impression. You follow that up by managing to spy the Keith’s brewery from the bus window and you’re really starting to make me fall in love.

I got off the shuttle bus and stepped into a whirlwind of mist. Didn’t matter what I tried to do, I ended up wet, and only getting wetter. My umbrella was no match for the powers of the mysterious mist. You know those mist tents they have at Big Day Out? It was like being in one of those, only it’s 10 degree out, not 35, and you can’t just walk out the other end, now miraculously mist-less. No, mother nature puts on a mist tent for free, just don’t try and leave. Walking to the hostel with my now enitrely useless umbrella, I thoroughly regretted my decision to come to Halifax sans-raincoat. It was a debate that raged in my brain this morning, with the apparently idiotic side coming out on top.

I was also getting about in thongs (flip flops, you filthy-minded people) which, whilst theoretically a fabulous choice given sneakers would’ve gotten a mist-based soaking, cause me to waddle about like an overfed penguin once water gets between the sole of my foot and the thongs, and my feet start slipping about madly. Between the waddling and the impotent umbrella, I suppose it’s hardly surprising a truck driver slowed to allow me to cross when he didn’t have to, smiling kindly and no doubt regarding me with an eyeful of pity usually reserved for those who take the short bus to school.

The cursory glance I had given the map turned out to be all I needed, and I managed to locate the hostel, though not after questioning my recollection of the map and my instincts and pondering if it wasn’t perhaps prudent to actually write down or at the very least check the address of the place at which you are staying before wandering off blindly in the feeble hopes your sense of direction will kick in. Luckily my awesomeness poo-poohed that silly theory and I will of course continue to be entirely impractical and rash when it comes to such things.

When I got to the hostel I found the reception to be closed for a meal break and figured that was my cue to fill my stomach with food and beverages, as well. I started to venture, I really did, I got as far as one street down before giving up on the shite weather and turning back, and walking into this here fine establishment of Blues and Beer, essentially next door to the hostel. I’ve just polished off the delicious, delicious chow-DUH, and drained a couple of pints of the nectar of the gods. I’m headed to check in at the hostel before hopefully catching up with my mate Pete later today. From there… Well, it’ll be general mischief and mayhem as usual.