When we left The Normaway Inn it was cold, windy and raining. We were heading a few km down the road to a cafe called The Dancing Goat. It seemed like half the residents of the Margaree Valley had the same idea. We purchased coffees and a muffin and were on our way to Cape North and Meat Cove, the northern most point of Cape Breton. Winds were gale force, that combined with less than smooth roads and rain on the windshield did not make for great photos. Nonetheless the scenery was spectacular and I took many photos anyway......many deleted later.
Many of the places have interesting....and Scottish names, the Scots being the ones who populated the island and stayed, keeping their strong culture and traditions. Aspy Bay, Ingonish, Wreck Cove, St. Ann’s to name a few. Then there are the unusual names on shops.....The Dancing Moose, The Clucking Hen Bakery and Cafe.
At about 4pm we arrived in Sydney and checked into a The Colby House B&B ......our second question (first was, what time is breakfast) was, is there any music today?
There is music every day in Cape Breton! We didn’t even unpack but headed straight to the Governors House, where fiddler Colin Grant was playing. He is considered a god among fiddlers. The place was packed and we were prepared to stand, but in no time at all a couple of girls were waving us over to share their table. At the table also was a fellow called Bill .....a guy they met by sharing his table. Soon we were all new friends.
Jeff struck up a conversation with Dennis at yet another table, they got to chatting and next thing I knew Dennis tapped me on the shoulder, stuck out his hand and said Bon Camino! Yes he had done it or part of it in 2014. All the while the fiddle player was going like crazy, people were stomping feet, clapping hands, us included. and a couple of young girls were up on the small dance area stepping! Awesome to watch, soon there were more, both guys and girls, young and not so young, all stepping and stomping. Next there were 8 on the floor doing a reel! It was exactly what my parents, The Watsons, The Sinclairs, The Blaikies, The Barrs used to do back in the Kitimat days. It was quite emotional watching and remembering. You don’t have to go all the way to Scotland to find a bit of Scotland ....it’s alive and well in Cape Breton.
I confessed to the girls Laurie and Joanne that I had bought a fiddle and hadn’t started lessons yet. They excitedly (it was the beer) told me I must return next year and attend the Gaelic college in St Ann. One can take workshops in fiddling, speaking Gaelic, stepping, highland dance. In fact the college has students who come all the way from Scotland attending to learn Gaelic, it’s one of few places in the world to teach it. They promise to come to my end of class recital! We sure had a lot of fun.
I forgot to mention the fiddler Brenda who we heard fiddling at the barn last night was self taught, she had never had a lesson, taught herself to play by ear, also wrote her own music, produced the music into books that are used today in the Orkneys and the Heberdies in Scotland.
Cape Breton is full of wonderful down to earth folk , at least all the ones we have met are that way.
It’s definitely a place we would recommend worth a visit or two......and we would love to come b@ck someday. The Celtic Colours are held for a week starting on Canadian Thanksgiving.....and that is all about the fiddling and the dancing..
It’s just like hame ❤️
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