Day 15 of our three-week road trip through the Maine and the Maritimes would take us from Keltic Lodge at the Highlands in Ingonish, Cape Breton, to camping at Meat Cove Campground, way at the tip of Cape Breton Island. Man oh man, it was a day of fantastic views.

We’ve only just begun our exploration of Cape Breton Island, and I’m so looking forward to what awaits us these next few days. While the rest of the Nova Scotia is incredibly beautiful, there’s something about the wild, untamed, rugged landscape of Cape Breton that—already—is drawing me in. It’s like California’s Big Sur, the Green Mountains of Vermont (if Vermont were on an ocean), and the cliffs of Acadia National Park all rolled into one. It’s what I imagine Scotland and Ireland to look like. Cape Breton, you are stunning. Absolutely stunning. And this is the just the beginning…

Our destination for the night was Battery Provincial Park, located in St. Peter’s, not too far from the Canso Causeway that links Cape Breton Island with the rest of Nova Scotia. I’m always nervous about booking campground sites, as I never know if the location is good, if the bathroom is closer (or further away!) than it looks on a map, and what “privacy” and “shade” actually mean. The park has 53 campsites (we had site #8), and let me say this: it’s GORGEOUS. We had site 8, and an awesome view of St. Peter’s Bay.

Our second day in Halifax began with another trip to the Halifax Seaport Farmer’s Market; we had gone yesterday morning but advised that Saturday would be THE day to visit. And when we did, we had to get the cinnamon buns. Of course, I’ll take that kind of advice. And the cinnamon buns from Aly Mae’s were, in fact, deliciously amazing. I chatted for a bit with the woman working, and she confirmed what the market staffer told me the day before: the cinnamon buns are a hit, and they tend to sell out fast! How fast? She brings seven tubs of rolls for the market, each holding about 16 buns (total: 112 buns+/-), each looking absolutely delectable in their waxed baggies—, and she usually sells out by 10. Luckily, we arrived by 8, and we had our pick—literally, as she let us pick which ones. We wandered around a bit, picked up more root beer and assorted sodas from Garrison Brewing, and made our way back up the hill to the hotel. Sidenote: All the walking makes me feel just a *little* less guilty about eating our way through the Maritimes. Just a little.

Initially, our plan was to hit the Halifax Seaport Farmer’s Market, visit the Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21, have lunch, visit the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, and maybe even the art gallery. We were able to do everything but the Immigration Museum; Halifax has some incredible sights and museums, and, unfortunately, we couldn’t fit them all in and do each justice. Ah, decisions.

We spent our Fourth of July in Nova Scotia, marking Day #10 of our three-week road trip through Maine and the Maritimes. This day’s itinerary took us from the historic town of Lunenburg to the capital city of Halifax. Our route included some of the most picturesque spots thus far, and some of the biggest crowds, too!

Lunenburg is one of those historic towns that begs for the use of words like “cute,” “charming,” and “quaint,” and “picturesque”—and it lives up to each one. I’ll be honest: I saw the photos in guidebooks and online and wondered if the town would really look that way or if those images were just due to camera and editing skills. You know what? Lunenburg is the real deal—it’s a town that really is picture-perfect. But it’s also a town filled with rich culture and history…and even a few ghosts.

Our first full day in Nova Scotia showcased everything that’s so great about the region: the hospitality and generosity of its people, great fishing, good food, incredible landscape, and breathtaking scenery. Over the course of the next week or so, as we make our way around the island and then up and around Cape Breton, we’re going to explore as many nooks and crannies of this province that we can…and in so doing, I’m sure we’ll fall more and more in love with all of it.

Let’s start out with the old adage, “Even the best laid plans…”

This was one of the days in the entire itinerary that I kept going back and forth on. I think I made four different reservations and canceled them all before deciding on where exactly we’d stay and what we’d do. And then even all of that changed. Bottom line: A lot of driving. But a day that ended in Digby, NS, eating Digby scallops. And lobster. Because, well, it’s lobster.

The trip to Hopewell Rocks was worth it, even with the less than ideal weather. Walking on the ocean floor, G said, was really cool. I reminded him that we do that all the time at home, when we walk on the beach at low tide. He said it was different. I said it wasn’t. But it’s the beach—not the ocean floor, he said. Now keep in mind that he’s the super-analytical one; I’m the one who says stuff that doesn’t always make sense (to me, yes; to others, not so much). But that’s what the beach is, I said—it’s the ocean floor (sand) at low tide. He then proceeded to tell me that I had ruined the magic.

We crossed over to Campobello Island (and had the absolute nicest Canadian border patrol agent) around 2:30 ADT (the Maritimes are one hour ahead of Eastern Standard Time). I had added Campobello to the itinerary for two main reasons: to visit Roosevelt Campobello International Park (I’m a little bit of a history geek and have long admired both FDR and Eleanor Roosevelt) and to visit Head Harbour Light, which can be accessed at low tide. Both were spectacular and well worth the visit!

Ah, Bar Harbor...the town that perhaps set this entire road trip in motion 19 years ago. Then, we had been married a year and looking to do something small but special to celebrate our first anniversary. We initially thought of driving to Nova Scotia for a few days; however, with the cost of the ferry and the additional expense of bringing our car over, we deemed the trip would be too expensive. So we decided to at least do the drive and stay in the town from where we would have taken the ferry—Bar Harbor. And so began our love affair with Acadia National Park, which, according to the National Park Service is the “Crown Jewel of the North Atlantic Coast.”

I missed Monhegan the minute we left and vowed to return. It’s one of those places that sticks with you, and I was filled with questions and curiosities. Still, we needed to leave and continue on our journey, with our next stop just a mile down the road: Marshall Point Lighthouse, the lighthouse featured in the 1994 film Forrest Gump. The lighthouse is a beauty and so very worth the stop. That day, the bridge, the fog, the light itself—incredible. Ah, Maine. Maybe it’s true what the state’s welcome sign says; Maine really is the way life should be.

Monhegan certainly cast its spell on us. And yet, I couldn’t tell if G (the introvert) liked it at first—he kept saying it was so quiet, so still, that he wasn’t sure he could get used to it. That, however, was exactly what drew me (the extrovert) in. And then, by the time we were set to leave, both of us were ready to stay longer. One day just wasn’t enough.

Day two of our three-week road trip took us from Boothbay Harbor, Maine, through Rockland, and up to Camden. Two lighthouses, a burger, and another great old inn made for a fantastic second day!

While we live just about 15 miles from the Maine border, our travels these past 24 years together have largely skipped the Casco Bay area and focused either on southern Maine (Kittery, York, Ogunquit, and the Kennebunks), Freeport, or Bar Harbor/Acadia National Park. We’ve visited Portland a handful of times and few places in between all the others, but not often. Our Memorial Day trip to Hermit Island Campground in Phippsburg with our van changed that, as we finally had the chance to explore one of Maine’s “fingers” along Casco Bay. For this trip, we’ll be exploring parts of Maine on both the front and back ends, and we decided to make our first stop in Boothbay Harbor, a town we had only visited once before.

To celebrate our 20th anniversary, we’ll driving up the coast of Maine with stops in Boothbay Harbor, Camden, Monhegan Island, and Bar Harbor. From there, we’ll cross the border to New Brunswick, visiting Campobello Island, St. Andrews, and then Fundy National Park. We’ll drive across to Nova Scotia and make our way around the province—all the way around and up and around Cape Breton Island. We’ll then travel from Wood Island, NS, across the Northumberland Strait to revisit PEI. After a few days there, we’ll head back home.

Our van is a teenager. A 17-year-old, to be exact. Soon to be 18. Now, I’m not a parent, but I have taught high school for two decades, so I feel like I know this bunch pretty well. 17. It’s an age that’s wrapped up in contradictions—caught between innocence and its opposite (what is that even called??), adolescence and adulthood, immaturity and maturity. 17 has its sights on the future, on colleges and careers. 17 is almost done with school and authority. And 17 takes every opportunity to let us know that it’s an adult...well, almost. 17 can be going along swimmingly until it decides to assert its independence and rebel. Just for the hell of it. 17 can wow us with just how wise and mature it’s become and then, in the next second, exasperate us and make us wonder, “I thought we were past that.”

it’s not until you walk around to the back of Pemaquid that you take in the scene in all its Maine coast glory. Those rocks. That surf. The light. I can only imagine how dramatic a scene against a fiery sunset or sunrise or stormy skies. Even on this day, the sight was impressive.

If you know us, you know that we love lobster rolls. Honestly, nothing says summer in New England than a classic split-top, squared-side frankfurter roll (not to be confused with the rounded, side-split hot dog bun!) piled high with chilled, fresh lobster meat tossed with just a hint of mayo. I take my lobster rolls seriously, and I’m always seeking out new ones to try to see if they’ll make it to the top of my growing list. So, when we decided to camp at Hermit Island in Phippsburg, Maine, over the Memorial Day weekend, we set out to find the weekend’s best lobster roll. Three days, three lobster rolls.