Victim of its own prittiness.

A little further afield from where we are staying is Peggy’s cove. A magnet for us tourists. Such a little place overwhelmed by motorcycles, RV’s, cars and coaches. All looking for places to park. Then we take a photo, have an ice cream or a lobster roll and move on to the next picturesque spot. Large rock platforms are cut into by the creek where fisherman’s huts cling to the waters edge. Judging by the lack of development and a scene out of the nineteenth century this area must be subject to some serious planning regulations and house buying caveats. The coaches went one way and we moved on to Mahone bay. One of a number of communities further along the coast with wooden houses some over a hundred and fifty years old embellished with ornate verandas that lead down to the shoreline. The UK doesn’t have a monopoly on twee, rustic and watery settings.Weiterlesen