Welcome to Destinations by Donaldson! In the blog posts that follow, you’ll find practical tips and insider info designed to make your travels more relaxing and fun. I’ll also highlight ideas and itineraries for 50+ travel, wellness travel, girlfriend getaways and multigenerational adventures.
Suggestions and feedback are always welcome so feel free to share in the ‘Comments’ section of the posts or email me at cathykdonaldson@outlook.com. Happy travels!
The one about the Lonely Planet gig
Before y’all send out a search party for my travel blog, I thought I’d drop by with a wee update.
As some of you know, I joined three other travel writers—Jennifer Bain, Darcy Rhyno and Carolyn Heller—in producing content last year for a new Lonely Planet guidebook on Atlantic Canada to be published this spring. My focus was to write the chapter on New Brunswick, my home for more than 25 years now.
I was pumped to write for Lonely Planet, my favourite guidebook series, one known for giving travellers no-nonsense info on destinations as well as great recommendations for experiences. It was especially cool to be co-authoring the book on the heels of the publication’s 50th anniversary. Since launching Lonely Planet in 1973, British couple Maureen and Tony Wheeler have published hundreds of guidebooks on locales around the world. (Their enterprise is now owned by Red Ventures media company.)
I spent much of last May and June doing research across the province, travelling for weeks at a time to better understand each region, its unique history, its people and stuff visitors might like to explore in each area. From Moncton to McAdam, Grand Barachois to Grand Falls, Elsipogtog to Edmundston, Fundy to Florenceville and all points in between, it was the adventure of a lifetime.
I loved revisiting places I’d travelled to over the past few decades but especially enjoyed trapsing around new-to-me destinations such as Grand Manan, New River Beach, the Kingston Peninsula and Miscou Island. So much beauty and so many interesting, friendly New Brunswickers happy to chat!
Those who follow me on social media know that one of my most memorable experiences on the road came in the north-central part of the province. Ahead of a visit to Mount Carleton Provincial Park, I’d booked a night at Les Chalets Restigouche in Kedgwick River.
Not long after opening the door to my lovely log cabin, property co-owner Bass Hodgson—who knew I was writing for Lonely Planet—stopped by and offered to take me for a spin in his side-by-side vehicle. I jumped at the chance for only my second-ever ride in an off-road vehicle. (Can you really call yourself a Maritimer if you’ve never been on an ATV?)
With Bass at the helm of the side by side, I buckled up for an exciting sunset expedition along bumpy roads and muddy trails. My chauffeur and I kept our eyes glued to the woods in hopes of spotting wildlife I could photograph.
“There!” he exclaimed about 15 minutes into our trek, pointing to a distant speck and bringing the vehicle to a halt. Before I barely had time to take off my seatbelt, Bass was running through the thick brush at roadside, occasionally making odd vocalizations to what I assumed was a moose. I attempted to follow his swift, stealthy movements, wishing I’d done some cardio prep before this unexpected tracking mission.
Alas, we were unable to catch another glimpse of the animal on that particular pursuit. But before we returned to home base, I had my moose! Though dimming light and the lack of a telephoto lens made for a poor photo of the beautiful beast, it was still a thrill to see. In fact, we spotted FOUR moose during the evening as well as two busy beavers, three fluffy rabbits, a spectacular partridge and other birdlife galore.
I fell asleep that night with an ear-to-ear grin.
There were a multitude of other ‘pinch-me’ moments during my New Brunswick tour and so much learning. I’m immensely grateful for the opportunity to become more familiar with the province’s rich history and cultural mix. I’m especially thankful to have had the chance to visit some New Brunswick First Nations. I think we all have a responsibility to better understand our Indigenous peoples and harms they have experienced, while also supporting healthy communities today.
Books and websites told me the Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik), Mi’kmaq and Passamaquoddy were the first to inhabit this province. But it was through conversations with elders and members of these communities—on nature walks, heritage tours and while I watched bannock being made in hot sand—that I really began to grasp their sacred ties to the land and creatures. I came away with a desire to learn more, respect more.
Similarly, through visits to museums, churches and other landmarks, and thanks to many wonderful chats, I gained a clearer insight into the history of the Acadians, their achievements and their resilience. It certainly gave me a better appreciation as to why so many work so hard to maintain New Brunswick’s status as Canada’s only bilingual province.
Every day of my research journey seemed to reveal another tidbit of knowledge about those who came before us, whether the Loyalists, the Scots, the Irish or the many others who helped shape this province. Of course, I also witnessed the tremendous growth in cultural diversity during my travels and had a chance to talk to folks from many parts of the globe who now reside here.
What’s ahead for this travel writer?
I’m working on some new stories and looking forward to some special summer events. One is an annual conference of accredited Canadian travel writers—the Travel Media Association of Canada—set this year for St. John’s, Newfoundland. The highlight for me will be a post-conference tour entitled, “Hike Your Arse Off in Western Newfoundland.” Fingers crossed that neither that body part nor any of the rest of me will be adversely affected, especially since both of my daughters have weddings later this summer.
Whether you have upcoming adventures in Atlantic Canada or points beyond, happy trails!
Beware the SSSS!
The skies are not as friendly as they used to be when it comes to air travel.
Flights are expensive and disruptions abound, from delays due to crew shortages to outright cancellations.
But I still love to fly. I love how quickly (in a perfect world…) you can get from Point A to Point B. I love the rush of leaving terra firma and seeing the planet from a different vantage point. I love the peaceful feeling of climbing into the cottonball clouds, above all the noise of the planet below.
So when I do fork over the big bucks for a flight, I do as much as I can ahead of time to make the journey easier, at least when it comes to things in my control.
I check in online 24 hours before departure. I stick to carry-on baggage to avoid lost luggage. I arrive early at airports. I have a NEXUS card in hopes of speedier entry to the U.S.
While all of those strategies can make a difference, they won’t stop the SSSS.
My initiation to the SSSS (aka ‘The Quad S’) came last week. I was gearing up to fly from Halifax, N.S., to Newark, N.J. and was having trouble printing my boarding pass, even though I was within the requisite 24 hours of my flight. I was advised by my airline to get the pass at the airport.
No biggie, I thought. I’ll just spin by Halifax’s Stanfield International en route to a nearby friend’s place, where I was staying the night before my flight. Having the boarding pass in hand would mean less hassle the next day and result in a better night’s sleep. (Despite many trips under my belt, I’m still a slightly anxious flyer.)
At Stanfield, I had no issue getting the boarding pass and was soon back in my car, off to my friend’s home.
I didn’t notice the bold ‘SSSS‘ on the bottom left and right of the boarding pass until after I returned to the airport the next morning and entered the International Departures security area. After handing the pass to the agent at the podium, he smiled and said something along the lines of, “You’re a lucky one today.” He put my boarding pass and passport in a small, orange folder and instructed me to give it to his colleague in the tray area ahead. I walked a few steps and joined passengers putting their belongings into plastic trays for xray scanning, all the while sensing that the agent’s comment about me being “lucky” would not result in anything remotely fun.
I was right.
Turns out the ‘SSSS’ means ‘Secondary Security Screening Selection’. My later research revealed that the extent of that screening can vary by airport and agent but essentially means an enhanced check of the passenger.
As soon I handed the tray-area agent my orange folder, I felt as though a ‘Red Alert’ had been announced on the USS Enterprise. Other agents in the vicinity were suddenly looped in about my status and a lot of eyeballs seemed directed my way.
Had I unknowingly taken up a life of crime overnight? Had I been transported to a parallel universe? Was there a TV crew filming a new episode of Border Security over my shoulder?
I tried to remain calm as I executed the usual tasks of putting my carry-on suitcase, jacket and purse in trays atop the metal assembly line rollers. I remembered to remove my laptop and phone from my baggage, as well as my airport-approved, one-litre bag of liquids and gels.
I also dutifully removed my footwear, as one generally does when going through international security areas.
The ‘Quad S’ protocols then kicked in and I was advised to unpack any other footwear in my possession and place those in trays.
And take my phone out of its case. And power on all of my electronics.
While I tended to those assignments, the agent placed rectangular SSSS-stamped cards–about twice the size of a cell phone–in each of my bins. The line behind me grew longer as the scrutiny continued. I sighed, knowing there was nothing I could do, though pretty much felt like a big ol’ loser.
Thankfully, nary a beep could be heard during the next step, the Walk-Through Metal Detector. Phew, it’s almost over, I thought.
Not so fast.
It was then on to the hand swab for explosive residue and the body scanner booth, both of which I’d done before. All clear, again.
Freedom at last, I assumed, and turned to collect my things.
But no.
A female agent quietly infomed me that I would require a full-body pat-down, which I could do on the spot or in a private room. I gave her the go-ahead to do the pat-down right then and there. The agent was polite but thorough as she searched my person from my neckline to my socks. Meanwhile, pretty much every inch of my carry-on suitcase, backpack and other trayed items were being swabbed and examined.
Thankfully, all was in order. My boarding pass was given a ‘CATSA’ stamp indicating I had passed a review by the Canadian Air Transport Security Authority.
I repacked my slew of stuff, retrieved my documents and headed for my gate. I pondered a morning beer stop rather than a tea break and was grateful I had plenty of time before my departure.
Honestly, I have no issue with the additional probing and understand the value of random checks. I decided to write this simply to let folks know the SSSS exists and that it can add extra time to your screening. I was only delayed 10 to 15 minutes but have read that it can add as much as 45 minutes to your customs’ visit.
And also note: a TSA PreCheck doesn’t preclude you from getting The Quad S. The code apparently overrides the Trusted Traveler Program.
I should point out that I learned in my subsequent online investigation that the SSSS code can also signal that a passenger is on a flight watchlist and that it may occur repeatedly. I was very happy NOT to see the four letters appear on the boarding pass for my return flight to Halifax and am hopeful it was just a one-off.
If a flight is on your horizon, here’s wishing you a safe journey, clear skies and no unusual letters on your boarding pass!
View art! Do art!
Art has always held a special place in my heart, especially painting and photography. That has a lot to do with the fact I was raised by two amazing visual artists: my mom, Betty Krawchuk, an accomplished painter (sampling of her work above); and my dad, David Krawchuk, a top-notch amateur photographer (some of my faves below).
Despite my mom’s best efforts, I never became adept with the paintbrush though she helped me to understand the principles and elements of art and design, and to appreciate painting, sculpture and the like.
In terms of skill, I fared better with the camera, making good use of dad’s training in photography and darkroom techniques.
All in all, my folks definitely contributed to my passion for photojournalism and the creative arts.
Just why am I and so many others drawn to the arts and creative endeavours?
I love how Germaine Pataki-Thériault, managing director of Fredericton’s Gallery 78, summed up the importance of art in a 2020 Daily Gleaner article:
“Art engages the heart, stimulates the mind, promotes conversation, increases creativity, and helps us look at things in new ways,” she said.
I could not agree more, especially with the “engages the heart” bit. There’s nothing better for my soul than creating something, whether it’s a rich narrative for a story, a striking image of a wave crashing against a rocky shoreline or a first-time recipe.
Each one of us is an artist as far as I’m concerned, and we should all make time to make!
In her book, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, Elizabeth Gilbert suggests that the reader, “Create whatever causes a revolution in your heart.” Yes! Grab that joy!
Along with allowing your own creative juices to flow, take time to enjoy the beauty created by other artists, whatever their medium. Viewing art is SO good for the soul–I speak from experience!
After a rather blah January, my creative spirit got a big boost recently after visiting the Downtown Gallery Hop in Fredericton. It was my first time to the free event, part of the capital region’s FROSTival winter carnival celebrations. I’m embarrassed to say it was also my inaugural trip to any of the area’s galleries so I had to make up for lost time!
My younger daughter and her fiancé joined me in exploring Gallery 78, the newly-renovated Beaverbrook Art Gallery and The Artisan District, a fine craft gift shop featuring works by artisans from across the Maritimes.
I could write a separate blog about each of our venue visits. Suffice to say we were thoroughly impressed, make that blown away, by the beauty, quality and variety of the creations we saw. Here are just a few snippits from our trek to Gallery 78, located at 796 Queen St…
…the Beaverbrook Art Gallery, 703 Queen St.:
…and The Artisan District, 610 Queen St.
Since we only covered half of the stops on the Gallery Hop schedule during our evening exploration, I returned to the streets of Fredericton the next day to visit many of the others, including Gallery on Queen, 406 Queen St., the George Fry Gallery, 408 Queen St. and the Charlotte Street Arts Centre, 732 Charlotte St. There were no crowds like the night before so I happily took my time perusing the paintings, photographs, carvings and other designs.
As with our tour the previous evening, my solo adventure unveiled a riot of colour, a mecca of imagination, and left me feeling completely inspired!
And so, dear reader, let’s ditch our inclination to hibernate this winter. Instead, let’s let loose and:
- create something… whatever brings us joy… a song, a poem, a cake, a funny video… let’s enjoy the process and not let perfection be our enemy!
- activate our imagination with a trip to a local gallery, craft shop or library… or simply unplug and take a walk in nature, a great place to find our artistic groove.
This one’s for you, Moncton!
When hubby got a relocation offer to the east coast two-and-a-half decades ago, we were over the moon.
It’s not that we hadn’t enjoyed stints living on Montreal’s West Island and in Vernon, B.C., but we both missed the Maritimes. Oodles.
We’d met in Halifax and longed to reconnect with friends there. And I had family in Cape Breton who’d warmly welcomed Montreal-born hubby to the fold.
We scratched our heads a bit when a transfer offer came through for us to move to Moncton, N.B. Neither of us had spent much time in the hub city and only knew it as an occasional highway stop on road trips to central Canada. Our goal after seven years of living ‘away’ was to return to Halifax, a city we both knew well, hubby as an accountant, me as a newspaper reporter.
Ultimately, hubby took the Moncton deal and off we went to our beloved east coast. It might not be our first pick, but it was closer to home and worth a try!
Fast forward to last night.
I’m seated next to hubby at Moncton’s Avenir Centre, one of more than 8,000 hockey fans pumped to watch a World Junior Championship game between the U.S. and Finland.
Even though no Canadian team is playing, the place is awash in red with a multitude of folks wearing Team Canada jerseys, Moncton Wildcats’ jerseys and other crimson apparel.
Buoyed by an enthusiastic organist, I clap with the crowd. I jump up and do the wave when it reaches our section. I laugh when the Jumbotron captures an audience member being silly.
My heart swells with Canadian pride, Moncton pride.
After the match, hubby and I meet up with some friends at a cordoned-off area just outside the arena, buy a local beer and nab a spot at a picnic table to watch the start of the Canada-Sweden game being televised on a massive screen. A growing group of onlookers roars as their team nets a goal. I take in the scene and smile.
Later, we wander closer to the skating oval outside the Avenir Centre, where skaters of all ages are doing their thing and hundreds more sans skates are watching another enormous screen with the game. Food trucks offering everything from Beavertails to poutine are busy. There is laughter. There is joy. So much joy!
We leave the downtown core and walk a short distance to our car. The rest of the night, I think about this city, this region.
I think of the sense of community it has offered my family, the warmth of the neighbourhood in which hubby and I have raised our daughters, the village of friends we have made.
I think of the opportunities for exploration and adventure this region has given us, from good times on the water slides at Magic Mountain to fun treks around the Moncton Zoo, long walks and bikes along the North West Trail, Centennial Park, Mapleton Park, Mill Creek Nature Park, Irishtown Nature Park, splashes and sunset picnics at Parlee and Aboiteau beaches, fried clams in Bouctouche, lobster rolls and sticky buns in Alma, learning about the tides of the Bay of Fundy by checking out the tidal bore or visiting Hopewell Rocks, taking hikes in Fundy and Kouchibouguac National Parks, lining up for treats at the Moncton and Dieppe farmers’ markets, dining out at our favourite area restaurants, nurturing our love of words at the Frye Festival, enjoying concerts at the Capitol, the Casino and ‘the hill’, volunteering and/or participating in local runs and other community events.
I am beyond grateful.
I ponder my work as a professional travel writer, one of a handful in this province who are part of the Travel Media Association of Canada. I realize that Greater Moncton (and southeast New Brunswick, for that matter) are worthy of far more promotion and definitely more of my time. This is, indeed, a special place with amazing people.
Will I explore the world this year? Definitely.
Will I write about this province and other parts of Canada? Absolutely.
Will I feature stories about things to do and see closer to home here in Greater Moncton and the southeast? More than ever.
Have suggestions on where my travels should take me in 2023? Let me know at cathykdonaldson@outlook.com.
Here’s to a healthy, happy and adventurous New Year!
Spa sent from heaven?
I love when the universe hears you.
During a crazy stretch of unexpected family emergencies and life hiccups, my mind, body and spirit longed for a reset.
Not sure if the planets aligned for me or if it was pure fluke, but in the midst of a particularly hectic morning, I spied a Facebook post from Savasana Nordic Spa promoting availability at its property, located about 40 minutes from my home in Moncton, New Brunswick.
I love spas of any kind but especially the Nordic variety, which allows clients to rejuvenate by alternating between cycles of hot and cold water, a concept that has been popular in Scandinavian countries for generations. The hydrotherapy system is believed to provide numerous benefits, such as lowering inflammation, reducing stress, strengthening the immune system and alleviating pain.
Previous visits to Nordic spas in New Brunswick and Ontario had left me feeling refreshed and renewed so I jumped on the Savasana post and emailed the owners.
Two days later, I left Moncton heading north on Route 126 and later Route 465. It was a mild morning and a lovely fall drive in Kent County, with golden trees lining the way, an occasional group of horses or cows munching happily in the fields, Halloween decor brightening front porches.
Just when I began to wonder if I’d ever get there, it appeared: a black and white sign denoting Savasana Nordic Spa. (Incidentally, Savasana is the name for what is typically the final pose in a yoga session, the one in which you lie on your back in total relaxation. Bring it on!)
From the 465, I followed a short dirt road past the property sign to Gokotta, the geodesic dome where I’d be spending the next 24 hours with some gal pals who were joining me in another vehicle from Greater Moncton.
Officially opened in January 2022, Savasana Nordic Spa sits atop a hill overlooking a tributary of the Richibucto River, such a gorgeous and serene backdrop, especially at this leaf-peeping season.
My eyes popped when our unit, Gokotta, made its reveal on the landscape: a white, igloo-shaped structure with transparent window sections; a sprawling wood deck extending from the dome to the left with features we’d have all to ourselves, including a large hot tub, screened gazebo, seating area, outdoor clawfoot bathtub and hammock-style hanging chair. (There was also a meal prep area and propane barbecue, though we cooked inside.)
When my friends arrived, we toted our bags and coolers a short distance from our parking spots to the dome, a front door mat greeting us with the phrase, “Inhale love. Exhale gratitude.”
My shoulders seemed to drop an inch.
Opening the dome’s heavy front door, we were welcomed into a modern, white kitchen with stainless steel appliances, wood panelling and quaint touches, such as a ‘Namaste’ sign perched over the stove. We peeked into a full bathroom to the left of the entry, washed our hands with a heavenly foam hand soap from Saje Natural Wellness and took a moment to read a sign explaining that “gokotta” is a Swedish word that means, “The rejuvenating act of rising at dawn to listen to the birds sing; to immerse oneself in nature.”
My shoulders seemed to drop even more.
Our exploration continued into the main dining room-living area, with the forest and stream below in full view through a series of large, triangular windowpanes. As we poked around further, we noted a diffuser emitting the faint scent of a pleasant essential oil, a meditative instrumental softly playing on a sound machine, a Himalayan salt lamp glowing in the corner, a gratitude journal ready for input and a fire burning in the propane stove.
My breath slowed and my heart swelled. Had we arrived in paradise?
Within an hour of our arrival, we’d dumped our luggage and swapped jeans for swimsuits. Soon we were cycling through sessions in the hot tub and the clawfoot tub, which we filled with cold water. I could only handle going up to my knees in the frigid liquid; others braved a more full-body plunge. Body parts tingled when placed back in the bubbling hot tub. Achy muscles relaxed. My entire being felt restored.
We took breaks from the hydrotherapy circuit to appreciate the spectacular river views and unusually warm breeze, sip beverages, chat about everything from soup to nuts and just breathe. Time seemed to stand still.
Once we felt thoroughly refreshed, we headed back inside, changed into some comfy gear, rearranged furniture a bit and rolled out two yoga mats that had been tucked in a corner. I’d brought two others and we were all able to find a spot to stretch out. Using Wi-Fi, I pulled up an episode of Yoga with Adrienne on my laptop and we attempted to follow the 30-minute episode, with lots of laughs preventing the workout from becoming too serious.
Later, we heated up a potluck dinner brought from home, our foursome feasting on a salmon-rice-salad affair as daylight grew dim outside. We flicked on interior lights and brought the wood stove to life, its flames easing the evening chill. (A mini-split heater stood at the ready for more warmth.)
When the evening drew to a close, two of the gals snuggled into a pull-out double sofa bed in the main area of the dome, while another pal and I climbed a wooden ladder to the loft space just above, where we were greeted by a sumptuous, king-size bed. A good rest was had by all.
We awoke to dazzling rays of light streaming through the dome’s clear panes. The coffee maker was soon brewing and the kettle whistling with water for tea. Before long, the aroma of a full eggs-bacon-toast breakfast permeated the air as we lounged in our jammies. Bellies full (again), we took another soothing soak in the hot tub before showering and packing for our return to Moncton.
Before we left Gokotta, we strolled by other domes on the property, Lagom and Hygge, which have similar amenities. Each sleeps one to four, with consistent layouts–an upper loft with a king-size bed and a living room sofa bed. Rates for single nights are $295+HST. Rates for a two-night stay in low season start at $275+HST per night, up to $295+HST in high season per night
The next day, I contacted one of Savasana’s owners, Raphael Lajoie, to rave about our getaway and to ask about how the spa came to be:
Q: What inspired you to create Savasana?
A: I used to be really stressed a lot. Sometimes we don’t know that we’re stressed until we go to a place where we can actually relax. Christine had given me a pass for my birthday for the USVA Spa Nordik (in Moncton). I was skeptical but I went with her and was open-minded. After a cycle or two of the thermal experience, we knew this was the type of thing we could see ourselves developing. By the time we left, I could barely walk. I didn’t realize how much the weight of stress was affecting me. When I left, I felt heavy because even though the weight had been lifted off with the relaxation, my body became really grounded because I slowed down. Since not everyone is comfortable relaxing around other people, we wanted to give the option of a private, luxury Nordic spa to relax and recharge.
Q: How did you acquire the property?
A: It was fate, honestly. My parents live five minutes down the road, on the other side of the river, from where we found the property for Savasana. It was November two years ago and we were going to my parents for lunch. As we were driving there, I passed in front of the lot we’re at now. You could tell someone had already made an entryway. You could see a trail going down but not much else. I stopped the truck by the side of the road and got out. Soon I was waist-deep in the ditch in the snow. For some reason, I felt like I absolutely had to go see what was there. Christine started following me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt like there was going to be a beautiful view somewhere. We kept walking and walking. There were a lot more trees than there are now. All of sudden, we could see treetops on the other side, almost equal to where we were standing on this big hill. Then we saw the water–it wasn’t totally covered with ice. I said, “This is it!”
Q: Do you and Christine have backgrounds in the spa industry?
A: We are both entrepreneurs by nature. My main business is Royalty Cabinets, a cabinet installation company in Moncton, and now Savasana. Christine has a lot of experience in the hospitality industry. She graduated from Oulton college in the Travel & Hospitality field. She is also a dog trainer (K-9 Kardio) and an explosive detection dog handler with her work dog, Jack. We met after I got my dog. He’s a good boy but I wanted to get her feedback on a few things. She used to live in Saint Antoine where I grew up and where I was living at the time. Things with us just went from there. We’re getting married next September.
Q: Your dad, Guy Lajoie, is involved in the business as well? And your mom?
A: Yes, dad owned Guy’s Welding in Saint Antoine and a construction company, but he is also a partner in Savasana. He and his construction company helped out a lot with the building phase. I drew my vision on a piece of paper and showed him. We bought the domes and hot tubs—the rest was built from the ground up. Dad is now co-owner, groundskeeper and our maintenance/repair man. My mom, Marie-Therese, does housekeeping, checks the hot tubs and makes our charcuterie boards.
Q: Who created the décor inside the domes?
A: Christine did that and it’s the main reason the business is thriving. You can build a business, but it doesn’t mean it’s going to be successful. Christine has a great approach with décor and worked hard to make it visually pleasing. Every little detail matters. As soon as you open the door, you have so much to help you relax: the diffuser with essential oils, the relaxing sounds from the sound machine, the décor. It all helps your body slow down and connect with all of your senses. Christine also handles our bookings, marketing, social media, the gift baskets and items you can purchase on site, and she coordinates everyone else involved in the business. It truly takes a village.
Q: Do most people bring their own food to Savasana or can you also purchase items on site?
A: If you don’t want to haul your food, you can order ahead food items for an additional cost, like charcuterie boards, barbeque boxes or breakfast boxes. Some people find it makes the experience even more relaxing.
Q: Are there any services available on site other than hydrotherapy?
A: When available, we can book deep tissue massages, hot stone massages, couples’ massages and yoga sessions from secondary service providers. It works well for us because it means fewer overhead costs. At a maximum, there are 12 guests on the entire property at any time. To have someone there full-time to potentially do a massage would not be cost-efficient so it’s on a case-by-case basis. One provider is an RMT (Registered Massage Therapist), and that (cost) can be put through insurance if you are covered. We also have an esthetician to join our team for spa or girls’ nights. And we’re planning to introduce reiki healing and sound healing.
Q: Are you pleased with how things are going so far? Any plans for the future?
A: We are really happy. The bookings have surpassed where we thought they would be. We have guests coming from across the province, even PEI, Nova Scotia, the Magdalen Islands. There are things we’re thinking about doing in the future, but we don’t want to give any secrets away yet!
History on our doorstep
I’ve always been a sucker for a good story.
Walk through the doors of the Canadian Museum of Immigration at Halifax’s Pier 21 as I did recently and you become immersed in hundreds of great stories, tales about real-life journeys of courage, hardship and resiliency. The museum’s exhibits provide rich accounts of the historic waterfront site where nearly one million immigrants arrived between 1928 and 1971.
While I haven’t done enough research yet to figure out if any of my own family members came to Canada via Pier 21, it’s inspiring to hear, read, see and learn about the many folks who made their way to this country, many sacrificing so much in their search for freedom.
After roaming the museum halls independently for a bit, I joined a guided tour led by volunteer Faith Piccolo. Pointing to rooms in a scale model of the original transit shed, she described the arrival process after newcomers left their ships. Many had travelled for a week or more to reach Canada and still had a train journey of days ahead of them.
As we moved to other exhibits, I learned that the bustling village of Pier 21 was a place where immigrants were examined, fed, nursed, sometimes housed, assisted with loans, married, even occasionally buried.
I like the fact that the Pier 21 exhibition and Canadian Immigration Hall contains places for visitors to touch, sit, smell, put stuff together and take stuff apart. I love that guests can actually contribute to the museum content, giving so much life to this important history.
The section, What Pier 21 Means to Me, tugged at my heartstrings most. At this interactive exhibit—thankfully, for me, tucked in a corner—visitors are encouraged to share their personal stories about Pier 21 by writing on luggage tags and adding them to a wall of other people’s contributions.
Not going to lie. I shed a few tears as I read dozens of the tags, each containing a personal story about an arrival at Pier 21.
I was surprised by the array of narratives, some referencing immigration to Canada decades ago, others far more recently. And apparently that’s exactly what the museum aims to do: share the ongoing story of immigration to Canada—past to present and coast to coast to coast.
The scrawled words on one tag have stayed with me since my visit. The text reads: “On July 13, 1952, my father immigrated to Canada with his parents, coming on the Grisholm from Sweden and landing at Pier 21. From here they took a train and started a new life, safe and far away from the oppressive U.S.S.R. that had been their home until they fled during WW2. Thank you for welcoming them to Canada!”
It didn’t matter that I couldn’t make out the author’s signature. The words alone will forever remind me of the importance of Pier 21 as a national symbol of Canada’s immigration heritage.
For more info on The Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21, visit their website here.
PS: If you visit the museum before Oct. 16, consider stopping by the exhibit The World of Yousuf Karsh: A Private Essence. I’m a long-time fan of the famed Canadian photographer, who came to this country as an Armenian refuge in 1924. More than 100 Karsh portraits are displayed in the exhibit, images of major figures of the 20th century, from Muhammad Ali and Glenn Gould to Helen Keller and Nelson Mandela. Highly recommend!
