peggy's cove nova scotia FROM WHEELCHAIR NOMAD DIARY... 2003 CC Richard and I continued driving to the scenic fishing village, Peggys Cove accessed on Highway 333 via Freeway 102 south and 103 west. The seventy-kilometre drive consumed ninety minutes. Highway 333 meanders slowly around inlets and through small fishing villages. Peggys Cove was in the news in 1998, with the crash of a Swissair Flight near there and the death of more than three hundred passengers. We visited the memorial site, situated on bare granite, surrounded by boulders, overlooking the ocean. They have gone to join the sea and air, the memorial read. Peggys Cove reminded me of a Disneyland presentation in Los Angeles or Orlando, Florida. Everything was a too perfect, too scenic, weathered cedar singled houses, rugged Precambrian era boulders and granite scraped clean by glaciation, dories, lobster pots, nets, and grizzled white beared fishermen in yellow raincoats and gum boots. Surely, these stereotypical fisherman characters were actors, I thought. I wondered if some famous landscape magician had been hired to stage this scene. Even the numerous tourists seemed to support the Disney illusion of a gigantic theme park. Yet this was a real, functional fishing village. I wished I could purchase the place and charge admission.
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