New Scotland, old friendships

Notes from a maritime reunion in Nova Scotia

Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia.

I’d be forgiven for thinking I never left Scotland. There were bagpipes on the boardwalk, tartan scarves in tourist shops, and a fiddler playing what might as well have been the soundtrack to Braveheart. I’d just flown nearly seven hours across the Atlantic from Edinburgh to Halifax, but as I stepped out into the crisp Canadian…