My plane landed in Halifax, Nova Scotia toward the end of October 2013. With no real plan other than catching a train from one side of the country to the other, eventually reaching Vancouver on the west coast, I had no idea where I would go, what I would see, or who I would meet along the way. I’ve always preferred travelling without a strict agenda, guided more by instinct than itinerary, with only a loose list of places I’d like to visit.
Walking off the plane onto Canadian soil and seeing the national flag waving in the wind felt significant. I knew I had finally made it to Canada, and more than that, I knew I was exactly where I needed to be. Customs was calm and efficient, and staff politely directed me to collect my visa. Arriving around 10pm worked in my favour, with only a few people ahead of me. By the time my bags appeared on the carousel, Chris was waiting nearby, clearly just as surprised to see me as I was to be there. I picked up my bags with the biggest smile on my face. Canada had officially begun.
Chris and his family kindly drove me first to Dartmouth to drop things off before heading across the bridge into Halifax. Seeing houses decorated for Halloween was a great introduction to North America, along with the style of homes, so different from what I was used to back in Brisbane. Chris gave me a quick driving tour of the city before dropping me at my hostel. We exchanged numbers, said our goodbyes, and I headed inside to check in.
Hunger quickly set in, so I dropped my bags and went out for a walk. A grocery store, an ATM to grab some Canadian currency, and an open pizza shop appeared in quick succession. Wandering the streets, it dawned on me that Halloween was only days away. A familiar thought crept in and refused to leave. New York. I pushed it aside for the moment and headed back to the hostel to get some sleep.
The following morning started early. New York could wait until later in the day. Halifax deserved exploring first. A nearby cemetery became my first stop, where I discovered that several victims of the Titanic were buried, something I hadn’t known. Halifax’s role in the aftermath of the disaster was an unexpected piece of history. Coffee in hand, I continued on toward the Citadel.
Perched above the city, the Halifax Citadel is steeped in history, particularly from the War of 1812 and World War II, when it played a crucial role in protecting the harbour from potential attacks. A few hours later, the walk downhill led toward the Museum of Natural History. Tuesdays meant the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic stayed open late and offered free entry, making it an easy decision.
Cutting through the Halifax Public Gardens on the way back toward the centre of town, time was spent exploring more of downtown before heading to the waterfront. The Maritime Museum of the Atlantic provided deeper insight into the Titanic and the region’s long maritime history. By the end of the day, museum fatigue had well and truly set in.
A change of pace felt necessary, so the ferry across to Dartmouth followed, ending at a haunted house that leaned fully into the Halloween spirit. The experience was a lot of fun. Later that evening, back in Halifax, a drink and late dinner gave me time to reflect and finally consider the question that had been quietly building all day.
Should I go to New York for Halloween?
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