We are tattered and torn.  Bruised and beaten.  I feel I can barely get out of bed. My fault.  I am breaking all of my own rules, and only because I saw a bare snippet at the end of a documentary Michael was watching on Nova Scotia while we were staying on Price Edward Island; a picture of the French Fortress at Louisbourg on Cape Breton Island. My first reaction was — I want, I need, I have to see that. The lure of the old tugs too strongly for me to say, “NO — it won’t work.” Plus, I underestimated the time, and then there was the trail…

Because I have a problem with self-denial, we are speeding down the highway at 7 am on our way to the end of the earth, and I have just recently found out The Fortress is a recreation — not original.  We are on our way to Disneyland!  I look at Michael and feel like I need to apologize for this aberration of mine.

“I can’t believe we are driving six hours just to see a theme park,” I say. But I made reservations at a B&B in Louisbourg while still on PEI, so I feel committed to my whims.  Six hours there.  Six hours back. Two days.

The Fortress at Louisbourg

Our Arrival

A little after 1 pm, we pull into one of the myriad parking lots for this historic site — for the site is real — a French fortress did exist here, apparently with the same footprint. I’m not sure what we are in for; I’ve barely read anything and done little to no research. However, upon our approach from across the bay, it did look fascinating.

Stark and lonely.

I can’t help but remember what Owen told me when we were waiting in line for such a long time at Red’s that Sunday in Maine, “This sure better be worth it.” 

Ditto.

We purchase tickets, are directed to a shuttle bus, and I begin having a Deja Vu moment — this feels like the time we visited Williamsburg but at a fraction of the price. The bus drops us off at what appears to be a very long walk to the fortress gates.

Just outside the gates, a gentleman in period costume greets us. He portrays a local fisherman who welcomes us and tells us about his home — the fishing hut beside the path.

I did read a tiny bit about Louisburg last night, and that is how I found out we were going to a reconstructed fortress rather than the real thing.  Apparently, the Canadian government replicated a large portion of the entire town down to the number and type of nails in its exactness.  Looking through the gates reminds me of why I wanted to come here.

As we continue our journey, what lies before me is truly amazing. I tell Michael, “I’m almost more curious about why the Canadians went to all the trouble to rebuild this fortress-town than I am about the history and why it was here in the first place.”

Louisburg, the Town

Crossing the moat, entering the town, I hear voices; I am compelled to investigate.  Another individual in period costume, a humble soldier, tells us his tale. He loves talking, and Michael and I love listening.

To make a long history short, France was responsible for building Louisbourg in 1713 to protect its stake in the New World from the British. It didn’t work; the English captured the fort in 1745; however, three years later, the English gave it back to the French as part of a negotiation to obtain border towns in Europe.

A mere ten years later, in 1758, the English declared war on France one more time, and the fortress was captured and razed.  End of story — almost.

The French king lets his people know that they are at war.

An Explanation

“But, why,” I ask, “did they reconstruct it?” The answer makes me like Canada even more.

Apparently, in the 1960s, the coal mines in Cape Breton were being depleted, and there was an entire contingent of the population without work. To the tune of almost one-quarter of a billion dollars in today’s money, the Canadian government saw this reconstruction project as a way to help put out-of-work-citizens back to work (I see shades of FDR and the Civilian Conservation Corps in the US). The Canadian government sent many of the miners to France to learn the skills it would take to build a city from scratch to the exact specifications and plans used in the original town over 200 years ago.

Michael and I leave our two-legged encyclopediae and begin poking our noses — everywhere.

The Fortress at Louisbourg is no theme park — this is time travel. An eerie feeling permeates the air as we walk through mostly deserted streets. Being shoulder season, being off the beaten track, being at the edge of the world — tourists are few and far between. It is just us and the ghosts of Louisbourg as we take an afternoon stroll through history.

Everything we see — for many reasons — takes my breath away. Wherever we go, I continually fall in love with Canada and its people.

It was worth the six-hour drive just to be here — and pretend.

Days End

After checking in at our overly red — both inside and out — overly Victorian B&B (“Creepy,” Michael tells me), we head down to the car for dinner. However, it seems the local lighthouse is calling Michael’s name, so we make a detour. 

Louisbourg Lighthouse

The Louisbourg Lighthouse, built in 1923, sits on the same spot where Canada’s first lighthouse stood in 1734, and this lighthouse is wonderful!  Everything about it is wonderful.  Its splendid isolation, its location, its walking trails, and its rocks. I could sit here forever and wait for the sun to set, watching the colors transform the early evening sky. 

Michael suggests we do just that but then changes his mind; sunset is hours away, and the evening grows colder by the minute. Michael could probably take the cold — he relishes it — but he knows that I do not.

9/12/2014 6:53:24 AM