Baie Verte—it was a bay and it was green

"What these wooded points of land have in common is that they seem like secret hideouts, like the forts my friends and I would build in the alders near our home when I was a kid."

I can't help thinking we didn't give Baie Verte a chance. The construction detour in the middle that sent us back to the highway didn't help.

I was hoping to be surprised by a trip around Baie-Verte to where New Brunswick meets Nova Scotia at Tidnish. I was hoping it might be like rounding Cape Horn where we might discover some bird found only there, or that the customs were strange and exotic.

The only strange thing we found was a woman sitting in what looked like a toll booth with a Do Not Disturb sign on her door. No doubt she was eccentric and intriguing but she just looked silly sitting in a re-sided toll booth. And she wasn't even in New Brunswick.

What we did see was a lot of marsh. Baie-Verte is a small, narrow bay which means the shores don't take the kind of pounding needed for good beach so there is a lot of salt marsh and only a handful of places where the water is accessible. We were determined to find at least one real beach so we explored the first likely beach road we came to.

Mason Beach was a cottage village hidden in the woods much like Treasure Island (Surrette Island) up the coast near Cocagne. What these wooded points of land have in common is they seem like secret hideouts, like the forts my friends and I would build in the alders near our home when I was a kid. I can see the appeal of these hideaways, though living in such close proximity with your neighbors—the cottages in these places are always packed close together—is not for us. But we all need something different to keep our lives balanced. Hidden away in the trees with a group of people is probably good for some.

I wish there were more farms that go right to the water because they're so picturesque. Unfortunately, most of that land has been sold for cottages, which is all right, too, as we ourselves own such a property.

Hicks Beach up the road, on the other hand, was almost treeless, with dead end roads running every which way. We were pursued by a backhoe the whole time we were there. He was repairing potholes and everywhere we turned he was either in front of us or coming up behind. We might have gotten out and explored but I'm sure anywhere we parked would have been in his way. Each time he passed us he had a friendly smile and wave for us. He was obviously have fun.

In between these two beaches is Port Elgin. This village is like so many villages these days. Prosperity, centralization and improved roads have meant anything that holds a community together has been sucked away to places like Moncton. Standing in a parking lot by the bridge we looked around and saw nothing that drew us to explore.

If we asked around I'm sure someone would have told us, "That's where the mayor used to live and that's where the bank was. That was the pub." There was a beautiful Bed and Breakfast, the VictorianVeranda, but why would we stay? What would we do? Port Elgin, like so many small communities has been reduced to a suburb.