The 6 hour flight to Halifax was, mercifully, eventless and, despite being delayed for almost an hour due to a technical problem with the onboard lavatories, arrived on time at about 2.40pm local time. The airport has a lot of charm. The baggage hall conveyors boast model boats and light houses, and visitors are greeted by a cheerful tartan-clad team of elderly volunteers. Even so, the woman running the airport shuttle desk and our monosylabic cab driver, should, perhaps, take a leaf out of their book.
The airport turned out to be rather further from the centre of Halifax than we expected. The drive into town was dull, disappointing almost. Forestry and shale embankments dominate the views. In terms of scenery, the M4 is probably more interesting. In the end, we arrived at the Haliburton Hotel too late to collect the bikes today.
We did, however, manage to speak to the shipping office before they closed at 5pm, and ascertained that our bikes had arrived. And, having tried unsuccessfully to connect to the hotel internet, we eventually wandered up to the nearest Starbucks and managed to receive an email telling us how to go about releasing them from customs along with a bill for $Can 327 for doing so just a wee bit more than we remembered from last time, and it will effectively clean us out of half our Canadian cash.
We had dinner in Maxwell’s Plum, a self-styled Engish “pub” serving 60 different beers and inexpensive steaks.