Its Liverpool Jim but not as we know it!

If there is one thing our adventure has taught us so far it is that any journey involves adversity and that you must take the rough with the smooth, well for us the next couple of weeks were about to get as rough as a badger’s bottom.

There was little time to revel in the jubilation of having our offer on ‘The’ house accepted, we had a week to have a home, septic tank and well inspection completed, and the results submitted before the offer went unconditional and settlement had to be made, and our time at the Lilly Pad had also ended.

With appointments made for the various inspections we packed our bags yet again and with heavy hearts bid farewell to our new best friends/best neighbours ever. Liverpool was our next Air BnB stop and all being well in a little over two weeks it would be our last.

Liverpool has an interesting and diverse history, known as the leading privateering port in British North America, it has a long and strong seafaring heritage with a gamut of lighthouses scattered along its beautifully rugged coastline, throw in the great expanses of white sand beaches and you have yourself a popular place to visit, did I also mention that it was also the birth place of Hank Snow the actor and country singer popular in the 1950’s?

Our journey there passed swiftly with Nova Scotia scenery never failing to delight and entertain us. We stopped at the beautiful Mersey River just outside Liverpool to take in the majestic sight before us, the blue sky was reflected on the still water like a mirror, if Liverpool was anything like this, we were going to have an enjoyable stay.

We followed the Mersey River into Liverpool town, which was picturesque with quaint buildings surrounding the riverbank and the arched bridge spanning from one side of the town to the other, the Mersey River effectively divides the town in two before stretching out to the ocean. While the town itself was pleasing to the eye if not a little busy for such a small town our accommodation however was not.

Our new Airbnb made us genuinely appreciate how spoilt we were at the Lilly Pad! It was lauded as being suitable for long term rentals, with onsite parking, a shower, kitchenette, and onsite washing and drying facilities. And apparently although traffic from the nearby road was purported to be busy during the day the write up stated it would quieten down in the evening.

Once again, we were the victim of photographic witchcraft, the photos made the apartment look double its actual size and whoever completed the apartment write up deserves a full one hundred out of ten for imagination and artistic license.

We found out as soon as we arrived that the onsite parking meant we could only park the Warlock at the apartment while we unpacked Lola and our bags after which we had to use the parking outside the nearby shops which was okay on the weekend when it was free. However, during the week we had to either find alternative parking, use the parking meter, or risk a fine. In the end the only other place we could find to park for free was in the curling club car park all the way down the road.

The apartment was just big enough to swing the dog around, the kitchenette consisted of a microwave (poppity ping), toaster, kettle and a fridge, any washing up after meals and drinks had to be done in bathroom sink (yep, are you imagining remnants of food stuck in the plug while you wash your face… me too!).

The electrical socket in the bedroom was falling out of the wall with the wires exposed, as was the extractor fan in the bathroom, we did indeed have a shower but without adequate water pressure it was more like a trickle than a shower, in fact we could have showered quicker and more effectively standing out in the rain.

We found the smoke detector in the storage cupboard; the fire extinguisher was last serviced back in 2013 and the washer and drier were in the hallway of the legal offices (also owned by the landlord) next door. As frustrating as all of this was, we could have lived with it, what we could not live with was the noise.

The town’s main road and a major junction was located directly outside the apartment door, during the day it was busy non-stop which was okay, we had expected it and were out most of the day anyway but contrary to the write up the traffic did not quieten down in the evening, in fact it got louder.

It felt like every boy racer with a fast car, deafening exhaust, booming stereo and God-awful taste in music either resided in Liverpool or drove through it in the nighttime hours. Often the sounds of wheels spinning, exhausts thundering, and music blaring would be our lullaby, a lullaby for an insomniac I might add!

Within a brief time, we were feeling unbelievably tired from the lack of sleep, and with each night seeming to last a lifetime, the next two weeks were going to feel like two years. We did our best to get out during the day to get away from the confined space and the noise, Martin and I have a solid marriage, but I did not rate its chances of survival (okay, Martins’s chances of survival) if we had to stay in that apartment for prolonged periods.

For that first week when we were not in Bridgewater visiting the house for the inspections, we tried to make the most of exploring Liverpool, first up was a trip to the lighthouse at Port Medway. It was both comforting and bizarre that we could grow up in the Medway Towns in the UK, spend our youth playing in and alongside the Medway River to then grow up, move away to the other side of the world, and then eventually settle close to a place called Port Medway with the River Medway running through it!

Not only that, but the sign also showing you are entering Port Medway makes mention of it being the home of Carroll Baker, the universe really does have a sense of humour.

There were also frequent walks for Lola on well laid out trails and through the woods which she loved as much as the tick inspections that followed those walks, honestly anyone would have thought she was getting a beauty treatment! Lying flat on her back, legs akimbo, no dignity, no shame just pure bliss in her half-closed eyes.

We still tried to visit Annapolis Royal to see our friends as much as possible, it was also helpful that the lawyer we had engaged for the settlement of the house was situated in Annapolis Royal town (any excuse to go back). On one such visit we had to get some urgent documents notarised in preparation for the house settlement and unable to get into the lawyers to do it at that time we made our way to the Annapolis Royal Police station located a stone’s throw away from the lighthouse.

The Annapolis Royal Police are the most senior police service in Canada and the station itself is designated a heritage building, the building was undergoing renovation and unable to work out where the station front door was, we knocked on a random back door which we presumed went through to the cells. The door was opened by a tall man in a police uniform, bingo, we were in the right place!

Straight away we realised that the officer stood before us was not just any old police officer, no he was the Chief of the Annapolis Police Service and hailed from Cambridge in the UK, what are the odds? Not only that but he knows and trained with a couple of Martins ex-UK police colleagues who now police in NZ. Everyone knows everyone in Nova Scotia, so be careful what you tell people!

Forty-five minutes later with our documents notarised, an invite to dinner later that week and an offer of a job at AR police in the future for Martin we left the police station, spending our entire journey back to Liverpool marvelling at the magic of the universe and that no matter how lonely we may feel at times we are still connected to someone, somewhere at some time.

Our septic tank, well and house inspections went favourably albeit with a couple of things being noted on the house inspection that we might want to raise with the vendors, one of which was the wooden stairs leading to the front door of the property which were rotten, not attached to the house, had a wonky leg and were not compliant with building code.

The vendors were open to discussion on the stairs and asked us to get a quote for the value of repairs or replacement which was far easier said than done! Like many places post Covid there is a huge skilled trades shortage in NS, all the trades are desperately short of labour and have work coming out of their ears and consequently are booked up months ahead, so try as we may we failed miserably to get a quote from a builder within the specified period.

In the end we agreed to take the blue house (our house), warts and all. We knew that there were renovations ahead of us and that no doubt we would find a few surprises along the way, but the home inspector was confident that the house was sound, well made and that we got a bargain, we were happy with that.

Challenges are what makes life interesting. Overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.

With the first week over all that remained was the final settlement and payment of the house and then it would be ours, although exhausted due to staying in boy racer central we were in good spirits and excited to be prospective homeowners again.

The next week should be easy, with nothing on the agenda but a trip to the bank in Halifax, signing on the dotted line, transferral of settlement funds, acceptance of the house keys, and some sightseeing. Little did we know that something was about to happen that could have financially ruined us and turned our Canadian dream into a Canadian nightmare.

We would not be walking away from Liverpool with fond memories.

I would like to add a disclaimer at this point as I do not wish to offend or insult any Nova Scotian Liverpudlians, we had nothing against Liverpool’s per se it was more to do with our experience while we stayed there.