Opposite Sides of the Atlantic

by Angela Sanford

As I write this, I'm on a plane heading back home to Nova Scotia after an unforgettable vacation through Spain, Gibraltar, and Portugal. Although I was thousands of kilometres from home, I was surprised by how often I found reminders of our little province.

The first similarity was one I could have done without: internet frustrations. Reliable access to the online tools I use every week to produce High Tides Bulletin wasn't always possible. At first, I assumed it was unique to our time in Paris during the Olympics two years ago, believing heightened security measures had restricted access. But after experiencing the same issues throughout this trip—and speaking with another Nova Scotia couple from Greenwood who were encountering identical problems—I realized it wasn't an isolated incident.

In an age where we're more connected than ever, it's puzzling to me that subscriptions I've paid for and applications I’ve installed on my own devices can suddenly become unavailable simply because I've crossed an ocean. Technology has certainly made the world smaller, but it still has a way of reminding us that borders exist.

Another parallel was the abundance of North American businesses. McDonald's seemed to appear around nearly every corner, in small towns and large cities, while Staples was surprisingly common throughout Portugal. It was an unexpected reminder that, no matter where you travel, a little piece of home often follows.

Then there was the weather.

Until our final two days, daytime temperatures hovered between 41°C and 45°C, with humidity that made the heat almost unbearable. One afternoon, after our cabin room door had been left open for only a few minutes, laving the entire room feeling like a bathroom after a long, hot shower—every surface damp, every piece of clothing clammy, and the air heavy.

While we were in Gibraltar, a day of thick fog rolled in, providing a welcome break from the relentless sun. It remained humid, but it was, at least, bearable. By the time we reached Portugal on the Atlantic coast, mornings in the mid-20s actually felt cool—not because they were cold, but because we'd grown accustomed to temperatures well into the 40s.

For a region that boasts more than 360 days of sunshine each year, I was also surprised to experience a dramatic thunderstorm in southern Spain. For over an hour, heavy rain, thunder, and lightning transformed the afternoon. Yet even after the skies cleared, the temperature barely changed, as though the heat had simply shrugged off the storm.

The final similarity came from checking off a long-standing bucket list item: swimming in the Atlantic Ocean—more specifically, the Bay of Cádiz. I had imagined it would feel warmer than our Atlantic waters back home. Instead, the biggest surprise was how familiar it felt. The water temperature reminded me very much of Nova Scotia's coastline and the waves much like Rainbow Haven Beach.

Travel has a way of opening our eyes to what makes other places unique. But sometimes it also reminds us that some things, it seems, are universal: unreliable internet, familiar franchises, unpredictable weather, and an Atlantic Ocean that never quite warms up as much as you'd hope.

NEXT WEEK: Foods of the Iberian Coast