Turns out Nova Scotia is a beautiful place even when you’re not high.

I love boats. But I get seasick. In my excitement to experience boats, I often forget about the seasickness until I’m on deck, heading out to sea. Then my stomach begins to roil. I blame this nautical amnesia for the fix I found myself in many years ago taking a ferry from Bar Harbor, Maine to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. I was so queasy I had forgotten I was crossing a border into another country, and that meant a customs inspection. When we disembarked, an officer pulled me out of line and asked if I was bringing any illegal substances into Canada. I was bringing illegal substances into Canada. Said substance was right in my jacket pocket. That’s how stupid I was. I shook my head dumbly. I was taken into another room, where my minute amount of contraband was instantly discovered. Threats (theirs) ensued, followed by tears (mine). Ultimately Mother Canada let me slide. Turns out Nova Scotia is a beautiful place even when you’re not high.

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