With a shorter drive back to Truro on the schedule, we’d been given permission for a late check‑out, which meant we could squeeze in one more walk before hitching up. Georgie, deploying her uncanny hike‑finding instincts, picked out a waterfall trail only half an hour away: Uisge Ban Falls. The drive there was another dose of Nova Scotia charm—narrow, winding roads threading through dense forest.
The walk itself was easygoing. Reviews mentioned a “little scramble” near the end, and that turned out to be true, though it was more playful than challenging. The trail wandered through a lush, green forest with a tall canopy, following a stream that burbled over rocks and eventually led us to a small bridge crossing to the opposite bank. The final scramble was mild, and the reward was excellent: a two‑tiered waterfall dropping into the pool right where we stood. We spent a while taking photos, soaking in the cool mist, then ambled back to the truck. A perfect way to start the day before heading toward Truro.
We’ve long been fans of The Vinyl Cafe as read by Stuart McLean (STUART MCLEAN — The Vinyl Cafe), whose fictional character Dave hails from Little Narrow, Cape Breton. As it happens, Little Narrows is a real place—and visiting it required only a tiny detour. A no‑brainer. Even better, crossing at Little Narrows involves a short cable ferry ride. Ten minutes, but it adds a bit of whimsy to the journey. The town itself is tiny, dotted with tidy houses overlooking the lake.
We continued up to Grand Narrows for lunch at a lakeside café. The drive was lovely, though the road surface was in rough shape. The houses were quaint, the land rolled gently, and the lake kept appearing between the trees. Grand Narrows was just as scenic as Little Narrows, with a bridge connecting it to the far shore and an old railway bridge running parallel—clearly long retired. As we approached, the barriers dropped and the bridge opened to let two sailboats pass. The café sat right at the foot of the bridge, tucked beside the lake, and we ate while watching boats drift by to the sound of live Celtic music.
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