Signs, Signs, Everywhere There’s Signs

So I’ve been noticing all these unusual signs.  I’m sure we have just as many inexplicable notices and signage back home; it’s just that I’m new here and alert to all those quirky travel things.  Not to mention my slightly warped sense of humor puts the most bizarre spin possible on what I see.

The first thing you notice is the highway signs.  Every town along the main highways has a catchphrase on its exit sign (whether it wants it or not).  My two favorite are “Bedford: A Traditional Stopping Place” and “Kentville: Shire Town of Kings.”  The latter always makes me think of hobbits.

I’ve already mentioned the alarming washroom sign encountered the other day.  Here are just a few other puzzlers.


Which way to Yarmouth?

Wonder what today’s special is?


Apparently the prize is meat, not the bingo equipment.

And the Winner Is . . .

Somehow or another the subject of Port Mouton came up.  “Mouton” is French for sheep or mutton.  However, much like the Indiana town of Versailles, the French pronunciation is nowhere in sight (or rather in hearing).  Instead, it’s Port Muh-toon.

There are varying stories of Port Mouton.  The simplest is that Samuel de Champlain named it that when after arriving in the bay in 1604, a sheep fell off his ship and drowned.  However, the always reliable (heh, heh) Wikipedia actually attributes motivation to the sheep, saying that “the village takes its name because a sheep, excited to see land after a long journey, jumped overboard one of the vessels and swam to shore.”  (A happier ending, that.)  Finally, a Nova Scotia place name book states that the sheep was rescued and then eaten by the sailors.  Selecting our favorite variation on the story provided many amusing moments.

Went to the Yarmouth market this morning and visited the Canadian Tire store, which was an interesting experience (Canadian tire money?!?).  Tomorrow it should be more plane rides and hopefully I’ll soon be seeing the “Welcome to Indy” sign.

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