CHOOSING THE RIGHT REGION.

Nova Scotia certainly has an iconic image in the broad public imagination. Lighthouses and lobster boats, gaily decked out teams of oxen, and welcoming strawberry suppers (alt: lobster or bean) sponsored by hundreds of quaint little white churches in communities from one end of the province to the other. 

For the uninitiated, Nova Scotia is often pictured as an island. The confusion is understandable; the province is a time zone east of East, making it seem “detached” from the continent, and it is generally more accessible by ferry or air than by road from the US. Indeed, Nova Scotia would be an island, but for the narrow northerly isthmus crossing the picturesque Tantramar Marshes. But the island image, which lends a sense of unitary integrity to the place, really belies the fact that Nova Scotia’s greatest asset is the rich variations to be found in its distinct regions. Indeed, natives are far more regionally conscious than provincially oriented, and the different realities (some stark and others subtle) between Nova Scotia’s regions eventually come to have established values in the minds of all sojourners and émigrés, as well.

So, in searching for property it just makes sense to get familiar with the regionality of the place(s). To be sure, regional variation is also reflected in the fairly wide spectrum of property values, but appreciating the varied pattern of topographical, cultural and social demographics within Nova Scotia will ultimately have as much to do with you making the right decision as the real estate price tag. 

Where you live within the rich mosaic of Nova Scotian regionality is your choice.  I highly recommend that all prospective buyers self-consciously imagine themselves in each of the various territorial pictures sketched out below…it’s not just about the real estate, it’s about you and what venue suits your personality, lifestyle, and aesthetic eye. If you get the nesting match-up right, the marriage will last forever, and, yes, the romance of the place you’ve chosen will not wear off. I speak from experience, as I, myself, have been spiritually married to one particular region of Nova Scotia for almost forty years. And, though I’ve sojourned and lived in many other fascinating parts of Europe and the Americas (and, I confess, promiscuously entertained an affectionate relationship with a couple other Nova Scotia regions over the years), the twin emotions of passion and security still grip me every time I cross the county line gateway into the region that long ago claimed my soul and will eventually be home to my bones. But, then, that’s just me, where I fit. Here are your choices…what suits you?

The South Shore

If you are of an outgoing and sociable nature, prefer collective entertainments and recreations, and are perhaps inclined to engage in community affairs, Nova Scotia’s South Shore has much to offer you. Of course, every region has its market towns and villages, but the South Shore is flush with tidy small towns (pop: 2,000+/-) and quaint villages (pop: 600+/-), with convivial eateries and pubs, interesting galleries and more than satisfactory shopping.   The people are community focused, as well as open and engaging with visitors and newbies, which is not surprising since most of the South Shore communities are generously populated by come-from-away, permanent and seasonal residents.

It would seem that all Nova Scotians are historically conscious; indeed the province has more community-based heritage museums per capita than any other place in North America. Especially on the South Shore, history expresses itself all the time in the amazing vernacular architecture, in the near cacophony of celebratory community festivals, and even in casual street talk, which is so often woven with a genealogical subtext. If you are a come-from-away it won’t take long for you to discover that you bear kinship with some of the Loyalist (read: colonial Tory) settlers of Liverpool, or that your Boston great grandfather was really a refugee from the economic downturn in the South Shore fishery in the late 19^th century, or that an infamous English pirate curiously bearing your surname left his seed here a couple centuries ago whilst pillaging and ransoming one of the South Shore’s nascent settlements. For sure, if you harbor a past-present tense mindset, you will find the South Shore a most amiable residential venue for endless discovery and fraternity.

Compared to all the other rural regions, the South Shore is a venue of sophisticated perspectives and pleasures. From St. Margaret’s Bay all the way down the coast to Cape Sable beyond historic Shelburne town, the topographical and cultural landscapes have been shaped by prideful human aesthetics. From the enterprise-driven Bluenose schooner of old Lunenburg, through the stylish yachts gliding these days amongst the gem-like Mahone Bay islands, the South Shore is, above all else, a civilized seaside place to live.

Not surprisingly, all that civilization impacts the price tag of real estate. Coastal land values and house prices are significantly higher on the South Shore than anywhere else in rural Nova Scotia, and comparable or even higher than Metro Halifax in many cases. However, the sparsely populated South Shore is hardly the Hamptons or the Cote d’Azur, where civilization comes packed with population density to drive up property value. Real estate prices on the South Shore generally reflect replacement construction values, which is to say that the more sophisticated folks are, the more they invest in their domestic assets, and that sets the value tone of the local real estate market.

The Eastern Shore

On the Eastern Shore nature has provided a quite different coastal palate for humanity to attempt to mold. Indeed, most of the exciting and rugged Eastern Shore landscape has scarcely been touched by human vision or hand. The bold sou’easterly disposition of the coastal headlands invites the full punch of the open Atlantic, with the region’s very sparse population scattered almost randomly along the shores of deep and protected fjords receiving the seasonally raging outflow of the boggy-lakeland interior wilderness. This region speaks directly to the interests and recreations of the outdoorsman and to the soul of those who are inspired by the simple solitude of unspoiled nature.

The Eastern shore is about clam bakes, rather than haut cuisine; hiking, rather than shopping; surfing rather than sailing; and engaging the migrations of fish and fowl, rather than marking time by the ebb and flow of tourists. The Eastern Shore has the province’s longest beaches (Martinique and Lawrencetown), but clam-digging, rather than sunbathing, marks the beach culture here.

With the notable exception of the museum quality settlement of Sherbrook, the Eastern Shore is virtually devoid of quaint villages and historic towns…they would only get in the way of the signature rugged rusticity of the region.  Of course, the highway-centric little towns of Musquodoboit Harbour, Sheet Harbour and Guysborough do offer most of the basic services. While a sense of privacy and isolation is cherished by the inhabitants of the Eastern Shore, the fact is that the region is preserved from “real” isolation by its immediate proximity to Metro Halifax, which is for most of the denizens of this shore even closer than it is for residents of the South Shore.

 As far as property values go, the Eastern Shore is the Province’s bargain bin for spectacular coastal land and islands. And, the room for growing value is much in evidence as real estate prices have risen considerably in the southern fringes of the region, where suburban Dartmouth has stretched out to encompass Porters Lake in what appears to be a steady expansion right up to Musquodoboit Harbour. 

The Bay of Fundy and Annapolis Valley

Such is our preoccupation with the seashore, that one repeatedly hears the truism that in Nova Scotia one is never more than an hour away from salt water.

Inversely, one doesn’t have to go back far from the coast anywhere in Nova Scotia to realize how uninhabited the boreal hinterland of the Province is. Only the far western side of the Province offers a significant bi-topographical (land and sea) opportunity for the property seeker. The outer, coastal, layer is the incomparable Bay of Fundy, with the world’s highest tides…up to 4? feet!   Then, a short ways back, the coastal upland plateau suddenly drops off into the verdant Annapolis Valley with its long history and unique (for Nova Scotia) agrarian culture. This radically contrasting topography is, not surprisingly, mirrored by an interesting marriage of outlooks and personalities of the residents.

From the westerly tip of the Digby Neck to Cape Chignecto in the upper reaches of the Bay of Fundy one finds a distinctive breed of humanity which, like the topography itself, has been shaped by the twice daily gush, then slow disappearance, of the massive bay. The tidal rhythm is primordial and palpable even today. Despite the logistical obstacle of launching and returning boats on such a bizarre waterway, the coastline is dotted with rustic, often quaint, tiny fishing villages, clinging to crevices in the seemingly unbroken red rock cliffs that have been exposed by eons of grinding tides.  

Valley meets Bay in dramatic intersections where the lobster-rich Bay of Fundy waters are heavily tinted by the red clay silt flushing continuously up and down a few long meandering tidal rivers, stealing away the soil of the Annapolis Valley, only to return it with marine enrichment. At these junctures, Valley small town civilization has blossomed for centuries.  Annapolis Royal (North America’s second oldest Euro-settlement), Digby (oyster capital), Wolfville (academic town) and Windsor (town of historic firsts), plus a pretty good selection of picturesque villages offer much to prospective new residents, be they year-round or seasonal.    Unlike the hardened seafarers of the Fundy shore, the farmers and town folk of the Annapolis Valley have luxuriated for centuries on land that will grow damn near anything. Today the symbiosis of this bi-cultural region is best appreciated at a table of Fundy lobster washed down with the world class wines grown in the Annapolis Valley. If this region of dualities is right for you, you will know this is not just a tourism cliché, but a wholly realizable land & sea lifestyle.

Urban Halifax-Dartmouth

Back in the mid-1970s the Provincial Government appointed a “royal” commission to bring in a 25 year municipal development plan for Nova Scotia’s capital city and region. The California émigré political science professor appointed to chair that process was acutely aware that Halifax was a total anachronism, a dilapidated and dissipated garrison town that had outlived the Empire; home to a thoroughly depressed society locked in the oppressive vice of mid-Victorian, hypocritical values, where, for example, there was heavily policed gender apartheid in drinking establishments, but bordellos operating openly on the waterfront. Halifax had been a strategic city with a once celebrated place in history, but it had lost its will to celebrate anything. 

Roll the calendar ahead thirty or so years and we find a Halifax that celebrates everything…with verve! Indeed, urban Halifax offers a virtually endless menu of things to celebrate in the arts, literature, music, architecture, parks and streetscapes, museums and galleries, shopping, cuisine, and the panoply of festivals...but most of all Halifax revels in its own collective liberation, and in its fertile imagination to keep the party going. 

It has been an amazing transformation, and I wish I could say that it was that royal commission and its now aging helmsman that planned Halifax’s route into its current standing as one of the world’s most livable (and enjoyable!) cities. But, alas, the transformation was not so much planned as organic. With the retreat of the garrison superstructure and mentality, the city desperately needed a new income and sought it, hesitantly at first, in tourism. As the years progressed, Haligonians got better and better at generating interesting urban assets and entertainments for the visitors, and along the way Halifax rediscovered its pride and its past; Haligonians changed their mood and got whole-heartedly engaged in the physical amenities and cosmopolitan lifestyles being fashioned for visitors. 

Today, Halifax has plenty for everyone, day or night, irrespective of age, ethnic background, intellectual temperament, religion or sexual orientation. If you are in the market for an amiable urban environment that won’t ever let you get bored, then you will want to explore the property market in Nova Scotia’s capital region. The other good news is that Halifax is a little “big” city (Metropolitan Halifax population, a mere 283,000) and real estate value is not driven by human density as it is in most urban markets. Notably, Halifax was wholly untainted by the pervasive real estate bubble that precipitated the recent global meltdown. You will always find property values in Halifax modest-to-reasonable, when juxtapositioned to residential values in comparable European or North American cities. 

Cape Breton

It is an accident of history that the name Nova Scotia (New Scotland) was tagged onto what is now the mainland of the province. Picturesque as all the other regions of the province are, they are not a facsimile of Scotland. However, Cape Breton Island (formerly ile Royale), which fell belatedly to the British in the protracted Anglo-French imperial competition, is topographically a chip off the Old Scottish block…indeed, in the continental drift geological paradigm, this may be literally true.

From the awesome Highlands pushed up between the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of St. Lawrence, through the dramatic glacial-cut valleys, to the sparkling waters of the lakes, the visage of the landscape here is inescapably Scottish. And it’s not just the look of the place; it’s the whole atmosphere; palpably lonely and soulful, engendering powerful sorts of feelings that inspire thoughtful reflection and introspection, on one hand, and an appetite for rejuvenation in the dram and dance of Celtic fraternal revelry, to reestablish balance. To be sure, the revitalization and promotion of Cape Breton’s Celtic image is a latter-day community development plan, but, as exploitable clichés go, this one is more a case of unleashing a complex and powerful subliminal historic force than manufacturing a marketable image for tourists.

The real estate market on this giant and magical island is a story in itself. Three variables come to bear on the value and pace of the market here. Population, or rather the lack of it…indeed a declining population year after year (presently down to less than 150,000), has left the land strikingly people-barren. Driving that dynamic is the depressed economy resulting from the slow strangulation and final closure of the colliery and associated steel industry. Results: even among the indigenous population there has been, until very recently, no buyers…rendering, in effect, no real estate marketplace. 

It would appear that the economic bottom has been reached with employment and confidence returning, not least because of the inherent survival instincts and cultural vigor of these descendents of the tragic Scottish Clearances. Over the last couple years home sales in the $100K-$200K range have become active (one might even say brisk), notably in the urban surrounds of Sidney-Glace Bay, where 80% of Cape Bretoners are congregated.  However, the reality ceiling of local incomes is evident as movement above that price range tappers off rather quickly. 

What is more, the sell-off of Cape Breton’s vast interior land and waterfront assets has scarcely begun. The reality is that this sector will always be almost wholly dependent on come-from-away buyers. While this may have the ring of “investment” opportunity to it, one need to be aware that distance from the European and American population centers (not to mention the 5 hours to Halifax) has always limited accessibility and interest in the Cape Breton real estate.  Perhaps the “world is getting smaller”, but it is worth going back to the first principle of this piece…choose the region and property that fit your own personality, lifestyle and aesthetic eye. If somewhere in your soul there is a wannabe Laird of a Highland Estate begging to make his/her claim, then by all means look to Cape Breton. Your Lairdship’s tenure is likely to be dynastic, and that should be a joyfully realized aspiration, not an over-optimistic investment mistake. 

The Northumberland Shore

With nearly 5000 miles of marine shoreline (excluding the Bras d’Or salt water lake complex) it is not surprising that Nova Scotia has a lot of beautiful sand beaches. That said, stepping into the surf is likely to be a bracing experience on most beaches except on the rare, on-shore breeze days at the height of summer. The exceptions are the many beaches that are warmed by the currents of the Northumberland Strait. With summer water temperatures consistently well into the 70’s, this region has long been Nova Scotia’s cottage country.

The cottage country image accurately describes the landscape, the social demographics and the real estate market of the Northumberland region. Most of this shoreline, from Tidnish on the New Brunswick border to St George’s Bay facing Cape Breton, is an expansive gentle wash of finely ground sandstone (much of it pleasingly tinted red) posing as the front yard of a similarly expansive string of modest cottages. Family play reigns supreme on this shore; architectural inspiration, or even much interest in horticultural display, is not much in evidence in the region. Of course, there are some high-end developments (notably the golf-focused Fox Harbour project, and the rich historical assets of the region are in ample evidence in the full-service towns of Amherst and Pictou. 

Yarmouth & Acadian Shores

This can justifiably be called the forgotten coast of Nova Scotia, which is a bit of a paradox given the fact that it is the region most accessible from New England. Even today, Yarmouth is the gateway to Nova Scotia for the daily ebb and flow of ferry traffic emanating from what Nova Scotians have long called the Boston states. However, there is a strange tendency of visitors to race through Yarmouth County and the Acadian communities to get to destinations further up the Atlantic or Fundy shores. It is sad, really, because the vitality of the Acadian culture speaks tons about what makes Nova Scotia a special place by any global standard.

In its southern reaches, this region is topographically unique for its low, Delta-like coastline, serrated with meandering tidal inlets, long peninsulas, and a maize of interconnected little islands. The coastal terrain here is ideal for kayakers and it is a bird-watchers paradise. Indeed, savvy New England sportsmen have long regarded this region as their secret hunting grounds, and the tuna-chasing fraternity has long whispered the name Wedgeport with special reverence. 

As a realtor, my counsel to clients will continue to be, buy for personal pleasure, not short term investment. That said, it is worth pointing out that there is an inherent opportunity factor in Yarmouth county real estate. In the world is getting smaller prospectus, this region is on the front line of Nova Scotia accessibility from American metropol, and even relatively modest transportation improvements (say, a direct Boston-Yarmouth ferry) could change things dramatically. What’s more, I would argue that the region is currently undervalued, if only because it has been passed over and ignored by Nova Scotians and foreigners, alike, for so long.