Halifood.

We`ve made it to Halifax where we`re staying with Tyler, a dear friend of mine from high school. So far our time in this beautiful city has consisted of dancing, puddle splashing, and eating. And eating. And eating.

The great butter binge of 2011, as I`ve decided to call it, started with a trip to Two if by Sea, a delightful little cafe across the bridge in Dartmouth. We had croissants. They were huge. And delicious.

Pre butter bomb.

Post.

After this arterial clog-fest, Tyler took us on a mini-tour of Dalhousie University, where he treated us to a free dance class in the school studio (that`s right, he`s a choreographer AND a croissant connaisseur!)

When we left the studio, it was raining. Hard. We decided to make the most of it by splashing through the streets and encouraging drivers to zoom through puddles so we could be showered with oil-soaked gutter runoff. It was fun!

The best part about the rain was that it disguised how horribly sweaty we were after a small amount of physical exertion in the dance studio. 

After drying off, we gorged ourselves on pizza and martinis and ended the night with a gleeful ride on the local teeter-totter.

Today Jono, Staz and I hit up Peggy`s cove, where we marveled at the ability of swarms of tourists to detract from nature`s natural beauty. We also saw some cute dogs, one of which appeared to be driving a Honda golf cart.

Beware the rogue waves!

Tour guide.

A little further down the road we met up with Courtenay, a friend we made in the Yukon who lives in St. Margaret`s bay. She took us to a beautiful beach and showed us her wicked rooftop deck. We made sure to have Courtenay and her sister, Charlotte, sign the van before we left, since they didn`t get a chance to sign it in the Yukon.

When we got back to Tyler`s place, we were greeted by a tantalizing aroma. Tyler-- that beautiful, beautiful man-- made Boeuf Bourguignon. Drool. Tyler`s muse for the evening? BUTTER.

Appetizers. Where's the butter? (Come on, Tyler).

Chocolate. With butter.

Mushrooms. With butter.

Butter. With butter.

Butter-crazed.

Needless to say, the dinner was IN-FREAKIN-CREDIBLE. My arteries are still screaming bloody murder.

Tomorrow we board the 14-hour "vomit comet" to Argentian, Newfoundland. I hope I wake up from my butter-induced food coma in time to catch it.

See you on the rock,
Smelly.