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From: globus Category: Consumer Date: 06 May 2009 Time: 10:59 AM Review: Hmm. We find ourself in the rain soaked harbour town (city?) of Halifax. In times of yore scots,anglos, and irish folk came here to escape the yolk, yoke, of grinding oppresive mother country. interesting, sort of, that they didn't stay at all loyal and soon founded a bright new land of canada, nations are not made of ethnic loyalty, really. Ouddd (that's how they say out) here the cars stop for you to cross the road and the pace of life is slowwwer. Dinner might be at 6pm, and the students finish college in May to enjoy the sun light after a long winter. It reminds one of the channel islands in that there are boats and that its old fashioned but jerseys are not worn, more white socks and parkas. At the lord nelson pub, which is in a fancyish hotel, you eat the ubiquitous Halifax fish and chips, and bangers and mash (sic) are available too. This town is like a unholy combo of english themed pub and the great satan, america. Tap water is on tap from the american style waitresstrons. The fish is ye olde haddock, once sold in merry england before it emigrated to the new world, the chips are extremely tasty hand made genuine potato french fries with some sign of skins indicating their potato origins. The sausage on my new friend Jim's plate looks suspiciously firm and inauthentic, maybe a touch of hot dog has been cross-bred into the banger. Jim seems pleased and his carnivorousness is a nice touch in someone you might expect to be an arty vegetarian. Fortified by clean tap water on ice, we walk out into the drizzle and light of 8pm in Halifax. 12 bucks for fish and chips doesn't seem that cheap, it's about London prices, but perhaps the mighty pound is letting us down under Brown's borrowing regime, and soon we will face an invasion of Canadiennes looking for bargains and our genuine fake irish pubs for a cheap pint in blighted blighty. They will feel at home, although our sarcasm and aggresion may remind them why they left.