We went for a drive the other day - ended up in Barrington and Shelburne, two towns in a part of the province I don't visit a lot. They're both lovely, although differences are clear - Barrington (and the surrounding area) is mainly fishing-based, and Shelburne trades on its historical status while trying not to reel from the loss of the Air Force base nearby.
Shelburne Harbour is beautiful. Lots of museums, artisans plying their craft from days gone by, and a general air of stepping back in time.
We rounded the corner (my head full of must shoot that! Want to take a picture there!) and saw it.
Amistad. La Amistad.
And suddenly I was trying to explain to my son what a slave ship was - how it happened, before, but musn't happen again, how this lovely ship reminded us not to let history repeat itself, how people all over the world needed a reminder sometimes that things have not always been so easy.
Cass scrunched up his face, thinking hard. Then, his voice alternately bewildered and outraged: 'They were slaves - because of the colour of their skin? Why?'
I paused, thinking. The very-Afrikaans man aboard the Amistad gave me a small smile.
'I hear that a lot with the younger kids.' he said. 'It gives me hope.'