Always a sea-lover, I delight in this harbour city, where I can see views of different waters on each bus-ride: the Bedford Basin, the Arm, fingers of the ocean creeping up in the land, and the many, many lakes with funny names like Chocolate Lake which dot the city, and all leading to the magnificent Atlantic Ocean.
I am no veteran travellor, I have not even ever seen the Pacific, and yet I take pleasure in comparing the different sorts of blue of the waters that I have seen. The first sea I can remember is the North Sea surrounding Britain, a deep chilly grey, as one would expect. Then back to Iran, where I became acquainted with the Caspian sea, the place of my most wonderful childhood seaside memories, and I remember being puzzled about its colour- the Caspian is always grey too, a lighter grey, and I wonder why it does not reflect the blue above.
The straits of Hormoz, by Bandar Abbas in the south is a deep deep shining blue which hurts the eyes, a very blue blue. And then the Persian Gulf, gently lapping the white sands of Kish island: a Martian transparent light green-blue colour which blows the mind.
The Mediterranean and the bay of Antalya: a deep navy blue and gold, with greeny undertones, studded with heavy green and grey rocks.
And for now, my voyage comes to rest by the Atlantic, steely blue, with edgings and beddings of pure black, and ripples of silver. No green or gold on this serious water, not even on balmy July days. And no grey: just a satin expanse of blue with black undertones. Lots and lots of white sails, ships and boats. And in many places, trees and greenery coming right up to the water’s edge.
Yes. Halifax will do me nicely.
