Vacation in Canada, eh? 8: Lunenburg, Nova Scotia
In Lunenburg, the centuries seem to melt into one another.

We have good reasons to choose Canadian vacation destinations these days. And we have great destinations to visit – especially if you’re interested in architecture. This is one of a series of blogs meant to shine a light on some of our built treasures.
By Peter Coffman
Have you ever experienced a ‘time slip’? That’s when you step into a place – could be a streetscape, or a building interior, even your own home – and suddenly realize that you’re no longer in the year you thought you were in. The streets are filled with horses and carts, the women wear petticoats, rooms are lit by gaslight and candles. It’s a common trope of paranormal stories.
Visiting Lunenburg is the closest I’ve come to experiencing a time slip. I walk around its quiet streets at night – especially away from tourist season – and I have trouble remembering if I’m in the 18th, 19th, 20th or 21st century.

It’s the seagull who gets the best view of the 18th-century town. From above, you can still see the perfectly preserved colonial town plan, laid out when the town was founded in 1753. The British had a vision for what a colonial town should be: a perfect grid with a civic square in the middle. It’s a ruthlessly efficient instrument of control, completely oblivious to the specifics of the site. But that’s colonialism for you.
As we walk those perfectly aligned streets, we get a sense of what the Georgian town looked and felt like. As we reach the Lennox Tavern, we drift seamlessly between the late 18th and the early 19th centuries. For most of its more than 200 years, the Lennox has offered food, drink, and a place to lay your head. The building itself is simple, practical, and dignified. Like the Georgian town that built it.

I walk north-west for less than five minutes, and I find I’ve traveled about a hundred years. Lunenburg Academy, designed by architect H.H. Mott and built 1894-95, proudly proclaims the value of public education. The building is bold, confident, optimistic, and exuberant. Like the Victorian town that built it.

That exuberance isn’t restricted to big public buildings. You can spend hours, even days, walking the Victorian streets and drinking in the details. We have architectural terms for all of those bits: ‘brackets’, ‘lintels’ ‘pediments’, yada yada yada. But all we really need to do is look, and marvel at what a person with vision and a jigsaw can bring to the world.




As we drift into the 20th century, we drift toward the waterfront. The sea had long been the front door and the workplace of Lunenburg, and the bustle of the early 1900s has left its mark. Boats had to be built, and be outfitted. Fish had to be processed. And, for the unlucky ones, the ultimate price had to be paid.




What if we awaken from the dream and find ourselves in the 21st century? We find a town full of tourists (but little other industry), beautiful buildings, great seafood – and huge challenges. The whole of the Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Keeping that status is a priority. But there’s a housing shortage. Heritage buildings need maintenance. Maintenance needs money, lots of it. Lunenburg has to evolve to survive, but it also has to stay the same – whatever that means.

When it all becomes a bit daunting, I start walking north again, away from the harbour, into the quiet streets where the tourists thin out and the air is thick with ghosts. And I blissfully forget what century I’m in.
Peter Coffman, History & Theory of Architecture program
peter.coffman@carleton.ca
@petercoffman.bsky.social