Twice a day, the Bay of Fundy pulls off a trick that no other place on Earth quite matches. The tide here rises and falls by up to about sixteen metres, the highest in the world, and at Hopewell Cape the water drains away to reveal a floor of red mud and a set of tall sea stacks that locals call the flowerpot rocks. Their bases are worn narrow by the waves and their tops are crowned with spruce trees, so they look like giant planters. At low tide you can walk among them on the ocean floor; at high tide, you can paddle a kayak around their tops.
The geology is a story of red sandstone and conglomerate, laid down in ancient river systems and then sculpted by tide and frost over thousands of years. Every day the sea carves a little more, and the rocks change shape slowly, with occasional collapses. The mud is slippery and the tide returns quickly, so pay attention to the posted tide times and the staff, and keep an eye on the time. The park is open in the warmer months, from mid-May to mid-October, with an entry fee, and tide tables decide when to come.
As the end of the Fundy Coastal Drive, this is the culmination of a ride along a quiet coast. The road runs through small fishing villages, covered bridges, tidal flats and forest, and has fair pavement with gentle bends. Fog, which arrives often, can turn the view to grey, but it adds to the mood. The Bay of Fundy lies at the heart of the region's identity, and you will see harbours where boats sit on dry mud at low water and float again six hours later.
Practicalities are not generous. The nearest towns, Sackville and Amherst in Nova Scotia, are twenty to thirty kilometres off, and Moncton lies not far to the north, so fill the tank before you come. There is a restaurant at the park, and small cafés nearby sell seafood chowder and lobster rolls. Temperatures are cool even in summer, and the wind off the bay can be sharp, so bring a layer. Plan your day around the tide, and you will have one of the great natural shows of the continent.