It started out so innocently
It was a Saturday morning in July. I got to the airport in St Louis at 6 am, and the flight took off on time. In Chicago, we pushed back from the gate on time, but then started taxiing all over the field. The pilot said we were delayed because of weather in Newark, but we never sat still, just kept taxiing in circles for an hour. We finally took off and landed in Newark without seeing any bad weather. My friend and travel companion, Ginny, met me for lunch and then we were at the gate waiting, mechanical issues they said. When they said the flight were completely full and asked if some would gate check their carry-ons, Ginny foolishly cooperated. The flight eventually took off an hour late, so there went our first dinner in St. John’s. We got within 30 minutes of St John’s, and the pilot turned around. While any normal person would have landed in Halifax (20 minutes away) we headed back to Newark (2 hours away). Obviously our pilot did not work for normal people. Of course we did not have enough fuel to get back to Newark so we stopped in Boston for a few hours. Back in Newark it was almost midnight. The flight attendant said talk to the gate agent about what was next. The guy leaning on the desk at the gate was talking on his cell phone but pointed us toward the customer service station several gates away. There we were met with a 2 hour line. I called United and after being on hold for an hour I finally got thru and discovered that they had scheduled a special 6 am flight for the next day.
We went to Ginny’s place and didn’t sleep for 3 hours. BTW the cab from the airport charged double for some unknown reason. We were back at the airport before 5am Sunday. The flight was delayed, shocking, so we had breakfast. First time I ever saw brown hollandaise sauce, or eggs Florentine without spinach. 7 o’clock delayed, 8 o’clock delayed, 9:30 delayed. About this time we realized the pilot had never shown up, he must have known something. At 11 they canceled the flight and everybody dashed for customer service. They rebooked Ginny and I thru Toronto, on separate flights. Landing in Toronto, there was lightning (somewhere in North America) so we sat on the tarmac for an hour. Of course no luggage came with us. The only bright spot was the bar by the new gate. Ginny’s flight was late but it did not matter because, of course the next flight was delayed too, again shocking.
By this time many of us were starting to bond in our communal misery. We met Anne and Arne who had been traveling from Stavanger Norway. Anne was born in Twillingate, Newfoundland, but she moved to Norway and married Arne. They explained that the long runway in St John’s was being rebuilt this summer, so only small planes could land when the weather was bad (i.e. most of the time). Anne also gave us loads of local information which we ultimately used.
We landed in St. John’s at 2am Monday. No luggage of course, no car rental companies were open of course, and the taxi driver talked a blue streak, of course.
St John’s
The Franklin Hotel was really just a few rooms above a bar and restaurant. There was no elevator but we had no luggage so that was fine. The beds were comfortable, but at that hour asphalt would have been too. However, the mini bar fridge had a neon light that lit up the whole two rooms. Even a towel only dimmed it. After 5 or so hours hunger got us up. While there was a restaurant downstairs, they didn’t do breakfast, or even coffee. They did point us to the Bagel Café.
The sign on the door said lobster and eggs for breakfast. $12, what a way to start!
The day was overcast and misty, but we had to go back to the airport to file lost luggage claims and get our car. So instead of 2 full days we had to see everything in ½ a day. Whale watching was out, could not see anything anyway. The view from Signal Hill would have been spectacular on a sunny day.
Quidi Vidi is a darling little harbor complete with a brewery that makes beer out of water from icebergs. Unfortunately we did not have time to sit and drink, thanks to our compressed schedule. So, cloudy and overcast, we started out driving down the coast. We drove past Bulls Harbour, where the best whale watching would have been if there was any chance of seeing them thru the gloom. Eventually we got to Ferrytown and an interesting local Museum. Ferrytown grew into the Avalon community, the first permanent settlement in Newfoundland. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avalon_Peninsula
Back in St John’s it was again raining. On Mondays most of the Avant Gard restaurants were closed, but we did get a reservation at Chinched Bistro. It was tiny, but with an interesting cocktail list. We started out with a local sturgeon and lobster corn dog with sturgeon caviar. The main course was cod loin wrapped in a potato string. It was incredibly moist and memorable. We told the waitress (and co-owner) that they could make it in NYC. She said they had been invited to cook at the James Beard house in NYC!
When we got up the next morning it was raining. I failed to feed the parking meter in time so we naturally got a ticket. Then back to the airport to look for our luggage. Mine was there but Ginny’s was not, more delay. So off to Sears to buy a few things for Ginny. When she asked the sales girl if they had any sweaters (it was 47 degrees that day) she was told, “It’s July!”
On to Trinity
We headed up the Trans-Canada highway and stopped at a visitor’s center for maps and suggestions of which they had many of both. We stopped in Clarenville to look for a pharmacy so Ginny wouldn’t die without her medication, which was in her luggage. Fortunately we stumbled upon a pharmacist who was American. He had fallen in love with the area and married a local girl. He couldn’t sell her anything but could give her a 5 day supply. Eventually we arrived in Trinity (population ~400). It was darling, our B&B was darling, and the darling local museums were closing just as we arrived. We wandered around taking pictures and chatting with the local shop owners. Since lunch was late I just had the cod tongue appetizer and a glass of wine for dinner. With some trepidation, we went to the local theater. The play was “Eye of the Gull.” Locally written, staged, and acted. It was excellent! Sort of a riff on “Like Water for Chocolate.” A very pleasant ending to a difficult day.
Next Stop Twillingate
The next morning, we started driving along the back roads. The nice lady at the visitor’s center had said the road to the shore route was very pretty. Since it was cold and raining we elected to take it, the long way to Twillingate. The lady was right, it was pretty,,,,,, pretty boring. We stopped for lunch at a diner in Brookfield and I ordered turkey soup. That turkey had 4 hooves I think, but it was good.
Many miles of driving thru pine woods and overcast skies, we came to the New World islands. We drove up across several causeways and as we pulled into Twillingate, the sun came out. This was ice berg alley, the best place to see ice bergs! Our B&B turned out to be right on the water. We took the boat with Cecil and Burt, however, the last ice berg of the season passed the week before. It was a 2 hour cruise, pleasant enough with interesting, rocky islets.
Anne (our new friend from Norway) had recommended a great, but out of the way, seafood place. A little asking around got us a consensus and directions to Sansome’s in Hillgrade. It was the annual Twillingate festival and the town was jumping. We hit some shops and took some pictures and started looking for the restaurant. After a few wrong turns, we arrived at a small place out on the dock. Lobster pots were boiling and a fisherman was just bringing in a 21 kilo cod.
They had a funky folk band playing music that was so old Ginny and I both knew the words. I especially liked the wash board tie on one of them. It seemed to be all locals and we joined a young couple at a long table. The lobster dinner (1 ½ lbs) was $25 and cooked perfectly. Along with some wine and song it was to perfect end to the day. We didn’t make it to the local folk concert.
And on To Rocky Harbour
The morning of course brought rain. At breakfast we talked to a couple who came to the festival every year to represent a Newfoundland artist in the arts and crafts show. We kept talking hoping the rain would stop, but no such luck, so we hit the road. Now I realized why I should have put gas in the car the previous night. The gas stations did not have canopies. It was 47 degrees and pouring. We were on empty. I got soaked.
It was a five hour drive to Rocky Harbour so we headed out. In addition to the rain, the wind was blowing fiercely and the car was rocking. We stopped in Windsor for lunch at a Don Cherry’s sports bar. He was a famous Boston hockey player. The staff was very nice, I ordered turkey soup, and again I think the turkey had 4 hooves, but it was warm and tasty. Strange birds on this island, especially in the soup.
As we approached Deer Lake, the rain let up a bit so we decided to switch drivers again. As we did so in the parking lot of the Newfoundland Insectarium, we saw a sign across the street for local raspberries. When we pulled up, it looked like strawberries. We said to the girl “in our country we call these strawberries.” She said she did too, but she did not want to go out in the rain to change the sign.
Finally we pulled into Rocky Harbour. I bought a fleece jacket as we were going into the Gros Morne national park the next day. We had another great lobster dinner at Fisherman’s Landing. When we got back to the motel a local band was playing. One song started out; “When its 40 below and you have nothing to do, come down to Teddy’s bar.” Everyone was singing, dancing with mop heads, and playing homemade instruments. I got to play a tambourine made out of plywood and bottle caps.
Newfie dance partner.
The next morning was partly cloudy. We started out driving around town and then stopped at the Lobster Cove historic lighthouse. The last light keeper, who was born in the house and lived there for 63 years, was given two weeks’ notice to leave when the government decided to shut it down. Government gratitude is the same the world over. After visiting the local tourist shops and driving thru Norris Point, we headed to Western Brook Pond. This is a fiord carved out by the glaciers like in Norway. However, some of the land by the coast rebounded after the glaciers melted, and now the fiord has become a fresh water lake. We had a lovely 2 hour cruise (with a 3km hike at each end). All that hiking and cruising made us hungry for, what else, another lobster dinner. Western Brook Pond fiord
Flower’s Cove
Another morning brought partly cloudy skies. We started driving north. Our first stop was Arches Provincial Park. A photogenic piece of coastal geology.
Eventually we arrived in Port aux Choix. This area has been occupied for over 4500 years. The museum was great, but the hike to the actual excavation sites was 7km one way and it was cold, windy and looked like it could rain any minute, so we settled on watching the film about the archeological. Fortunately Port au Choix is known for their cold water shrimp and it was lunch time.
We finally rolled into Flower’s Cove (pop 230) midafternoon. After checking into our B&B we went to see the 3 sights. The light house, which is now privately owned, the covered bridge, and the Thrombolites. Thrombolites are single cell organisms that thrived from 3.5 billion to 650 million years ago. They clump up into these weird lumps and are only found here and in some place in Australia.
The one restaurant afforded us a chance to observe the local populace in as they ordered take out. The waitress seemed a bit baffled at having to serve strangers. Beer in particular seemed to give her trouble. I don’t remember what I had, but it was fried and stayed with me for quite a while. By the time we finished our 2nd beer, the gas station was closed so we went back to the French Island B&B. They had just brought in a couple of buckets full of capelin, which are tiny fish that they fry up like sardines. They were going to freeze them for the winter.
For breakfast Maggie, our hostess had a menu with 8 choices. She told us all about Flower’s Cove and what is was like before the road was put in in the sixties. You had to be really self-sufficient. Again we started driving with overcast skies. The gas station was not open on Sunday. We were quite low on fuel. Eventually I will learn not to put filling up off to another day!
L’Anse aux Meadows
As we drove thru a multitude of small places all named somebody Cove, we kept seeing immense wood piles. It turned out that every local family got a permit for 7 full cords (4x4x8) of wood per year, but it takes hundreds of years for the trees to grow back. We finally pulled into St Anthony, on fumes. We were told we would for sure see icebergs here. The fog was so thick we could not see the water. So we headed up to the Northern most point. This is where Leif Erickson had created a settlement. I have been fascinated by Leif’s story since I was little. The sun came out, we had a great tour, and we saw an iceberg. Of course they said it was only a bergette .
There was not a lot to see of the excavations, but the naturalist who gave the tour was very interesting. There was a recreation of the settlement with a few period costumed actors. Surprisingly the best restaurant outside of St John’s was close by, The Norseman. They had fresh snow crab, yum!
We headed back south. We took the longer, more desolate, route which was touted as one of the most active moose areas. Unfortunately moose are mostly nocturnal and all we saw was peat bogs. The only place I could get a reservation was the Torrent River Inn in Hawks Bay. It looked okay on the web. It was clean. The restaurant was empty at 7pm but all the tables had just been used, and not cleared. It was some kind of pizza chain. The only local thing they had was seafood chowder. It was delicious but they only served ½ a bowl. When I asked for another half they looked at me like I was from another planet. A pleasant walk and early to bed.
Stephenville, the one horse town whose horse died of boredom
We rose early both to flee Torrent River and in anticipation of the crafts and other things to do in Stephenville. An hour’s drive brought us back to Rocky Harbour for breakfast of eggs and moose sausage at Fisherman’s Landing. Leaving Rocky Harbour, we had a brief episode of sunshine and a glimpse of the breathtaking beauty of this land. It was not to last. We stopped outside of Deer Lake at the stand with the wonderful raspberries (strawberries) but while the stand opened at 10 there would be no berries until 11. Such is life.
A brief exit to Corner Brook proved the museum of the Newfoundland constabulary, was closed too. The view from the Captain Cook monument was good considering the cloud cover. We were anxious to get to Stephenville. Arriving just afternoon at the Dream Catcher Lodge, the place called the best in town by the tour books. Ok it IS a small town (pop 8000). Our room was not ready, so we asked the clerk what there was to see and do in Stephenville. We got a quizzical look. We asked for a map. No such luck. We asked about the local theater festival that was on all the billboards. A blank look came back. The maintenance man piped up and told us about the most beautiful hiking trail ever
Off we went to Port au Port. Stopping at the visitors center 2 very young people were nicely ignorant of the area. A restaurant on the water? No, but there was one in the middle of the St George peninsula. The drive along the peninsula was nice; with a little sunshine it would have been spectacular. Eventually we found Oliver’s. The chowder and beer were very good. The amount of fried food, and French fries (covered in gravy and cheese curds) consumed by the other patrons was stupendous.
We were still anxious to see the shopping in Stephenville so we headed back. We stopped at the alpaca farm. The alpacas had just been shorn. Have you ever seen an alpaca shiver? It was pitiful, but it was JULY! We went into the gift shop and the first thing we saw were acrylic sweaters knitted by local knitters. I tuned out the rest of the shop.
Next stop was the Gravely trail. It started right across the street from the Upper Level gift shop, which sported a sign “We have all your Lumber.” We left that one alone. The trail started just on the west side of the rocky isthmus that connects the St George peninsula to the main land. Comfortingly, the sign said it had washed out in 1951. The trail (7 km round trip) was truly spectacular. Pristine beaches, fabulous rock formations. Benches well placed for rest and contemplation of nature’s beauty. Since we were still looking forward to the craft stores in Stephenville, we turned back early.
Finally we were driving thru Stephenville. Lots of auto part stores, a dumpy grocery, a pharmacy, a resale shop. Then the abandoned American air force base (they had the right idea). The closed cultural arts center (no theater on Mondays). “Look in the guide book for the address of the craft store.” Ok, there is the address; it is now a cheap clothing outlet. We need a drink. Back to the “lodge”.
The clerk is at the desk when we walk in. We asked for a good seafood restaurant. She waves her hand at a room with Formica tables, mismatched chairs and linoleum flooring. We ask for the best restaurant in town. A quizzical look, a pause, and “all the restaurants serve fish.” Again the maintenance man says, “For fish this is the best place.” Ok, up to the room, check email, try to research restaurants in Stephenville. The McDonalds gets 3 ½ stars from Google. Meanwhile, naturally, it starts to rain, again. 7:30 we go down to dinner, the restaurant is closed, and empty. We asked why and get a shrug. We ask about another place and someone, not the clerk, says Haverty’s but adds that they are probably closed at that hour too (remember it is still only 7:30pm)
OK, let’s try Sun Luck, Trip Advisor recommended it. I ordered almond scallop and shrimp Har Ding. It came covered in cashews. The waitress (and part owner) was a hoot, the food good and the beer cold. Back to the Dream Catcher for evening, the front desk was unoccupied.
The Ferries
Rising early to a cold drizzly dawn, we headed out, skipping breakfast at Tim Horton’s. There were interesting construction detours down thru the creek bed and such, but we made good time to Channel Port aux Basque. We stopped at the Harbour View restaurant for breakfast. The view of the fog was unbeatable. Since it was our last stop in Newfoundland, I had Newfie steak (fried Bologna) with my eggs. It stayed with me for quite a while.
The ferry crossing to Nova Scotia was billed as 6-8 hours. I booked the 11am sailing instead of the night sailing in hopes of a pleasant day at sea. I reserved prime seats at the front of the ferry, which actually turned out to be the back, and the view thru the fog and rain of the semis on the top deck was there to see. We got to North Sidney, Nova Scotia a bit early and then sat dead in the water. Eventually word filtered back that there was another ferry sitting at our dock and we had to wait for it to sail. Not much different from arriving early in a plane.
When we finally docked and drove off, we headed for the Lobster Pound & More. It got a 5 star rating on Google primarily for banning toddlers. It was closed on Tuesday. So we headed toward our scheduled motel. Shortly after leaving North Sidney we saw a sign for lobster dinner at exit 11 (St. Ann’s). 25 miles later we pulled off and had a lovely dinner at the Lobster Galley overlooking the water. It was just getting dark as we pulled back on to the Trans-Canada Highway, and, surprise, it started to rain. No actually it started pouring. 64 miles in the dark, 2 lane road, center stripe barely there, and visibility almost zero. This was as white knuckle as it gets. Both of us were completely stressed when we arrived in Port Hastings. Fortunately the motel was the nicest of the trip.
The next morning, after a breakfast of eggs Bennie, we head off to the PEI ferry at Caribou. Arriving a bit early we stopped and wandered around the quaint village of Pictou. Fortunately we had a reservation on the ferry and wound up in the first row of the 11:15 ferry. After a pleasant, but chilly, 75 minute trip, we were the first off on PEI, and then the sun came out! We started looking for lunch, HA. It was pretty farm country but no place to eat. We did stop at a farm stand for strawberries, cherries, plums, and a box of freshly shelled peas. It had been so long without a green vegetable, that I just ate the peas out of the box.
Charlottetown PEI
We pulled up to the Heritage Harbour House n Charlottetown a bit before 2. It was the nicest place of the whole trip. The first question we had was “Can we stay 2 nights?” We dumped our stuff in the room and started walking. First order of business was lunch. The Pilot House had oysters, a dozen each, split a lobster BLT, and a drink. Next we wandered, shopped, took a nap. As evening came we headed out to see “Bitter Girl,” the musical. It was cabaret show about the down side of breaking up. It was very fun. A lovely day with sun, walking, oysters, theater; what’s not to like.
Thursday brought more sun. After breakfast we started walking, no car today. We walked down the water front, did a bit of shopping. We walked up Great George Street, visiting St. Dunstan’s basilica. Down Victoria Lane we stopped for coffee, then back to buy tickets for the evening show of “Alice thru the Looking Glass.” The gallery at the PEI center for the arts had a great exhibit that helped understand the birth if Canada as a nation and how the various provinces joined. Then we sat outside to see a presentation of “We are Canadian.” It was a fascinating celebration of Canada’s diversity. We had young white kids in Chinese pajamas, young white kids in Jamaican costumes, young white kinds in Greek costumes, young white kids in costumes I could not recognize. It was very diverse costuming.
All that young singing and dancing made us hungry, so we went down to the wharf for lunch. The special was lobster dinner for 2: 3 pounds of mussels, 2 two pound lobsters, two sides, and a liter of wine for $86. We could not eat that much but still put down a couple of lobsters. That called for a nap. Since we had a late lunch we went to the Olde Dublin Pub for $1 oysters before the play. I was afraid they would dumb down the show for kids. It was very kid friendly, but Lewis Carroll’s biting satire was still there if you paid attention.
The Finish
Friday we woke up to more rain. We decided to take the ferry back to Nova Scotia. With the wait time, it took as long as the bridge, but with less time behind the wheel. We made good time to Turo where we hoped to see the tidal bore coming in. After several wrong turns looking for the visitor’s center, we found ourselves headed out of town, so we decided to go to the interpretive center by Maitland. We got there 20 minutes after the tidal bore had passed. The tide coming in was a fast moving muddy mess. We did learn that the average tide was 17 meters and the record was 21 meters. We started looking for lunch. Maitland had no commercial establishments. Neither did any of the miniscule burgs we went thru. After checking into our motel at the airport, we went to the Halifax waterfront. There was a busker’s festival going on.
Shortly thereafter Ginny’s friend arrived to take us to a special place to eat, Peggy’s Cove. We didn’t have the heart to tell her we had both been there before. Another hour and a half drive brought us to the cutest, most fogged in harbour in Nova Scotia. We had one last lobster dinner.
Other than getting up at 3:30 to make a 5:30am flight, the trip home was completely uneventful.