Monday, October 09, 2017

Well, this could be an interesting day. The weather is supposed to clear up overnight.

I could use another couple of days of sunshine.

And here is what yesterday looks like at six this morning. I mean, at six this morning, we can see the tail-end of yesterday’s rain getting ready to soak The Atlantic Ocean while Wednesday’s showers creep in from Toronto.

I had thought of spending a day exploring each peninsula, but I rather suspect I can cover the Baie Verte peninsula tomorrow morning and the Twillingate and Musgrave Harbour peninsulas in the afternoon. That squeezes two days schedule into one.

On this trip, remember, I am covering distance and area with only an occasional venture into towns.

For example, every town named in this map is accessible by road, but almost all of them will not boast an eating place, unless it is a heated-sandwich nook in the General-Store-With-Gas-Pumps style. Baie Verte appears to have half a dozen eateries, but that includes Mary Brown’s which is, let’s be honest, just chicken and fries and wraps. Although Friday’s Fries in Harbour Breton were superb.

I will explore the towns of La Scie (five minutes), Baie Verte (five minutes) and Fleur de Lys (five minutes), and maybe Seal Cove, and that will suffice for a sampling of small town life on this peninsula. Then Twillingate and Mutford’s Cove, which can include a drive through Lewisporte and the loop from Gander to Gambo clockwise, and that will be the two peninsulas.

And bear in mind that this is a Public Holiday in the off-season, so the arts-and-crafts traps will probably be closed. Stare at the shuttered shops and drive on, that’s my theory.

And don’t even think about libraries!

I have a good chance of ending up tonight in Bonavista!

I have not found a local B&B to answer the phone, so perhaps I will just dawdle along and check into a Gander or Gambo hotel in the evening.

La Scie is marked with Google Maps pink location pin. I have circled Clarenville where I began my tour, and I have penciled the area I think I can cover in one day, today.

We shall see what we shall see, to quote The Immortal Lucia .

La Scie

Well, as usual I am awake early, before sunrise at any rate. I make some coffee and step onto the back patio to check the weather.

It is BALMY! Feels like Singapore in the middle of the night. Later I see that it is 16c as I start the car at around 8:30.

In the meantime here are two photos of La Scie while it is still dark.

This is more like it! I have typed up some notes, studied some maps ...

... and The Sun is stretching its arms, too.

Look at all the new-looking houses. Not a wreck amongst them. Later on today I probed a bit more and got some answers.

Here is the view of the back of the five-bedroom beautifully finished house that I had all to myself last night. The owners sleep in another house somewhere else in town

Looking a little more to the left.

Looking further to the left.

There is a fully-equipped kitchen capable of hosting breakfast to ten or twenty residents. I dithered a bit in trying to work out the best device to attack the tea problem last night and the coffee situation in the morning.

Electric jug, pod maker, drip maker, or tea-pot with a modified Grecian method?

I make a little cruise of town before I go. I was looking for the library, but it appears to have disappeared.

My first stop was to the gas station/general store to say goodbye to the B&B owners. My hostess was not there, but a crew of a half-dozen men were starting the day with a get-together. “I know that not one of you is called Tina” I offered by way of introduction. Guffaws, and then “But the other half is right behind you”, so I turned, shook hands, gave thanks and started the day’s wanderings.

There is an old fish-processing plant. It looks abandoned, but it is hard to tell with fish plants. The money is on the inside.

Another view of the harbour.

Then it is Ho! For the narrow road, and on to Baie Verte.

I stop by a culvert that drains this lake.

The culvert pipe is a good twelve feet by my estimate.

And here is the feed channel.

The sun’s rays hit the trees. Another glorious day with fall colours everywhere.

Baie Verte

I stop in Baie Verte and although the lot is grey and gritty, the sun rising across the water is pretty.

So, I found the library.

It is closed, this being Thanksgiving Day. But note this: had I been a week later, or a week earlier, it would have been closed.

Why am I destined never to visit a library when I travel? Is it something I said?

See anything special about this building?

Here’s a clue: What is different about the church building next door (apart from the fact that it is sinking into the ground)?

Here’s another clue: Check out the RCMP building on the other side.

That’s right! The library is a BRICK building, very rare outside of St John’s in my limited experience.

Fleur de Lys

I drove into town and saw two fellows on the steps of the store. “You guys got any coffee?” I called from the car. “Sure!”. “I’ll be back”.

I have learned that Newfoundlanders willingly engage in conversation. As one of them told me, “Any stranger makes a nice change from everybody we see all the time everyday in these outposts”, and it pays to have a little look at the town to be able to fend off the questions of “Have you seen the ...”

This is Shelley’s island, or something.

The little red dunny has a flap that opens out directly into the Atlantic Ocean. No! Say it isn’t so!

Nice bright colour, but.

In the next lot is a well-established caravan, and the storm-wrecked remnants of a boat house. Beyond that.

I didn’t stop to see if this was a private fiefdom or a public memorial park.

I have solved some of the mysteries of treeless spaces. In this case it is neither fire nor clear-cut logging but genuine granite rock that is the cause of the treeless spaces.

I was told about this trail. It is a short trail, only 0.8Km. Newfoundland communities are riddled with trails.

Note that this trail is rated “easy”.

Note the stairs disappearing up and out of sight.

For eight-tenths of a kilometre?

I got back into the car.

Here is the Dorset Soapstone Quarry centre

And the write-ups in case you were too lazy to click on the link.

Now, note the beautifully painted blue railings. Typical of the detail and cleanliness of the island.

So. Back to the store for a coffee, which is self-served from a drip-feed maker on the counter. Help yourself.

But first an urgent necessity: “Do you have washrooms?”, Yes, says Bob, and leads the way. Into the washroom. Is he going to stand there and wait with me? No. He will turn on the light, whose switch is well away from the door and, I presume, check everything else. Then he bows aside and leaves me alone in the room.

The fresh pot is still dripping when I emerge, so I wander around the store and then wait and listen near the front counter.

I read the public notices. Fleur de Lys is looking for a postmaster. I used to work as a Junior Postal Officer when I was sixteen and seventeen. Would I qualify for the job? I can sort mail and seal mailbags, and am still sworn to respect the mails of Elizabeth Windsor. Is rent cheap in Fleur de Lys? You bet! How about firewood?

Coffee Poured and paid, I walk out of the store into the warm air and bright sunlight, and three of the Good Old Boys come with me and engage in conversation.

My question about the buildings is always a good safe topic. One theory advanced is that many Newfoundlanders went to work in the oil fields in Alberta, made stacks of money, and returned to Newfoundland to find that low-cost vinyl siding was available. The first house on the street is clad, looks like new, and then the rest of the street catches on, and up, and so the entire street looks new. Then the entire town.

On the road back from Fleur de Lys.

This looks like a slag heap from a gold mine.

I think its full name is “Baie Verte Junction Rock and Gravel Quarry”

Whatever it is, it is big, and shows up on Google Maps just north of Baie Verte

This is a view back up the highway. That slag heap reaches to within a few yards of the road.

A view across the hills. In this morning light I couldn’t make out whether those are man-made quarry terraces or natural ledges.

Check out the V-shaped notch on the skyline, centre of the photo.

In Newfoundland you are never far from the Atlantic Ocean.

The road is simply beautiful.

I took these photos of trees as background for a set of questions. You can ignore the images.

You are probably feeling safe, sitting at your computer.

I, however, was out in the woods, with the sound of shotguns or high-powered rifles echoing around me.

But on my way back to the car I spotted what I took to be moose-tracks.

And check out the sky. Cirrus, fine-weather clouds.

And a few yards further on, another view of The Atlantic Ocean.

Seal Cove

Then it was off to Seal Cove. A near-duplicate of an earlier photo in Baie Verte.

There is a quarry on the other side of the bay, too, with a ship loading rocks and minerals.

Even the little boat sheds are beautifully clad in siding.

Although in this case it looks like the sort of job I would do. That, or the wooden foundation is warping due to the weather attacks.

At my feet, a cluster of wildflowers and clover, and just below dead-centre, a bright red berry.

See?

Across the street, two shrubs with bright red berry clusters and a mixture of green and yellow leaves.

Then it was that I trod on one of my ear buds. Crushed, shattered beyond repair. I stuffed the dead bud in my pocket and contemplated the effect on me and my smart phone.

(1) I often walk around downtown Toronto with one ear empty (you know what I mean) the better to hear what is going on around me. I think that people are more likely to ask for directions when they see an unplugged ear

(2) The Source (a.k.a.Radio Shack) keeps replacing ear-buds no questions asked, and while I do not carry the receipt with me, it’s worth asking.

(3) Comes a question: Does a one-bud device consume less energy and therefore yield longer-life to a charge when I am listening to podcasts all day long?

Something for us all to think about.

The valley walls are a mixture of green and gold. My national colours!

I just can’t get over the freshness of the air, the warmth of the sun, and the colours, natural and man-applied.

More leaves on the roadside on the way into Seal Cove from Baie Verte.

Seal Cove

I am an idiot for not visiting Seal Cove on the south coast. Then I would by now have three Seal Coves under my belt.

And so to Seal Cove.

I have noticed many road signs that are obliterated by leafy shrubs.

At last! A derelict building!

And right next to it, a neatly clad Anglican church.

This building is in a bad state.

Paint is cracking and peeling.

From the post office steps, a view across the head of the bay.

A zoom shot, Note that the boat sheds are in good repair. On the outside at any rate.

Garden sheds ditto. It’s not just the residences that are clad, it is every building on the property.

This garage is in better condition than most houses I’ve lived in.

People are busy trucking and stacking logs for fuel for winter.

I was entertained by these seagulls.

They congregate on this building too.

A view across the bay. I have circled the Anglican Church.

Another view across the bay. I have circled the Anglican Cemetery and the Church.

Another view across the bay. I have circled the Anglican Church and, I think, the parish hall.

What a spread-out collection.

I managed to find some near-derelict boat-houses.

And then some well-trimmed boat-houses.

I took a zoom shot of the cemetery.

It’s beginning to seem a lot like Christmas.

My seagull friends. Note the plastic owls at each end of the roof ridge.

Hah!

On the right is the engine house with a winch that can haul a boat out of the water on the wheeled cradle.

Here is a typical rural hotel. In this case the Baie Vista Inn at the junction of highways 410 and 412.

I can’t remember why it took this photo. I am on the Trans-Canada Highway heading towards Grand Falls-Windsor. For the fourth time this week.

Perhaps it was to remind me of two incidents after I turned onto the Trans-Canada Highway eastbound.

I picked up speed to 100K/hr, the speed limit, and was bopping along quite nicely in a one-lane stretch when I car came up behind me. Now I know how it feels when you come up behind an old fart sticking to the speed limit. Been there. Done that. But on Newfoundland’s highways there are sufficient opportunities for passing when the “Climbing Lane” arrives.

The bulk of the Trans-Canada Highway seems to be three lane, so that one direction always has a chance to overtake. As well, signs announce the Climbing lane two kilometres ahead, which means “Yes, it is frustrating, but just hang in there for another mile, and you’ll be able to pass this guy”.

So, as we approach the very visible Climbing Lanes, what does yobbo do, but swing out across the double yellow line, floor it, and overtake me in the face of oncoming traffic, swerving back into position just as the three- or four-kilometres of Climbing lane begin.

And yes, about ten minutes later, same scenario, different yobbo, same swerve over the double-yellow line and back into position, but now ahead of me, just before the Climbing Lane begins.

I can be just as impatient as that, but not so much as to be unable to wait another fifteen seconds, so help me.

Still and all, every chat with a Newfoundlander ends with an admonition to “Drive Safely”. Because, presumably, that increases the chances that you’ll come back, d’y’hear?

Lewisporte

I phoned from Grand Falls-Windsor to check on a room at the hotel in Lewisporte, and the receptionist said cheerfully that yes, they had a room. “We’re a full house tonight” were her words.

Panic gripped me” “Do you mean that you DON’T have a room?”. Perhaps her cheerfulness was a way of rubbing her hands with glee because tonight, Thanksgiving Night, every room was booked.

No, “We’re a full house tonight” means that every room (of this three-floor but one-star” hotel was empty. The entire hotel was at her disposal.

Phew!

And here I am at the Esso in Lewisporte. There is a story:-

When I walk in to pay for gas, a customer is engaged in conversation. This can take up to three days, so I have learned to stroll around the store checking prices.

I walk past the wine and beer coolers and spot a bottle of Moscato from Jacob’s Creek. You don’t know where Jacob’s Creek is, do you?

Well it’s about twenty kilometres from where I used to live in Gawler, South Australia, on the far side of this world, so I took a photo of the bottles.

Back to the counter to pay for gas, and I strike up a conversation with the lady, explaining that they have wines from where I used to live. Well, it impressed me, and I was bored for conversation.

Young fellow behind me has joined in the conversation, we chat, I make my goodbyes and get back in the car.

While I am writing the odometer reading on the gas receipt, a car pulls up alongside of me. It is the young fellow. He explains that he is a musician and hands over a CD, professionally made, of songs about World War One.

Talk about your coincidences. I tell him I’ve been reading about the origins of the First Balkan war for thirty years now, and used to have six bookcases of books on the matter. Well, I start to pull out of the bowser area and then think “What the heck!”. I am alone and it is Thanksgiving Day, and I’ve just been given a gift by a typically friendly Newfoundlander.

His name is Terry Penney, and I am ashamed to say that I left his CD in a motel room somewhere in Newfoundland, and can’t find his email address. Do me a favour – take a friend to wherever he performs, buy two tickets, and ask him please to get in touch with me.

I pull up in a parking spot, re-enter the store, and buy a bottle of Jacob’s Creek Moscato. I can give it to the hotel manager when I check in.

I check in and give the bottle to Sweet Thing who bursts out laughing with joy. Turns out that Jacob’s Creek Moscato is her favorite wine.

I’ve never tasted it in my life!

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