Traditional, small gardens dotted the edge of the road in areas where construction companies had finished excavating and had dug up bog and peat, great growing condition for potatoes or carrots. We saw no houses around because the garden owners didn’t live in the same area. The land was perfect for planting and no one messed with your garden.
When we drove past homes, none of the front doors had stairs. They call these the mother-in-law door. The inhabitants always use the back door therefore no reason to put in steps at the front of the house. The joke is without steps the mother-in-law cannot enter.
There is only one highway in Newfoundland. If you drive up it, you’ll drive down it. Where there was nothing but road before us, our guide Francis put on a CD for entertainment. Shanneyganock is an Irish band:
Credit: Larry Bennett
So far not an exciting day: rain and not enough walking. Excepting two stops for use of the facilities, we sat glued to our seats and on the bus. We lucked out the seats were super comfortable and had footrests. I found myself nodding, but didn’t sleep. Mary had a nap and the rest of our fellow travelers were quiet leading me to wonder how many others snoozed as well.
We visited The Arches, Parson’s Pond and took pictures in the drizzle. What a day.
The arches are created from a limestone cliff.
Lunch was a wonderful vegetable soup, which reminded me of my mom’s recipe. I decided on the spot to make a pot as soon as I reached home again after the tour. Soon as we sat, the soup arrived. Then, plates of fresh white, quartered sandwiches appeared—all white, no whole wheat—and immediately, the coffee. Much too efficient. Servers soon cleared and cheesecake delivered for dessert. I must have confused the waitress, who blinked several times when I waved it away. I don’t have a sweet tooth these days unlike my much younger self.
John Cabot landed at Bonavista, Newfoundland in 1497 and discovered millions of cod. The British laid claim on Newfoundland as well as Europe and Spain. Then a 1,000 Irish came (duirng the 1840s) before the potato famine, and settled along the coastline because of the fish and made a good living from fishing.
I wonder what Andrew of Have Bag, Will Travel will say when he reads about today’s touring after his own last two posts.
A little after 3:00 p.m. I noticed Shawn, our driver, in the rearview mirror. He appeared drowsy. I wasn’t certain from where I sat, but it looked his eyes were heavy. Our guide had just mentioned the heat to him and didn’t seem to notice. Could I be seeing things because of the curvature of the mirror? For a second, I almost yelled out to him. “Wake up, Shawn.” I had to save us from an accident because of his tiredness or road hypnosis. I know I have a weird imagination. Right? My sister later told me she thought the same about him.
Francis cleared up the mystery about no lobster supper per our tour schedule: it’s out of season. The tour before us enjoyed it, but we were an added group because there were so many on the wait list. They were all gone by the time our tour began.
At one point when we arrived at a small museum, the driver drove as close to the building as humanly possible. Guess he wasn’t road weary after all. The museum lady split us into two groups for a guided walk-through. Mary and I were in the second one and our time much abbreviated as we had to hustle out, but I now cannot recall why.
The bones are those of a whale. The rocks are too many to describe.
Lobster from Newfoundland is better. It takes seven years to grow to market size (1-1/2 pounds) because the water is colder. Nova Scotia lobster grows faster and is not as tasty.
Next on January 22nd: L’Anse aux Meadow
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