I welcomed thoughts of lunch after traipsing through muddy fields and over long boardwalks at L’Anse aux Meadows. A welcome relief, the drizzle stopped. Our designated stop: The Norsemen Restaurant. Hardly a surprise after I spied this tall fellow across the road:
Lunch arrived almost as soon as we settled at our tables: soup, a shrimp wrap, and coffee, which cooled before I had an opportunity to drink it. I noticed Francis, our guide didn’t have the chowder, nor the shrimp wrap, as did the majority of the tour group. Maybe he has a cholesterol situation?
Actor who portrayed a Viking and who played at lunch:
Wade, the Viking at L’Anse aux Meadow must have rushed cleaning up, changing and driving to the restaurant. Accompanying himself with a guitar, and sometimes the squeeze box, he entertained us with rousing Newfoundland songs. I enjoyed his voice and found him agreeable to look at as well. He sold CDs of his songs and stayed during his lunch hour, but had to rush off again.
While visiting the gift shop at the back of the restaurant after lunch, a glass cabinet slid off the pegs and the glass shelf crashed. It sounded like an explosion. No one even stood within close proximity of the display case when it happened. A staff member decided the cause had been from vibration on the floor from all the visitors passing by in the narrow hallway. We were the only busload of tourists there.
A female neighbor who lived close to the restaurant rushed over to ask from where we had come. She wasn’t shy to say she made a habit of visiting when a bus arrived. We talked for a few minutes. She knotted the bottom of her shirt, a wistful gesture if I ever saw one.
I didn’t feel quite satisfied after the small lunch, but the bus waited and we were on our way again to St. Anthony to visit the Wilfred Grenfell Museum, which used to be home to Dr.Grenville and his family.
I wonder how Victo Dolores at https://doctorly.wordpress.com/2015/07/09/bend-over/ might like this doctor. A good old-fashioned one?
Newfoundland Time is one and a half hours ahead of Ontario and Quebec. Newfoundland used to be their own country, but when they joined Canada, they decided not to change to Standard time.
Like the random gardens we passed earlier, I noted lots of chopped, stacked wood along the roadside whether there were houses in the vicinity or not.
Unlike where we live in Ontario, the small grocery store we passed was closed Sundays. Gas stations were open and offered snacks, souvenirs, tees and wine. In Corner Brook when we asked a resident where to buy wine, she’d said only the liquor store. ”You can but all the beer you want at the gas station, but no wine,” she said. Hmm. I scratched my head. Do the rules change from town to town?
The red light problem on the bus from the previous day had been corrected. The company responsible for servicing the bus rebooted the computer, which runs the electronics. Everything is ship-shape now.
Smile for the day:
How can you pick out a Newfoundlander in heaven? He’s the one who wants to go home.
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Next on February 5th: Labrador by Ferry
© 2015 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles.
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