30 July: Stretching our Mussels

We slept in late and had a lazy morning. Unpacking a little more we chatted with each other until lunch. In the afternoon we went in search of a tasty creature that moves slower than molasses, yet sounds like it could move fast…the mussel.

      With borrowed rubber boots, and appropriate mussel wrangling gear, we drove 45ish minutes to Queen’s Cove. The mussel beds were at the end of a large stream. K&A said the topography of the shore rocks, that the mussel beds were on, had changed since last year.

      Spreading out we waded out to the furthest point and worked our way inward to shore. Any mussel bigger than our entire thumb was fair game. Elusive, these mussels were. Even drawing upon my veteran skills, earned by harvesting them at my grandparent’s cottage beside the Northumberland Straight when a young lad and teenager, I struggled to find the good ones. On top of the shore rocks were sun-tortured remains of the shellfish and in the water were many live ones, but were too small. The few that were good enough were covered in barnacles and/or seaweed. 

     Even with these issues after ninety minutes, we found more than enough for a feed. Before heading back, we washed the mussels with repeated baths of salt water until the dirt had been cleaned off from the outside and they had a chance to clean their insides.

      Once back, we stopped at K&A’s stage and dock and a fire started in the old washing machine drum. A pot of water was placed on the fire, with a bunch of mussels inside, while we waited for it to boil up and chatted. We also got to try A’s pickled squid & pickles, and some of D’s smoked salmon! Yum yum. The sky constantly changed clothing as the sun approached the day’s end. 

      The mussels were delicious, but we had to be careful as many pearls were found inside them. They were made from the grit the mussels took in and encapsulated with its mucus over its lifetime. While cleaning up, the family that loaned my wife and I the rubber boots came by in their boat. After a short conversation we gave them the remaining muscles that we had shucked as thanks for the loan.

      After heading back to the house, we relaxed, veg’d out, and got ready for bed. 1.6km walked.

29 July: Spears, Pettiness, and Extreme Pickle Flavour

Waking, packing, showering, Nespresso coffee, packing, delicious full breakfast, more packing, and loading the car…it was time to move.

      On the drive to Cape Spear, Canada’s most Eastern point, I observed that the terrain is like New Brunswick: hilly, dense forests, and a tough to maintain road system. The difference is the short height of the trees (five to seven feet) and how close they are to the road (a few feet rather than ten). At least they are when growing close to shore. The speed limit of 30km/hr seemed really low, but made sense in the context of one very big thing: moose! With the dense woods, proximity of the woods to the roadway, and lumbering masses of moose you need enough of a warning before stopping in time. So if you come to Newfoundland, follow the guidance on the speed signs.

      At Cape Spear, from 1836 to 1997, there has been a people-maintained lighthouse here. From 1846 to 1955 it was five generations of Cantwell’s that were here doing the job. During WW2 there were two large guns and AA emplacements to protect St. John’s harbour, a short distance away. There is a large ship’s mast by the lighthouse keeper’s house so that flags could be raised to signal the folks in Cabot Tower on Signal Hill. Then they could let the people of St. John's be aware of ships coming.

      Along the shore, the beauty of the plants was nice to see and would have provided comfort to those who stayed here. As long as they were not covered in snow, that is.

      After it was made into a National park in 1997, the lighthouse keeper’s dwelling was turned back in time to 1839. We were told that a total of one-hundred and sixty-eight layers of wallpaper were removed to get down to the wood. The company who made the original wallpaper was able to create a reproduction of the original when the area was turned into a historical park.

      From Cape Spear we drove back to nearby Petty Harbour to see the picturesque village and have a coffee for the road.

     The highway was like those in New Brunswick: long and straight, lots of general sameness, and trees that block the side views. The only breaks in the terrain were what you saw ahead of you in the distance. Fortunately, the scrub, shrubs, lichen, and moss types changed. This is good for keeping the mind alert and active. There were not a lot of places to stop for food along the highway, so we ate scones from our B&B and some Hornby bars.

      Near Clarenville we stopped at Sully’s gas station/market/liquor store/Robin’s Donuts for a bathroom break and to stretch our legs. This was one of your ‘everything’ stores providing items used by the surrounding community. The liquor section was particularly interesting with some fruit wines and a maple syrup wine. They also had Prince Igor extreme pickle flavoured vodka and Newfoundland Port. 

      Leaving Sully’s, we messaged our friends K&A and soon after we left the highway on the #205. The road, as warned, was in a degraded state and had potholes in cracks in other potholes…there were a lot of potholes. Speed was accordingly slow and after twenty minutes we arrived in the community of Saint Jones Within. 

      Made up of 72 permanent residents, and swelling by 40-50 in the summer months, the dominant feature was the harbour. Boats of all sizes with colourful stages (sheds) were selectively scattered around. Within seconds we pulled up to our friend’s place and greeted them with joy.

      After bringing our luggage in, and getting a tour of their place, we chit-chatted and had supper.  We then went on a walk to the community centre, new kids park, and back again. Near their place, we were asked what our shoe sizes were. We needed rubber boots for some activities. Seeing that one of their neighbours was home and cooking something outside, we approached and asked about borrowing two pairs. We were also offered some freshly fried cod and potato wedges. Yummy.

      Time was ticking and the day was long. We said goodnight to the neighbours and thanked them for the boots to borrow and the food given.

    At our friend's place we continued to catch up until the temptation of sleep crept into our bodies and we said our goodnights. 6.5km walked and 27 flights of stairs climbed.

28 July: Many Rooms but no room, Italian Passion, and a Duke

A full sleep meant an appetite and the solution was pancakes with blueberries! Delicious! There were two new guests at our table too. One had been hiking a trail in Newfoundland for six days.

   While my wife went to ‘The Outfitters’ store to hunt for hiking shoes, which she forgot in our front foyer at home, I went to pick up the rental car. They gave me a black Nissan Rogue and the transaction was smooth. I headed back to the B&B as Natalie was finishing her purchase and was going there too. The weather was particularly foggy today.

      Our first destination together was Saint John’s Basilica, which was the largest church in North America when it was built in 1855. Queen Victoria granted permission for crown land to be used for its construction in a space enclosed during one day by a fence. Now it is just the second largest in Canada. Although I was impressed by its large open space inside without needing support pillars, as seen in many European cathedrals, the decor wasn’t particularly new or interesting. It reminded me of what I had seen in Catholic churches growing up in Moncton NB.

      Next, we walked a very short distance (across the street) to get to ‘The Rooms’. It is a museum dedicated to the history of Newfoundland and Labrador and has interesting shapes outside and in. Heading up to the fourth floor, we wanted to eat first in the cafe, as the menu was interesting. What wasn’t interesting were the many people outside the cafe. We inquired with the wait staff and were told it would be an hour and forty-five-minute wait to get in. Turns out many others had the same idea to check out the museum on this foggy day.

      Luckily there was an Italian restaurant just a ten-minute walk away…Piatto Pizzeria and Enoteca. We each ordered a 9” pizza with salad which is the regular lunch special. I got the Tutta Ciccia pizza and caprese salad while my wife got the Greca pizza and Barbabietola Arrostita salad. We each got a glass of wine and finished the meal with Illy cappuccinos. Yum. Back to ’The Rooms’.

      During our nearly two hours walk through the museum I was impressed by the art, artifacts, and anthropological information which told the story of this province through time. The way everything was organized made sense and drew you in. The most interesting items to me were the symbols drawn by the last known Beothuk First Nation person and a birchbark map made by the Mik’maw in the early 1800’s. We finished at 440pm and headed downtown to see the Duke.

      At the Duke of Duckworth, we had the opportunity to rest, have a drink, and take notes about our day amidst the noise of people, video gaming machines, and sports channels talking more about sports than showing any (even as our Canadian athletes are winning medals at the Commonwealth Games).

      Just before leaving we decided to have supper at ‘Grotto’. In this trendy basement “apex of the curve” establishment we started with oysters. I ordered the house made pappardelle pasta with moose meat and wild mushrooms while my wife ordered the Osso Bucco. Switching halfway through it allowed us to try both scrumptious dishes. For dessert I ordered the espresso creme brûlée.

      With full bellies and sated minds, we walked back to our B&B to shower, rest, write our draft emails, and call it a night. 7.7km walked and 61 flights climbed.