On the way, we tried to find a little roadside stand that K&A had stumbled upon in years past. After realizing we had passed it, a turnaround led us to a side road that went to Gander Bay. The stand was guarded by a duck dressed to party. Within the shelter were refrigerated chicken and Duck eggs, knitted and sewn items, ceramics, homemade jewellery, and other miscellaneous goods. It was a clever booth that drew you in to see what it contained.
Next, near Muskgrave Harbour in Banting Memorial Municipal Park, we went to see the wreckage of a plane at Banting Memorial Interpretation Centre. The one that crashed nearby which carried Doctor Frederick Banting, who co-discovered insulin. K&A told us there are many trails that purposefully pass by or go to airplane wrecks. In the interpretation centre, there were many articles posted about his career, discovery, WW2 service, and controversial death. Dun Dun Duuuuuuuunnnn. Many theories were written of who may have killed him and why, but it was likely just a mechanical malfunction of the two engines on the airplane.
The super creepy part of the place is behind the building where the wreck and mockup of the airplane Bunting went down on is, and it wasn’t the wreck. It was the plywood frame they have standing up with a cartoony painting of the plane and pilot. A hole is cut out so someone can stick their head through where the pilot’s head would be. So let's set the scene. Plane wreckage, check. Four people died from the plane crashing, check. Mockup, check. Plywood image of plane where your child can pretend they are a pilot on the plane that crashed, super creepy check. Unsettling for me.
While going to the washroom in the park, we found the facilities and beach very pleasant. Although the weather was a little tumultuous, we would camp here. The washrooms also had a differently dressed duck as guardian.
As it was getting close to lunch, a poster taped to the side of the washrooms indicated the chilli cookoff would be happening today between Kaitlyn and the Firettes (Woman’s Volunteer Firefighting Association). We all decided to go to the Fire Hall, where it was taking place. Everyone was interested in the unmentioned story behind this contest. Did Kaitlyn once belong to the Firettes? Did an unspeakable divide occur regarding a certain ingredient? Has she won too many times and was kicked out? The stories are endless. But first we had to find it.
Soon we had located the brand spanking new firehall. Doors were closed and locked. The lights were off. Empty of people. Could we have missed a deadly chilli themed hand-to-hand combat sequence between Kaitlyn & the Firettes…and missed it? Someone suggested that since the fire hall was so new that the cookoff was happening at an older firehall, so we continued our search. And searched. And searched. Ange saw a resident, an older man leaving his home to get into his car. Stopping, we asked where the chilli cookoff was and he said he’d take us there. We followed and in no time at all he pulled over near a community hall with a basement door open and people going in and out. He verified our guess that this was the place and we thanked him. Now to determine the destiny of Kaitlyn.
After paying our money at the door, we were guided to the bar. Four trays of ten clear plastic cups, with chilli inside each and numbered, were brought to us with a spoon and napkin. Looking at the generous portions, and voting cards with space available for “The Best” and “Most Interesting”. The taste test began.
All were different. Some were average, yet none were sub par. Some had spice or sweet or a little of both. One used East Indian spices (my choice for most interesting). The one I marked down as best had a little bit of heat with a tinge of molasses and lots of deep flavour. Tummies full, we entered the car with the potential of an afternoon with a little extra gas.
Second to last stop was the Barbour Living Heritage Village. It is a series of egg yolk yellow buildings that provide a history lesson of this “Venice of Newfoundland”.
While waiting for our time slot, K and I noted this odd AI/photoshopped poster of Putin, Zelensky, Carney, and Trump. They were side by side with arms over each other's shoulder looking approvingly at some bearded man in the middle. The poster exclaimed an “End to Shirtlessness”. An underslogan said, “One Shirt, One Connection, One World.” Not something you see every day so I checked it out on the interwebs and it wasn’t as odd as I thought, but it is adjacent to the Kingdom of odd. The guy in the middle is selling t-shirts, with the “end to shirtlessness” slogan, to end men’s tendencies to remove their shirts at sporting events. Normally after drinking alcohol. He doesn’t like it and says it denigrates the sport they attend. That’s it. An odd goal to get behind, but I do find the choice of people in the AI image kingdom of odd level. Why not famous sports players?
The walking tour took us to the barn-sized fishing stage, quirky Benjamin Barbour home (1873), fancy dan Alphaeus Barbour house (1907) that bankrupted its builder, Sealing Interpretation Centre, and old Methodist schoolhouse (1880). In the sealing centre we heard a story of a ship in trouble. The captain had the idea of taking a greasy ham hock, setting it on fire, and raising it up the mast for its crew to be saved by another ship. In fact all the guides, one or more per building, delivered good knowledge and stories about the history of the structures and the people who lived there. It was a very pleasant hour and a half tour, except…for the other four people on the tour.
Yep. Two married folks our age and the wife’s aged father with his much younger new wife (MYNW). The MYNW had a fancy sun dress on and as soon as we entered the fishing stage complained to her much older husband that it was too cold…so they left the tour. Anyone with a weather app on their phone would have dressed appropriately for the day. The woman our age left, after we were shown the boathouse, to “check up on her dad” and we never saw her again. This left us the man our age or as I like to call him the “I wanna say things to interrupt the guide and show them up with useless facts or questions to feel superior to everyone” person. Let’s just shorten that to “The Useless Idiot”. He left after the first house, but came back partway into the second house. He tried his nonsense again and we ignored him, so he left never to return. Turns out the adult toddler needs attention to survive. Anyways, as one of A’s coffee mugs with a sparkly unicorn says, “I told the bitches whatever and the bitches whatevered”.
Our last stop, North of Clarenville, was a twofer: a cidery and a pizza place. The Newfoundland Cider Company tasting room had some nice ciders so Natalie and I each had a flight. We both preferred the British classic of “Scrumpy” made with wild and orchard grown apples. We picked up a four-pack.
At Cabin Six Pizza, a stone's throw away from the cidery, we had our supper. The inside decor was rough lumberjack cool with retro items for warm nostalgic feelings. The pizzas provided wood fired delicious delights. The blue fizzy Pop Shop drink brought up old memories.
Getting back, at 830pm, led to a little chit chat before going to bed. 2.2km walked.
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