I’d tried contacting a few accommodation sites around Fleur de Lys without success. No one responded to emails so I was ready to give up on this out of the way town. But when I arrived at the turn off, it was still early in the day, so I decided to drive the seventy or so kilometres to see the Inuit site I’d heard about.
I hadn’t taken into account the condition of the road. It was full of sunken holes I’m guessing were from the harsh winters, and I had to drive at a slower speed or risk cracking an axle.
At the town’s tourist centre, two unfriendly and bored attendants told me that the soapstone hollows were just over the hill. I walked the short distance to view the holes left by Dorset Inuit. They once scooped out the sandstone, then made bowls that they traded along the east coast.