Driving in Newfoundland had been easy as there wasn’t a lot of traffic to contend with. I could have made the journey from west to east in a day if I’d pushed it but what was the rush? I stopped in Gander so that the next morning, I had time to investigate the narrow strip of land that joined Avalon Peninsula to the rest of Newfoundland.
On one side was Arnold’s Cove; on the opposite side, Sunnyside. There was a Beothuk/European memorial site where supposedly the two groups had once met peacefully. Continue reading Sunnyside’s Beothuk past
My Newfoundland trip was almost over and as is often the habit when I know my holiday is near the end, I want to drag it out a little longer.
As I drove back down the coast, I stopped at every point I thought might be of interest, first Bird Cove that turned out I needn’t have bothered, then Arches Provincial Park, that was definitely worth a look. Continue reading Arches Provincial Park
South of St Anthony’s lay what looked like a typical coastal fishing village. There was a trail over rocky terrain where a couple gazed at the sea where whales danced. Continue reading Goose Cove’s labrador tea
On the way to L’Anxe aux Meadows, I spotted a tiny piece of white floating in the sea. That was my iceberg, the only one I saw. Had I started on the west coast and toured east, instead of the reverse, I would have been three weeks earlier and probably seen more. I put the thought out of my head because I was headed to what the Vikings called Vinland where they settled a thousand years ago. Continue reading The Vikings of L’Anxe aux Meadows
As mentioned in a previous blog, whale watching was a matter of luck. This trip turned out to be a lucky day. Not only were the whales as curious about us as we were about them, but also playful. Continue reading Whale watching off St Anthony
The southern trails were in sharp contrast to Western Brook Pond fjord. I’d hiked for an hour through low, but lush vegetation to arrive at a jetty where the tour boat would head out. I was told they weren’t sure when the next sail would be because the weather looked ominous. The only family waiting and I shrugged our shoulders. We’d taken the hike, so might as well see how the day turned out. Continue reading Western Brook Fjord, Gros Morne
Back on the main highway from Fleur de Lys, I was on my way to Gros Morne where I spent the next couple of days.
When I arrived at the tablelands the following morning, a tour group idled ahead and I caught up to listen as the guide pointed out strange rocks and vegetation that grew in the desolate location. Continue reading Gros Morne National Park
All along the highway to Elliston, garden plots dotted the side of the road. This was where locals grew their summer vegetables. Wouldn’t people stop and steal their crops? No, I was told. No one had experience this kind of theft according to locals. Continue reading Sidetracked in Maberly