1: July 23rd and July 24th, St. Johns and around

23 July 2018

Logan Airport, B terminal, Gate B2

Fifty minutes to go before boarding and another passenger with an eastern European accent is yelling what appears to sound like non-emergency small talk into his phone while all of us near him are either shaking our heads or laughing.  He’s covered the phone and his mouth with his hand which I guess makes him think we can’t hear him.   Reminds me that some years ago in some forgotten terminal there was a doctor yelling into her cell phone discussing the terminal cancer she’d diagnosed in a patient of her’s.   Very un-HIPPA.

A group of ladies travelling to Halifax from Houston, when hearing we  were headed to Newfoundland, asked us if we’d seen the Broadway  smash “Come From Away” which musically tells the  story of all the USA passenger jets forced to land in Gander, Newfoundland after 9-11 and how the Newfies open their arms and took care of everyone.  I have seen great You Tube clips of the play and it is high  on my list.   We asked them if  they’d seen Hamilton and at least one of them had she had.  Maria jumped right  in and started rapping the first song from the show – “How does a bastard orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman dropped in the middle of forgotten spot in the Caribbean…..”   With only one verse she had blown their minds.   They’re lovely ladies and  I wonder what their politics are.   Texas is red so its possible these ladies could actually be Trumpers. 

OH CANADA!!!

Arrived in St John's, Newfoundland, this afternoon.  Walked downtown and although from the plane the suburbs looked positively middle and upper class, the downtown working harbor is relatively unpolished.  That being said, we stumbled upon a highly rated restaurant and had maybe the most expensive dinner we've ever had, even if one takes the exchange rate into account.  But it was worth it.  Fabulous.   Halfway through the meal Maria remembered why the name of the place "Raymond’s"  sounded familiar.  We’d seen it on Anthony Bourdain's show a month earlier - just before he died.  

Coming out of the restaurant into the rain, I decided to call a cab.   Apparently, so did the husband of the couple ahead of us, but when the wife found out he’d called a cab she let him know she didn’t need one and stalked off.   The hubby seemed perfectly comfortable waiting.  Maria didn’t feel she needed one either and when our cab didn’t show up after five minutes, we walked back to our B&B 

24 July 2018 St. Johns, Newfoundland

A little sunshine goes  a long way into making St John’s a very pleasant town.   Took a hike this morning up to Signal Hill, where Marconi transmitted the first radio signal to Europe.   A great view of St. John’s.  Lots of trails around Signal Hill where the environment reminded me of Sitka, Alaska.   Found our way back to town by 11AM so we drove south of St. John’s to Witless Bay, a quiet village with a very funky name, for lunch at a cozy luncheonette overlooking the bay.   The bay was visible when we walked in for lunch but by the time we ordered, the  bay was socked in by fog.  A bunch  of local ladies were whooping it up at the next table.   One joke or funny  story after another.       

After lunch, headed up towards Cape  Spear, but on the way stumbled across a beautiful fishing town, Petty Harbor.   Petty Harbor could compete with Rockport, Mass for space on seaside  calendars.  Next stop was Cape Spear Light House, the most easterly  point in north America.  It might  also be the most windy spot on the continent.  Stunning views of the coastline until the fog, which has been following us for almost 24 hours, set in.

A note about the rented car:   The  Budget lady was going to set me  up with a Dodge Charger and I was a little apprehensive since I’m not a muscle-car kind of guy.  But she finally decided on a Chrysler 300, a car I knew nothing about.   Turns out  it’s a “full size” road hog.   Must be the equivalent of the old Chrysler Imperial.   Maria’s appalled.   

Back to our B&B for wine and games and mind melding with a Californian who is as pissed off about Trump as we are. 

Dinner tonight at Mallard Cottage,  which was also fantastic – at a fraction of the cost  of Raymond’s.  Both places had background music from the Stax, R&B, soul music era between 1955 to 1965.  A  strange mix I hadn’t expected.  At the end of the meal at Mallards, though,  Lake Street Station came on with “Bad  Self Portraits” a fabulous recent song by a stupendous group.

ST. JOHN'S 

NEWFOUNDLAND COASTLINE SOUTH OF 

ST JOHN'S

LIGHTHOUSE OUTSIDE OF ST. JOHN'S HARBOR

SIGNAL HILL, ST. JOHN'S

OIL RIG SUPPLY VESSEL

PETTY HARBOR

PETTY HARBOR

CAPE SPEAR LIGHTHOUSE