Newfoundland: Part 2
Itinerary:
Tuesday, July 23rd - Green Point round 2
Wednesday, July 24th - Sir Richard Squires Provincial Park
Thursday, July 25th - J.T. Cheeseman Provincial Park
Friday, July 26th - Ferry back to Nova Scotia
Saturday, July 27th - Dropped Taylor back off at the airport and I headed into Halifax
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(I can’t quite remember where it fits into the narrative but at some point on our way to Green Point on Tuesday afternoon, we stopped at a lighthouse and saw a small herd of caribou napping on a rock beach!)
I woke up in Green Point on Wednesday morning to a cool breeze blowing through my window screens. After reading my book in bed for a half hour, I rolled out of the car and brushed my teeth. I grabbed the green tea I had been steeping overnight and went for a walk down to the water while I waited for Taylor to wake up. It was a bright day and we only had a two hour drive to our next campsite, so it was going to be a mosey morning (my favourite). After a peaceful sit on some grass overlooking the ocean, I headed back to the site. Taylor had woken up so we packed up all our things and found a place where we could park for the afternoon while we hiked an oceanside trail.
The first part of the trail was covered in toads even in the daytime and I couldn't help but smile each time I saw one. About half way through the trail we came across a view that I couldn't leave behind, so I opted to sit and draw while Taylor finished the hike without me. I had my sketchbook in my backpack but I ended up spending most of the time just sitting and looking out at the waves, pondering life and soaking in the scenery. At one point, I turned and saw three fat green caterpillars munching on the plant beside me. I don’t think they were monarch caterpillars but definitely some kind of butterfly and I enjoyed watching them munch on leaves and move from stem to stem. Time didn't mean anything to them and in that moment, it didn’t mean anything to me either.
I can't remember how long I was there before Taylor found me on her way back from the rest of the hike. It might have been an hour, maybe two, I honestly couldn't say. Time becomes irrelevant when you’re in a place like this. We headed back down the trail towards the campground and passed through a grove of fir trees that smelled like Christmas. Christmas isn't my favourite holiday but that is definitely one of my favourite smells and I breathed in gulps of the sweet air, wishing I could take some of it with me. Once we got back, we went back to the comfort station to download some maps using the wifi and headed on our way to the next campground, Sir Richard Squires Provincial Park.
We stopped at a roadside market along the way and while we were there, I noticed that the suspension on Cece looked really low in the back, as though there was a lot of weight in the trunk even though there wasn't any more than when we started the journey a few weeks ago. Knowing we were about to go deeper inland and away from service stations, I found an auto garage nearby and surprisingly, they had time to take a look and do a safety check. A half hour later, I was informed that my car is actually a 2009 instead of a 2011 and that all her suspension elements are intact and safe. The problem? She's literally just old and sagging. The mechanic recommended I take it easy on rougher roads and get the springs replaced when I get back home if I intend to keep driving her, then sent us on our way.
As fate would have it, the road that took us to that night's park was gravel with lots of potholes. I kept a crawling speed and wove around most of the dips, only hitting a few that made us cringe. When we got to the park we were very confused by how empty it was, considering it was the middle of summer. There was nobody at the front gate so we drove around until we found the main office and tracked down a park ranger. He informed us that the summer student who worked the gate was having supper and would be back out in a half hour, and for us to make ourselves at home in the meantime. We got to our reserved site and decided to swap for a different one, seeing as we had our pick of the park- only a handful of the couple hundred sites were taken.
We settled on one that was next to a creek and walked down a trail that took us to a wide river with a shallow waterfall. We later learned that the reason the park was so empty was because the water level was too low for salmon fishing, which was one of the big things that drew people to camp there. We did see a few salmon jumping into the falls but the water stains on the rock shore showed where the water would usually be and sure enough, it was low right now. We sat by the campfire that night and talked about how strange it felt that the trip was almost over. We had just one more night of camping left and the overnight ferry ride home before Taylor would hop back into a flying tin can headed back to Ontario.
The next morning (Thursday) we made our way to Corner Brook, one of the larger towns on that part of the province. We went to a Walmart so I could stock up on supplies for the next stretch of the trip after Taylor and I parted ways. After Walmart and a quick trip to Atlantic Superstore for fresh fish, we made our way down the highway to J.T. Cheeseman Provincial Park, just a few minutes north of Port Aux Basques where we would catch the ferry back to the mainland on Friday. We got to our campsite a few hours before the sun went down and immediately felt the energy shifting away from the peaceful parks we had been staying at. The park was full of travellers who had just gotten off the ferry and it felt busy, like a hub. I acknowledged the change in atmosphere with a sigh and went for a walk while Taylor cooked up the fish we bought earlier.
I walked away from the campground and down a gravel road that took me to a beach. My job interview time had been set for the following morning and I was on the hunt for a quiet space to get my head in the game. I had been out of the classroom for nearly two months and I needed to wake my brain cells up in a real way because they needed to be on their best behaviour in the morning. I found a set of stairs that led up to a platform overlooking the beach and grasslands and surprisingly, nobody else was near that part of the trail so I got the spot to myself. After an hour or so pondering different answers to potential questions and making peace with my nerves, the sun began to set across the water and I headed back to the campsite.
The fish we bought that afternoon turned out to be incredibly salty and couldn't be eaten. It turned out that salted cod was realllly salty and needed to be soaked for a few days before it was edible, but nobody told us Ontarians that so we learned the hard way. After an improvised "girl dinner", we prepared for the incoming rain by wrapping the tent in a tarp cocoon (there weren't enough trees around our site to establish a proper canopy) and went to bed.
I woke up early on Friday morning and drove down to the beach spot I had found yesterday because I had decent cell service there. It was raining but I love rain and it felt cozy to sit in my car, watching the drops slide down the windshield as I waited for the call to come through. After the interview finished, the rain had cleared up a bit so I went for a short walk to shake off the nerves and ground myself a bit before going back to the campsite. The past two months had been shadowed by many twists and turns in my work life, leaving me uncertain where I was going to be in September or even if I wanted to return to teaching at all. Although I was excited at the prospect of the job I had just interviewed for, I was also excited by the other paths I could go down if this gate didn't open. I was simultaneously at peace with all my options and on the edge of my seat as I waited for the decision to come through.
It was pouring rain again when I got back to the campsite and there was no way we could cook breakfast there, so we packed up the wet tarps and tent and drove to the comfort station where we found a small covered picnic shelter. A man who was travelling on a motorcycle was taking shelter there too, so we talked to him for a bit while we cooked up breakfast. He was from New York and had been on quite a few adventures; it was interesting to hear about some of the places we hadn't made it to yet. A bit later, a couple who was also travelling by motorcycle joined us all under the shelter and we talked as a group for a couple of hours before the clouds broke and Taylor and I headed on our way.
Our first stop was the beach so Taylor could see the beautiful sand dunes and I could check my phone. As we headed down the road and my phone connected to service, a notification dinged. It was a voicemail- the decision had been made. After a suspenseful few minutes and a phone call later, I walked down the beach with a smile on my face; the gate had opened. After our beach visit, we headed into Port Aux Basques and found a flat, sunny spot near the water at the end of a row of houses. We unpacked our wet gear and ate a snack while we waited for it to dry out. After everything was loaded back in the car, we moseyed through the small town and found our way to the ferry terminal where we parked in our respective row and waited to board.
We were near the front of the line so we were some of the first to board the ferry. We found two sets of window seats, one in front of the other, so we could be close together and still stretch out. After we set our things down, I headed up to the top deck to stretch for a bit before settling back in and trying to sleep. I caught a few hours of crooked neck sleep and woke up just in time to see the sun starting to peek over the horizon on Saturday morning. I wrapped myself in my blanket and rushed up to the top deck, smiling big as the vibrant colours painted the sky and the breeze played with my tangled morning hair. Once the sun was up, I went back downstairs to brush my teeth and grab my laptop before heading back up top to sit and write for a bit.
I nestled myself in a sunny corner of the deck, juice box beside me, computer in my lap and blanket around my shoulders. An older couple saw me from further down the deck and smiled at me like I was a funny kind of crazy which made me laugh a bit at myself in a good way. We started to get close to land, so I packed up my things and headed back downstairs. I passed the couple on my way and at the last moment, decided to say hello and ask where they were from. In the strangest twist of divine timing, it turned out that they were from the town beside mine back home. Not only that but the wife (I can't remember her name now) was a retired elementary school secretary who worked at the elementary school where I did my very first student teaching placement back in 2016 and we remembered each other!
Newfoundland was one of the most magical places I've visited, partly because of the other-worldly landscape and partly because of the moments of divine timing that happened along the way. Even the rain that came on our very last morning on the big island was beautiful in some way; there was poetry sewn into each part of the journey. Driving off the boat that Saturday morning and making the trek to Halifax to drop Taylor back off at the airport was bittersweet. I know I've used the word "grateful" to describe this trip a lot but I'm at a loss for a word that can better describe the full-hearted feeling. Months of preparation and hard work had created this journey and now it was speeding by in the form of campsites, ocean views, great conversations and nuggets of magic at every stop.
Next up: Halifax and more Nova Scotia
