Day 21

Home for the final post! It had started to rain in St. John's this morning so we decided we might as well come home! The travel day was uneventful and we arrived safe and sound in Toronto slightly ahead of schedule. Andrew was there with a smile and warm greeting and it was perfectly clear that while I miss the sea and Newfoundland, living there I would miss my children (and soon grandchildren!) more.

Jeffrey and Nancy (sporting quite the baby bump now I might add) came by to cook dinner for us and share the stories from our three weeks apart. The house ... not so bad really. As long as I stay away from corners and details, they kept thing pretty shipshape while we were away. My herb garden and one of my hanging baskets are no more but hey, you can't have everything!

The vacation was incredible but we have a wonderful life blessed with the greatest family and friends here now - a powerful motivation to call Ontario home!

Day 20

Bright eyed and bushy tailed after a grand sleep, we had the morning to fill as Cliff and Liz were off visiting an old childhood friend who is now a professor at MUN. We went off to have one last visit with Dad’s sister Bernice. We insisted we would not stay for lunch. Now I should have known better! While we sat in her back garden enjoying the beautiful morning she plied us with homemade smoothies (four of them, but who’s counting, and besides fruit is good for you, right?), cold, luscious slices of Moo’s turtle ice cream cake and rum balls – which are a specialty of Aunt Bernice and have quite a kick! By early afternoon I left having stuck to my decision not to stay for lunch. Aunt Bernice had assured I would not eat elsewhere though! While we were there my cousin Mac tracked us down and stopped by for a visit. I hadn’t seen Mac in 30 years (he was in Australia on our last visit). Once again we chatted as if time had not happened. Is it only me? Is it only Newfoundland? It’s wonderfully comforting, I know that!

Meeting up with Cliff and Liz, we wandered downtown and did a little last minute shopping before heading off to the Celtic Hearth for a tasty bowl of stew. We met Grant and Ruth and Dolores and John. It was strange to sit with these people and watch as my past collided with my present in a mixture of friends and family.

The stew had been pre-decided… since as kids, Dolores and I seldom ate dinner apart. We were always at one house or the other, and we developed patterns. Tuesday was always at Munn’s if we could swing it, since her Mom made the greatest stew! After many a Tuesday bowl of stew I mentioned it one day and she reacted in surprise. She had not realized that she made stew every Tuesday. It certainly wasn’t planned as we’d assumed! Sadly, Dolores lost her Mom this past spring to cancer. Since my last night in town was a Tuesday, we decided to seek out a pot of stew that Mary Munn would have been proud of. The stew was thick and tasty so I’m sure she would have approved. I think she would also have been pleased to see us together again after all these years.

David and I exited rather quickly from the pub leaving all of these people, with only me in common, to finish dinner together. I had discovered that there was to be a Mass at Belvedere Cemetery where my grandparents and great grandparents are buried. While perhaps not a conventional end to a holiday, it seemed somehow a perfect finale. As I gathered with other family members around the place where my ancestors are laid to rest, a sense of my history with this island was intense. I have loved every minute of this trip – the people, the island, and the memories.

I will apologize now to those who wonder what pictures of head stones are doing in a vacation blog! But I know there are enough family followers who will be interested in the information inscripted on the stones to make it worthwhile.

Dad is one of 22 children not all of them made it into adulthood.

(B-L) Grampie (R) Grammie, Geraldine (died at 14 of cancer) and the 5 babies who died in infancy (F-L) Great grandfather and grandmother and Malachy, Grampie's brother who was killed in action in WWI

Grampie - the inscription includes In Flander's Field and mention of the fact that he was a Blue Putee, one of the first 500 of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment to enlist.



Great grandfather

Great grandmother

Following Mass we reconnected with Cliff and Liz and ended our vacation where we began in St John’s. We stopped at Moos for ice cream and headed to Signal Hill to sit on the wall, overlooking the ocean and eat the last treat I’m planning to enjoy for some time!! Lord I hope the scale will survive the initial weigh-in!!

We talked about our plan to return in two years and began to list all the things we didn’t get to in this trip … the Geo Centre, The Rooms, The Fluvarium, Bell Island, Logy Bay Marine Lab … we are quite sure we could have another holiday without any repeats!

Day 19

“How you doing me ol’ trout?” greeted us as we arrived at the B&B this morning to fetch Cliff and Liz. Brenda had been waiting since she had heard that we had plans to go to Ferryland today and have a picnic lunch from the lighthouse. Apparently all we were going to get was “a drink box, a piece of fruit and an old crust of bread.” For this we would apparently be expected to pay $25 or $30 dollars each and it “wouldn’t be fit look”! Now while all this seemed rather unlikely, who was I to question Brenda since she was so sure she had a better plan? Following instructions we first stopped at Canadian Tire for a foam cooler then it was off to Breen’s for sandwiches, treats and cold drinks. We were instructed to say that Brenda sent us and we wanted a picnic. Not willing to leave anything to chance we were even assured we wanted the turkey sandwiches with light and dark meat, dressing and cranberry mayo. Evidently we could be trusted to choose our own bread but everything else was precisely dictated. Apparently this would result in a lunch “we couldn’t wrap our gob around”. Understanding by now that resistance was futile we executed orders and were on our way to Ferryland with not more than a brief delay.

The trip down the shore was yet again blessed with exquisite seascapes. Arriving in Tors Cove we just couldn’t wait any longer to stop and explore and since Brenda/Breen’s picnic was waiting in the trunk we didn’t have to wait for Ferryland to have lunch. We had gotten a glimpse of a pretty cove that I was certain we could get to – somehow. David, bless his cooperative little heart was game for another driving adventure and we landed in a little piece of heaven on earth. The pictures hardly do justice to the meadow on a bluff overlooking the ocean and five small islands that lay just off shore. The breeze was gentle, the air warm and sweet and while the East Coast trail led off in one direction there were countless opportunities to explore paths that really weren’t. You know the sort I mean? You know it really isn’t a road but perhaps a fellow traveler, perhaps God, wore a slight path that leads to who knows where. At some points you begin to wonder if perhaps you just imagined the slight indentation in the grass but you can’t resist going on just a little further. I’ve always been a sucker for paths that really aren’t so while Cliff and Liz sat in the meadow to enjoy the day, David and I wandered.

Meadow flowers

A path that really wasn't...

With regret we left our little private cove and continued down the shore. On our approach to Ferryland we passed a sign that informed us that the lighthouse picnics were not available today! I still don’t know which one of us is living right that our lives should be so blessed by perfect plans and changed plans that are also perfect. David and Liz had to be convinced to leave Ferryland and the marvelous picture taking opportunities that it offered. In fact we might be there still but for the fact that we had made reservations and booked a whale watching tour for the late afternoon.

Now Liz usually doesn’t have much use for any plan to watch birds or animals. Her eyesight provides a challenge to viewing elusive creatures, but enjoying boats and being a good sport we all headed to O’Brien’s in Bay Bulls. She needn’t have worried. The birds and the humpback whales were both so plentiful you’d need a blindfold and your head in a sack not to see them! The guides were entertaining; the ocean swells significant enough to provide a thrill and the weather, oh the weather. Although we stayed out until 7:30 in the evening, the jackets that I insisted we would need, stayed where they belonged – in the bag! Now Liz had taken to calling me a boldfaced liar and Cliff thinks Newfoundlanders are a bunch of whiners to complain about their weather. They have experienced nothing but sunshine and warmth – even out on the North Atlantic! So much for the suitcase full of warm clothes I assured them they would need.

The Atlantic Whaler

Puffins are the funniest little birds. Everything they do appears awkward and difficult. They appear frantic when they fly. They look like they struggle when they take off and land. They live on the side of a cliff with other birds that eat them and they don’t swim but skip across the surface of the water! 260,000 pairs of North Atlantic Puffins nest here so there is no problem spotting them. They are also completely charming and fun to watch on the way out to sit in the middle of the humpback feeding ground.

A North Atlantic Puffin

The sky is full of them!

Joe O’Brien builds the suspense as we travel and asks everyone on board to shout if they see something. Using the clock positions as a reference, before long people are shouting 11 o’clock, 7 o’clock, 10 o’clock … in rapid succession as O’Brien announces he has “no friggin’ idea what time it is any more”! At one point we are surrounded by about 15 humpbacks, breaking the surface with their massive bodies as they move through the water eating caplin. The humpbacks feed using a most inventive technique known as bubble net feeding: a group of whales swims in a shrinking circle blowing bubbles below a school of caplin. As the ring gets smaller the bubbles encircle the fish. The whales then suddenly swim upward through the 'net', mouths open wide, swallowing thousands of fish in one gulp - 2000 kg per day! I might add that I’m quite certain we’ve eaten that much since we’d arrived! The distinctive tail appears just before they execute a deep dive and they leave an oily mark on the surface of the sea called a footprint. These whales were plentiful and close – close enough that we could hear the air as they exhaled and felt the spray from the spout! Magnificent!

Whale spouts everywhere!

A tail of a whale!

Since it was close and the view spectacular we stayed with O’Brien’s to have dinner at the end of the cruise. Sitting on the deck overlooking the ocean we marveled at yet another awesome day as we once again feasted on fresh offerings from the sea. Although we had initially toyed with the idea of going back down to Middle Cove Beach now that the caplin were in, we opted instead for an early night to begin the 9 ½ hours of sleep headed my way!! Newfoundland is wonderful, but exhausting.

Day 18

Wish I could report that, like all good Catholics, we were faithful in our quest for Mass this morning. Now we did indeed go to Mass, but the true motivation today was to allow Cliff and Liz to experience the Basilica. Not only did they appreciate the splendor and beauty of the cathedral but we were also informed that there was no choir this morning so needed some translation as they were informed by the commentator to “heave it outta ya”.

Heading to Holyrood for lunch at the Tearoom we called ahead for reservations. I was put through to the owner since no tables were available and when I told her who I was … a table by the window was reserved for whenever we arrived! Cliff and Liz were impressed but truly my only influence was that I had grown up in Holyrood and apparently that guarantees a seat at the table! Cod tongues and another round of fish later we were heading to the beach when we passed someone I was sure I recognized.

Pat Hamlin is the lady who is responsible for “us”! In June 1978, David had just started his first engineering job and was staying at the Beach Cottage Hotel and Dining Room. In a happy coincidence that was also where I had a summer job as a waitress. Pat, the owner at that time, brought me out and introduced me to David as “a nice Newfoundland girl who could show him the sights”. A sight I was that day too after a twelve hour shift! Guess my rumpledness didn’t matter too much though! We followed her home and stopped for a short visit as we shared pictures of the kids and she shared the stories of our early years with Cliff and Liz. They listen to all this with characteristic good grace but some of these visits must surely be just a little long and mind-numbing for them. Even I tire and the stories are about me!

A toddle on the beach netted a reward! Finally, the caplin were in! We were quickly swept up in the excitement as locals gathered and the entrepreneurial spirit blossomed as local kids braved the cold Atlantic waters to fill their salt meat buckets to sell on the roadside.

The ocean alive with fish.

Cold doesn't cover it.

As kids we spent much of the summer gathered around the water but the woods and hills surrounding the bay were also a source of unending adventure and entertainment. One of the favorite exploits was a trip up “the mountain with the cross on it”. We seldom referred to it as George Cove Mountain, its proper name. It was a bit of a strenuous climb but the rewarding vistas at the top were worth the effort. The town has cleared a path now making the trip a little less demanding but a cold drink to enjoy at the top would have been a splendid idea. Enthusiasm is great but it sometimes overshadows foresight!

Liz at the top!

Back in St. John’s, Grant was busy barbecuing Cliff and Liz’s first feed of moose! It was delicious and although Cliff had previously made us promise to allow him only one no matter how he cried and begged … well let’s just say we were once again stuffed and ready to visit Mount Pearl Days. A city in its own right, it is a suburb of St. John’s and was celebrating its birthday with a local fare. We watched the festivities, waiting for a local group, Shanneyganock, to rock the evening to a close. What a time! These guys are incredibly talented, not just with traditional Newfoundland music but also with getting a party started. You simply can’t sit still as you listen and the standing ovation was started by… LIZ!

Shanneyganock!

Another glorious day on The Rock.

Day 17

Having fetched Cliff and Liz and following the advice of my cousin’s partner, the one on a horse we chased down the street yesterday, our first stop was Government House stables. The stable hand welcomed us to wait and assured us that George would be there in just a minute. He introduced us to Townshend, Percheron. Named after Fort Townshend, the base operation of the original Mounted Unit, which continues to be the Headquarters of the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary today, George’s horse stands 17.1 hands high and weighs 2,006 pounds. He’s a big boy! While we were admiring him the stable hand was telling us about how, as a kid, George had a pony his grandfather had given him. Now that wasn’t quite true since Uncle Con brought the pony home – to Grammie’s kitchen! No real matter though as I shared that I knew the story well since we shared that grandfather.

Shortly George arrived and I was once again (it’s happened now with several meetings) picked up and swung around in a wonderfully warm greeting. Yet another Newfoundlander who hasn’t changed much in my absence, other than to look more like Uncle Mac then I could believe.

George on Townshend

Waited 50 years for his first tattoo ... of his horse

Following that happy reunion, we were off to the Signal Hill Tattoo. In a grassy clearing amid the rocky outcroppings, students in old military uniforms reenact the drills that would have been a part of daily life for the Royal Newfoundland Regiment. The cannon and musket fire vie for attentions with the fife and drum to return us to Newfoundland circa 1790.

Cliff and Liz in their official entry.

Musket fire on the hill.

Readying the cannon.

The red coats are coming, the red coats are coming ...

After all that excitement we were off to Grant’s. He and Ruth had invited us to brunch for a feed of toutons – and what a feed it was! Starting with drinks, of course, and eating, yet again, my own body weight in food, we had a grand scoff. We all agreed it was food to last us for some time and as it turns out we went to bed without any supper – still full! Lord, there is a diet in my future!

Dragging our overstuffed little piglet bodies to the car, we brought Cliff and Liz to 633 South Side where they were completely charmed by dad’s sisters, as I knew they would be. The house, that really is a bit of a family museum, the babbling brook that runs naturally through the side yard and the dear, dear Aunts who are full of charm and clever tales. They were actually a little too amused and fond of the familiar teasing and stories of “Maggie as a little one”.

Next stop Cape Spear, the most easterly point in North America and often one of the coldest due to its location open to the North Atlantic! In keeping with most everything else on this vacation though, the day was blessed. Sunny warmth and the ever present ocean breezes combined for comfort with spectacular scenery. The waves crashed dramatically against the rugged shore as we wandered over the cliffs, mindful of the warnings to remain on the designated paths so as not to be one of the tourists to be swept out to sea by a rogue wave! Stopping at the restroom on the way down from the windy precipice, Liz made us all chuckle when she glanced in the mirror and shouted, “Oh no, my hair’s on backwards!” Even on a warm summer day the wind at Cape Spear is a little fierce!

Magnificant!

Furthest point east in North America

Back in the city we drifted to the other side of the Narrows and explored Ft. Amherst. Not nearly as dramatic as the Battery side, it nonetheless affords some beautiful vistas and completed the panorama of St. John’s harbor. We had no idea at the time, as we watched folks wander along the cliffs across the water, nor later as we saw search and rescue vehicles race through the downtown streets, that a 60 year old woman had drifted too close to an edge and fallen over the Signal Hill cliffs. The warning signs are posted for a reason folks!

By this time, though still not hungry, we were ready for a cool libation. During the never ending search for a downtown parking space Grant called and suggested we go to his house for a drink and head down to Middle Cove Beach in the age old search for caplin since they still hadn’t run.

I wish someone had taken a picture of our descent into Middle Cove. The truth was that we were all so totally captivated by the scene that appeared before us as we headed down to the bay that it just didn’t occur to anyone! The sun was setting and dusk was creeping up the cove. The lights flickered from a dozen beach fires. Some sat huddled around the fires, others stood at the water’s edge. The seascape appeared as if painted; as it had countless times before as Newfoundlanders anxiously await the first caplin run. Given the size of the crowd we were sure they had indeed arrived but discovered that there was a wedding group on the beach for a party. They had rented a bus and while not everyone on the beach was involved with the celebration, a rather sizable crew had gather at one end. The waves were magnificent and Grant and I were reminded of when we were children heading to the beach as the waves swelled and the crowds gathered. We would stand at the edge of the ocean and dare one another to “stay put” as the waves moved closer. Well some people never grow up, and before long the challenge was issued. As the waves continued their assault on the shore the risk of getting wet grew ever more likely. One minute I was standing next to Grant and with just one step back on the slippery, wet rocks I was flat on my back with a goose egg on the back of my head! Now just in case anyone is in the unlikely position to feel sorry for me – don’t! Anyone my age not smart enough to back off from a brotherly dare deserves what she gets! One of the good things about wedding parties on the beach is that they are able to provide ice. With a bag of said ice held in place, I dragged my wet, now lumpy hide back up the hill toward home. Grant, being a St. John Ambulance trainer, wouldn’t let me go to bed and hide my shame until he was certain there wasn’t any sign of concussion. So we stayed up and I beat the pants off him in cards – again! Sometimes pride cometh after a fall!

Looks friendly and peaceful, doesn't it?

It wasn't! Some people never grow up.

Day 16

This morning was a bit of a rough start. Wanting to get caught up on the blogging, email, etc. from our lackluster connectivity in Burin, wanting to let David sleep in and not wanting to keep Cliff and Liz waiting … breakfast didn’t happen. Once we picked them up we figured they would understand our quest for coffee so I was somewhat dismayed to find Cliff, by himself, at the curb, waving for us to park the car and come in the B & B. He gave us a parking permit and insisted that we come inside to meet Brenda, the lady who had cooked their breakfast at the B&B.

As they were having breakfast that morning Liz had become concerned that they would be late in meeting us, and glanced at her watch to check the time. Evidently the woman at the B&B noticed, and not wishing to appear rude, Liz explained that she was being picked up by friends and was concerned about keeping them waiting. Brenda asked who the friend was and Liz decided to try out the Horan connection. Evidently Brenda was impressed. She insisted that they bring us in.

I was greeted with a, “Come here ‘til I gives ya squeeze. Sit down now and let me cook ya some breakfast. You comes from good stock you do. I’m runnin’ around like a blue arse fly, but let me get set now and I’ll be back.” With that she was off which left to let us catch our breath from the whirlwind welcome. She had given us a parking pass (downtown parking is a bit of a nightmare) and told us to be sure that, “Your arse is in the seat before you takes it out of the window, since the police are shockin’.” What followed was a visit that lasted over an hour. It included fresh blueberry/partridgeberry pancakes, coffee and juice, stories, singing and much laughter. She was a hoot and I realized that The Narrows B & B was perfect! It was as close to a Newfie experience as Cliff and Liz could get. Brenda is delightful – of course it doesn’t hurt that she thinks I’m the greatest, even though she had never met me before … apparently me being Horan is all that’s required! Although David and I weren’t staying in the B & B, we left fully fed and ready to face the day.

We headed first to Devon House to show Cliff and Liz the art display. I can tell you now that the picture we mentioned before that we wanted them to see, is in fact not a painting at all but quilted fabric. I have never seen anything like it before and was delighted when Cliff and Liz shared my reaction. I think I’m ready to say that this is the most incredible piece of art work I have ever seen! Exquisite!

On to Signal Hill to experience the city, the sea, the beauty and the history of St. John’s in one easy stop. We meandered around the cliffs and followed the trails. Cliff and Liz have been so marvelous in their reactions! If they are not truly enjoying it as much as I’d hoped, they at least doing a great job of fooling me! Following the road under the hill we explored The Battery and Liz was hilarious as she ran ahead not knowing which way to look first. We could see as she stopped at one point on the trail ahead of us. She clearly didn’t know which way to point the camera and finally settled on every way as she would snap a picture and turn a step snap another picture, and then turn another step.

St. John's from Signal Hill
The tour guide showing the "come from aways"

Liz and me hiking

We went to the Duke of Duckworth for a round of pan fried cod for lunch. Cliff ordered just one piece but thankfully I was there to sort him out and assure him he wanted two … I have been appropriately thanked. As we left the pub, one of the Constabulary mounted unit went by on his horse. I have a cousin who serves as one of those (only) four officers and somehow Liz convinced me to “follow that horse! “ just in case it might have been him. We must have looked quite funny, as he was significantly far and we took off, one after the other, to chase a horse and rider through downtown! Surprisingly, we did eventually catch him and though it wasn’t George apparently as soon as I start to speak, ‘I look like the Horans” and he gave us all the information we needed to catch up to George when he was next scheduled to be out.

Parking? I am the only thing straight in this picture ... and there will be no comments!

A walk around Quidi Vidi lake ended the afternoon as they dropped me with my friend Dolores and we separated. I spent the rest of the day sharing wonderful stories with old friends, Kathy (Murray) and Don Corbett, who were not able to join us for the earlier reunion. They have been together since high school. They now have three beautiful children and have built a lovely home in Holyrood. It was another delightful evening. Reminding me again that it’s good to go back!

Liz and Maggie on a play date!

Imagine ... a house in the city ... at Quidi Vidi

(L-R) Trudy, Colleen, Maggie, Kathy, Dolores, Kathy

The challenge is on now though for Cliff, Liz and/or David to respond to this post. They stayed behind in St. John’s and continued to explore Bowring Park and George Street. So as long as what happens on George Street doesn’t stay on George Street, they will have to tell you what happened with them after I left. I understand that they had a great time and that David had another police encounter … but those aren’t my stories to tell.