| The Road to Terra Nova Newfoundland 2007 |
| I found myself on a plane, waiting on the runway to take off. Up till this moment, I hadn’t allowed myself to believe this was really happening. Sitting down at the kitchen table some weeks ago, I figured out it was going to cost me over $1600 just to travel to and from Newfoundland. What a shock! I rapidly booked a cheap flight from Continental and set out to find a decent price on a rental car. There are none to be had in St. John’s in August, it seems. Much weeping and gnashing of teeth yielded a decent rental car at twice what I was used to paying here, but cheaper than any others I had checked out. After getting to the airport without too much hassle, Vic dropped me off at the Continental terminal in Newark, New Jersey. He looked a little less hassled and worried this year, but still sent out the I-don’t-want-you-to-go vibes. My heart strings sounded because we were originally supposed to go together. A quick hug and kiss was merciful, as I think I would have cried if I’d stayed there any longer. Separate vacations suck. At the terminal, I had to wait in a line that said “New Delhi” to have my baggage checked in. Hey, Newfoundland’s another world here, apparently. After going through Security, I excitedly walked down the long hallway, taking advantage of the moving sidewalk. About halfway down the corridor, they announced that the flight would be at least 2 hours delayed. Luckily, I was right in front of the bookstore, so I hopped off and purchased The Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards. Armed with my Sodoku and the book, I ambled to the end of the corridor and down the elevator to the boarding area. The plane held only 47 people and was only half-full this evening. Every so often they’d announce that the flights were going to be later and later. We eventually left three and a half hours late. As we waited, we chatted to our boarding area mates. Mary C. sat next to me and asked for the time. She had a southern accent and I asked why she was going to Newfoundland. She surprised me by explaining she married a Newfoundlander and lives in Kelligrews (of the Soiree fame). Wendy from Kentucky was winging her way home from Paris and had been up for about 18 hours already. Not wanting to sit down for fear she’d fall asleep and miss her flight, she stood there telling us about her year at Dalhousie in Halifax teaching French. She works at the University of Kentucky teaching French, but knew a whole lot about Newfoundland and Canada. In fact, she made a joke about Confederation and I laughed, but not Mary C. Wendy made a quip about this woman from Philadelphia who knew more about Newfoundland than someone who lives there. Mary C was not fazed and carried on the conversation without missing a beat. Turns out there was a lot more I knew about Newfoundland than she who had lived there since 2002. She laughed it off, “Well I guess I am the stereotypical American who knows nothing about Canada.” I hated to admit it, but I guess she was right. Most Americans know very little about Canada. But why would a permanent resident of Canada be proud of this???? I’d KILL to be a permanent resident of Canada and would research like mad to know something more than where it is on the map. She had never read any of the books about Newfoundland or from any Newfoundland authors, hadn’t been to the Rooms to check out the history, hadn’t been anyplace other than St. John’s and the Conception Bay South area. Wendy and I were dumbfounded and had a grand time discussing Wayne Johnston, Bernice Morgan, Michael Crummey and other Newfoundland authors. I was sad to see Wendy go when her 7:00 PM flight was called to board at 10:30 PM. Mary C. and I were joined by Garry and Bett, who were going to St. John’s for a family visit. Bett had grown up long ago in the Battery, her father and brothers fishing for a living. Her young years had been spent in Topsail, in a house overlooking Conception Bay. Her mother had picked up and moved to St. John’s when lightning struck their house one month when her husband was out fishing. She was scared to death to remain there after having seen the scorched earth at the corner of the house. Her brothers had taken over the fishing out from their wharf when her dad retired, but had become pilots when the cod Moratorium went into effect. Bett collects the American states quarters for her grandchildren and I promised to keep my eye out for the ones she needs to complete her collections. They were the sweetest people! From time to time, the young couple behind me would take bets from the other young couple across from them as to the time we would eventually leave. They were really funny! Every so often, a man from Denver would come by and announce the latest news from the airline. He was the only one that had the gumption to keep going back to ask. He was going to Newfoundland on business but intending to take a few days vacation there. Despite the 3+ hour wait, no one waiting with us complained bitterly. There was nothing the airline could do. The whole thing was weather-related, a storm over the Pennsylvania/Maryland border was keeping the planes we needed, grounded in South Carolina. Being a bit annoyed with Mary C for not knowing more about her adopted country, I took to reading The Memory Keeper’s Daughter. By the time we got on the plane a bit after midnight, I had finished about a third of the book! |
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| The tiny plane held 47 people but was only half-full do to the delays, I guess. The stewardess was pleasant but obviously tired, having been sitting in the plane on the runway in South Carolina the whole time we were waiting! We got settled in and took off about 12:30 AM, almost the time we were supposed to arrive if we hadn’t been delayed. The flight was fine and the pilot told us he was trying to make up a bit for lost time on the way to St. John’s. My seat was right next to the kitchen area and the stewardess and I chatted about layovers, schedules, stress relievers, etc. I read a bit more of my book and set my watch an hour and a half ahead to be on NFLD time when we landed. I was way too tired to work on the Sodoku. |
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| It was dark, dark, dark for most of the trip after an hour of following the lights along the coast/rivers/highways. All of a sudden, a glow appeared on the horizon – St. John’s!!!!! The flight was fairly smooth till then. As soon as St. John’s appeared the ride got very bumpy – typical for this flight because of the updrafts from the cliffs I guess. I was excited to see the lights of the city and hoped that Sandy had been able to get the message that the flight was delayed. She had emailed me earlier in the week telling me that she’d pick me up at the airport. What a nice gesture! I owe her for sure after this long delay. Customs was easy, the officials pleasant, and my first stamp on my brandly new passport was St. John’s, NL, Canada! No questions, except where was I staying and for how long. Collected the one bag I had checked through and there was Sandy, right where she said she’d be! We stopped at Tim’s for a coffee and a ham & cheese biscuit for breakfast and looked at the sun trying to rise through the clouds surrounding us. We decided to take a drive up Signal Hill to watch the sunrise, but unless you were awake in the dark, you’d not have been able to identify it as dawn. Dull, gray, cold & windy, barely visible anything, including the sun. But the city sure did look nice lit up in the half-dark! |
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| Day 1. Trying to leave (you are here!) Day 2. Signal Hill Day 3 & 4. Cape Spear and Petty Harbour Day 5. St. John's Harbour Day 6. Sandy, Seamus & Quidi Vidi Day 7. Fogged In Day 8. Bonnie, Petty Harbour and Capelin |
| Day 9. On the Road to Terra Nova Day 9. Festival Night 1& 2 Day 10. Recording &Podcasting Day 11. Home again! Day 12 Excursion Round the Bay Day 13. Meeting new friends Day 14. So Hard to Say Goodbye |
| Fort Amherst at dawn |
| The sun was trying its darndest to rise thru the cloud cover |
| The lights of the city as a background for Cabot Tower at dawn. We were the only car up there! |