I write today, on day three of our Newfoundland adventure. We find ourselves at Gros Morne National Park on the west coast of Nfld. We are camping at a sight called Green Point which is one of many campsites along the 300km or so of national park land. The site itself lies between a rocky beach and a boreal forest. I am writing from inside the camper as we were scared poopless by a very handsome but overly-confident and curious black fox: we heard noises in the brush so I grabbed the torch and scanned till I saw these red, gleaming eyes staring back at me at then disappear and the bugger ran right into our campsite stopped only by the light of the torch which luckily found him again. He stopped, stared us down and then slunk off into the darkness. So we got the eff out of dodge and ran into our DOE otherwise known as Bertha, however the d and g have fallen off the front of the hood. It was a pity though cos the fire was a’ rager!
That was pretty long-winded, but the point is: what the crap am I gonna do when it’s like a grizzly bear or something staring us down next time? I’ll be pretty goddam useless, that’s for sure. I think my best bet would be to throw Amy into its path and run. I can only hope I have the presence of mind to do so when the time comes.
All right, so today was a driving day – about 6 hours or so –we drove from the very top of the northern peninsula from a place called At Anthony where you can allegedly “see icebergs float by on the wake of a humpback whale whilst puffins fly by as seals jump through flaming hoops” which, may all be true, if you are lucky enough to find yourself there on a day when the fog isn’t as thick as pea soup. Needless to say, we saw none of the above.
We did, however get to see the 1000-year-old ruins of what was the first European contact with North America ever. That is, the World heritage excavation sight of the Viking landings from around 1000 AD. Leif Erickson and his Viking pals landed her from Iceland to see what they could find in the way of raw materials. The sight is made up of visibly raised grassy mounds that frame what once was a small Viking village. Dwellings, smelting huts for ironwork, sewing huts etc. it totally blew my mind that I was standing where they once were 1000 years ago. What so impressed me was how advanced and industrious these people were even back then.
Before driving to Green point, we stopped in at a place called Cow Head – the name for which, I must say, I do not care for – we had heard that the village was having lobster fest and when we arrived, we found all of the sweetest white-haired little old church ladies cooking up tens of lobsters for both hungry tourists and locals alike. It was amazing; they made a mean lobster and garlic butter as well as an array of salads and a spread of scones and jams for dessert. It was a magnificent feast, and watching all of these adorable, little church ladies running around, made my heart explode!
