Newfoundland, chapter 9

Road Trip to Newfoundland

Day 9 - Feast of Cod

Tim Horton's was conveniently located a few blocks from the hotel. We were all hungry and stopped to pick up breakfast. Now I have noticed some things about Tim Horton's. Rarely are they neutral or dismal. They are almost always superb or slightly lacking. OK, some are rather neutral. This particular Tim Horton's, in the grand town of Lewisporte was excellent. I, along with my son, ran in to order food and drinks. The boy who served us looked to be 12 years old, but was clean, professional, polite and efficient. I can't say enough about his work. I was then passed to a girl, also looking like she was 12, who, in her clean pressed uniform smiled and thanked me. The food was neatly packaged and hot. I returned to the car to inform the others about the great service only to be met by blank stares and a reply, "Yeah, what did you get?".

We settled in for the long drive back to the west side. We had cod in the cooler and the beach at Pasadena on our mind. Since we were halfway back to Pasadena from Bonavista already, it was a much easier drive. We drifted through Deer Lake and down the shore to Pasadena, easily finding all the back roads. The beach was occupied by many swimmers and sunbathers. The restaurant was even open this time, a fun looking place with a bar and patio. We went down along the beach to a secluded area where I set up the camp stove and sliced the cod into fillets. Mindful of the ever present seagulls, I guarded the meat carefully.

 I dropped piece after succulent piece into a wad of butter in the sizzling pan. It looked good and smelled great. As it fried, we all took some time to enjoy the sandy shoreline. It is quite shallow and people could be seen standing quite a ways out. The weather was warm but we had no plan to swim. The fish browned around the edges after being flipped a few times and eventually I declared it fit to eat. As I doled it out, I dropped more fillets into the pan. We were going to eat it all for lunch; no salad, nor potatoes, nor garnishings of any kind. This was all about the cod. It was, to say the least, fantastic. They say when you order cod at the fish store or restaurant, you might get some other ground fish mislabeled as cod. Well, I guarantee this was the real deal.

Lunch consumed, dishes cleaned and stove packed away, we left the beach and headed for the pretty area around Lark Harbour. This quaint town lies on the ocean at the end of a long, winding, scenic road that follows Humber Arm. Most of these towns are merely fishing villages. That's what makes Newfoundland so special for me. I don't care for tourist towns and all the gimmicky trappings. I just want to see the scenery and meet the people who live there. We stopped several times to take pictures and breathe the warm, clean air. Some locations are calm and warm while some are noticeably cooler with tunneled winds. I imagined each picture I took as a postcard. Everywhere is spectacular in Newfoundland, from the mountains to the sea, the dense forests to the scrubby barrens. Each zone is beautiful in its own particular way. And to think we only saw a part of the province. We missed out on the Avalon, St. Johns, the south coast, Buchans, and a side trip to St. Pierre, the French islands. They will be seen, at a later date.

The sightseeing complete, it was time to bid adieu to Corner Brook, Gros Morne and Deer Lake, and head down to Port Aux Basques to spend a day exploring and finally to leave on the ferry. The two hour drive took us though beautiful mountains with wispy clouds and grassy meadows. At the end of the highway was Port Aux Basques. We had reservations at St. Christopher's Hotel, perhaps the biggest hotel in town, set high upon a hill. We checked in and found our room down the far end of the hall. Conveniently, there was laundry on the same floor and we did two loads. Tired and settled, we decided to eat at the hotel in what looked like an inviting dining room. It felt odd though sitting in this restaurant looking out a back window at a hillocky mound. I expressed my disbelief that they would build a hotel, on a hill overlooking the harbour and face the restaurant out back. Later that evening we overheard the waitress explain to others that when the hotel was built, the plans were created in Japan, and subsequent sections prefabricated. Unfortunately, Japanese plans, like writing I suppose, are reversed, so the hotel was actually built in reverse. This certainly explained why we did not face the ocean. Dinner came. I ordered some kind of wild mushroom and moose pasta. I could barely chew the meat. The pasta was mushy and the sauce was unusual, to say the least. My wife also groaned with displeasure over her roast beef. This was perhaps the worst dinner we had eaten on the trip.

Later that evening, my son announced that the toilet was plugged. I called the front desk and asked, "Could you please send a maintenance worker up with a plunger, the toilet is plugged." I was told, "OK". About ten minutes later I received a call indicating that, "We lent the plunger to someone and it hasn't been returned. We will fix it tomorrow when we get the plunger back." Now if anyone knows my family, and that is mainly me and my son, that is a no go. I went to the front desk and calmly explained that we need the toilet and there must be another plunger. Unlike the great service at Tim Horton's, the desk clerk argued that she didn't know where the plunger was and couldn't help. Now, she obviously doesn't know the limits of my patience, but denying me a working toilet brought out a side of me few would care to see. I mean that figuratively, of course. I suggested she contact a friend who may have a spare plunger and borrow it for the evening. A half hour later, the manager, a very nice lady, knocked on my door sporting a plunger held high in the air like an Olympic torch. I graciously thanked her and went about maintaining the lavatory myself. All were relieved, so to speak. Beers were opened and consumed in celebration without the fear and anxiety that comes with facility restraint.

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