Camping in Gros Morne National Park. The first Viking settlement near St. Anthony from about 1000AD, where Leif Ericsson was. There’s an iceberg in the distance. And a picture of one of many moose.
What a pleasant day today—the kind that sneaks up and gives you an affectionate kiss on the cheek. The rain stopped somewhere in the night and woke to sun and a thick blanket of dew on the windows. Wes and I took a long walk through the town early this morning, before letting him swim and fetch sticks in the cold water until he was a shivering mess. So, we warmed up with a long hike along the rugged coast and did our best not to fall in. Some small icebergs were a mere hint of the possibilities that may float by in the days and weeks to come. Beyond that, I met a few nice people in town that were helpful in my continuing search for a house in which to live.
Arrived Newfoundland yesterday after a seven hour ferry ride. Making the long drive to St. John’s, the furthest point east, before meandering my way back along the coast from there. Made it through Wreckhouse, the fitting name of a section of highway that posts the highest winds of anywhere in North America. With the winds behind me, now I gotta look out for moose.
15,000 miles and 4 1/2 months later, I have finally arrived Sydney, Nova Scotia and the long boat to Newfoundland. Departing in the morning. Pictures are from camping near Inverness beach, square dancing at West Mabou Hall, and the Cape Breton Highlands.
Listen to this! I recorded some of the great fiddle playing during the dance.
Camping and exploring Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park, Maine for three or four days. The sun is out now, and so go we.