Yesterday was our last day on the extraordinary island of Newfoundland. Our grand finale was to journey back up to Signal Hill, and for my dad and I to trek along a shore-side hiking trail. The view of St.John’s from across the harbor was a jaw-dropping. Green water rippled near the port’s mouth, and flocks of seagulls swarmed near nests. It was a shame that we never actually looked at any trail maps. Both me and my dad were clueless as to were the path ended. We assumed it wrapped back around to our starting position. The trail wasn’t to our plan, and we ended up popping out into a stacked village rigged by a sea-cliff. The streets were one lane, and the houses were tight-packed against each other. Neither of us knew where we were, and both of us searched for an outlet. In retrospect we all could have done a better job planning, because the rest of the family wasn’t aware of which trail we took. When they decided to wait for us in the car, the Cadillac and the camper were both locked. Both me and dad eventually found our way onto a familiar road, where we trudged through incoming fog. The rest of the family waited in the nearby “Chocolate Café,” where (according to them) they were waited on by a snooty French man (who kept messing up everyone’s orders).
We then hit the road, and arrived at the ferry close to 3:00. There was an all-you-can-eat buffet onboard the ship, and this time around we purchased a deluxe cabin. It was a smooth, and a lax eighteen hour endeavor.
P.S. Still no whales.