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"Arn? Narn."

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Category Archives: Travel

All things considered, I’d rather be in St. John’s.

19 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Newfoundland, Travel

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Arn? Narn.

Nine years ago today, I was purchasing gear and planning for my first trip to Newfoundland. Little did I know how transforming a journey it would become. I would be leaving in just four months for this then new adventure. And that adventure has continued nine years later.

How was I to know what effect it would have on me? I certainly did not expect it to change me. How foolish was that? One does not invest so much time and effort, passion, and dreams without it having a profound effect. No, not at all.

      St. John’s, Newfoundland.

There isn’t day that goes by that I don’t think about Newfoundland and everything I experienced while working on Arn? Narn. Whether it’s the incredible land and sea, its people, the music, the photos I took which are permanently fixed in my memory, I can’t get it out of my mind.

So, what is the “cure” for that? Do I need an intervention? An attitude adjustment? I’m not complaining, mind you. I’m just saying this has taken up permanent residence in my head.

All along the process of bringing this book to market, I’ve thought about doing a book signing in Newfoundland. The more I think about it, the more I’d like to do it. I’ve certainly missed the all-important Christmas season to do that, but truthfully, that could have never happened. So now, I’ve got to figure how to get my sorry butt up there. It would be good to visit with my friends and just chill, both literally and figuratively, (it gets a bit cold in winter), in Newfoundland. Hey, it’s a tough job, but…

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Menage a Wha?

06 Monday Aug 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Geography, Newfoundland, Photography, Travel

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Arn? Narn., Newfoundland

(Warning: content addresses adult themes – not really – and no bad photos.)

It’s not like that all. We are still together and in love with each other, still! But for the previous three years, I’d been carrying on an affair, right out in the open, thank you very much, and I was still happily married.

For those out there with some prurient interest in where this is going, check out another blog. It’s not like that at all. I’d fallen in love with Newfoundland the moment I stepped off the plane to start the photography on what was to become Arn? Narn. I carried on this affair in front of my long-suffering wife, subjecting her to stories of wonderful people, incredible land, beautiful seas, marvelous skies, great music, etc. and still she didn’t kick me to the curb. No doubt there were times she probably wanted to, but discretion and propriety saved the day, for me at least.

What’s not to love? (citypictures.net)

This was not your typical sleazy affair. There was no other woman. There was just this land to which I felt strongly attracted. If Newfoundland had been a person, yes, damn straight, I would have moved right in. I still feel that way. Yet, I loved (and still do) my wife. I won’t leave her, but I just might take her with me! Yeah, it’s that cool and my wife is down with that.

So, now as I drive Carla around the province, meeting and talking with locals, even dancing, kicking back to a new, slower tempo, she’s getting it. The land and sea are beginning to speak to her and she is responding. It’s now beginning to make sense. Earlier in this blog, I wrote about Gerard saying Newfoundland was “The Land of Low Anxiety.” It seeps into you. You know in your bones, your soul, it’s right. And now, so does Carla.

Low anxiety indeed! (citypictures.org)

We fantasize about moving up there. We even casually look at real estate. Financially, it’s in our reach, but if it were to happen, it wouldn’t be in the near future, no, no, not the short term. It’s a dream at this point.

She has met my “mistress” and realized it is not a competition. It is meant for us both to share. And we’re just starting.

Related articles
  • A baby takes nine months; a book – maybe nine years! (arnnarn.com)

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In which I get it right.

02 Thursday Aug 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Food, Geography, Travel

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The Shipping News

As I wrote earlier, when we were sitting in the airport, my lovely bride happened upon a postcard for a perfectly wonderful B&B. And as I wrote, I through my infinite wisdom had booked us for three nights in this wonderful place. Am I good or what?

We are now on our way to this wonderful Newfoundland version of Brigadoon, but without bagpipes. Since we are departing from the southern tip of the Avalon Peninsula and driving up to Port Rexton near Trinity, about 260 miles. Not a bad drive, 4-5 hours with stops especially if we can find a Tim Horton’s.

Typical Newfoundland bog. (eoearth.org.)

Newfoundland has been settled almost exclusively on the coast line. It is a very big coast. As we drive from Burin north, we travel mostly inland. Lots of bogs, ponds, no moose sightings, and lots of rocks and birch trees. Since everything revolved around fishing, there is hardly anything resembling a town. This is not to say no one lives out there. We pass small enclaves of homes along the way. Just what they do for employment is something we haven’t been able to determine. Still, I wouldn’t mind living there either.

As we head towards that days destination, we start to see more small towns. They are different from the outports since they are still a ways inland from the water. But it lets us know we’re almost there. And then we crest a hill and a sign for our destination appears. Hot damn! This is where I really start to look like I know what I’m doing on this trip. Fisher’s Loft is even better in real life than the beautiful image on their postcard. The views are spectacular and it’s getting on towards dinner.

We check in to our room (it’s a suite!) with an incredible vista of the bay with some small islands in it. In the distant is a fog partially covering a small mountain/hill(?) – beautiful whatever its nomenclature. We clean up and go downstairs to enjoy a drink on the front porch of the main building. At the bar is a picture of Kevin Spacey and the entire crew of the film The Shipping News. They stayed there. Oh, yes, this is getting better by the minute.

Fisher’s Loft (been-seen.com)

We finish our drinks and head into the dining room. OK, this is getting ridiculous. The dining room is decorated beautifully with hand-made furniture from a local craftsman. His furniture also occupies our room. Wait, it gets even better.

The menus arrive and this is foodie heaven. And locavore heaven. They grow all their own produce. And wine heaven. Oh hell, it’s just heaven! And this is just dinner! We almost can’t wait for breakfast. The food is marvelous.

Breakfast doesn’t disappoint – along with regular fare, there are fresh pastries from the oven and partridgeberry jam. I wrote about partridgeberry jam in an earlier post, but it bears repeating. This jam is incredible.

I don’t want to leave. I wonder if they need a groundskeeper!

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  • Partridgeberry jam: Nectar of the Gods. (arnnarn.com)

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A baby takes nine months; a book – maybe nine years!

01 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Observations, Photography, Travel

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Arn? Narn., Newfoundland

All the good stuff that goes into conceiving a child is great. It’s the fodder of legends, songs, stories, movies, and art. And it only takes nine months. Then the hard work begins, years of being a parent which never really end even when they’re grown and move out. Nine months to the start and years to the conclusion.

Ah, but a book? If you’re writing about a topical event, it’s amazing how quickly such a tome can be brought to market. Breathtakingly fast. It was that way even before all the technological advances we enjoy today occurred. Now it seems like they spring up as fast as mushrooms after a summer rain.

However, if it’s a novel, an art book, educational, whatever, the gestation period can be agonizingly long. And that’s just to finish it. Someone has to publish it. If not you, who then?

The idea for my book Arn? Narn. was conceived in 2003. I spent a year researching Newfoundland, the type of clothes I would need when up there (in winter!), a camera bag that would hold all my equipment and still fit in the overhead bin of a plane, flights and car rentals, creating an itinerary around this very large island (thank God for the help of soon-to-be Newfoundland friends), and blah, blah, blah, so much more.

Newfoundland. (heritage.nf.ca)

Finally a year later, I was ready to go up there and start photographing. It was an incredible two weeks. Traveling alone as a stranger in a strange but wonderful land was transformative. The work I did while there would keep me busy for many months.

As so often happens, what I photographed was what I wanted but sadly not what I needed. There was a story here that had to be told and this wasn’t it. So unhappily biting the bullet (oh, poor, poor, pitiful me), I went back up again one year later.

For three weeks this time, I again traveled alone throughout the province and did find the story that I knew had to be there. Now it all made sense. I could happily go home with the material I needed to do this properly.

So for the next two years, I worked in the darkroom producing the prints that would eventually become this book. I would spend more hours doing that than I had spent in five weeks in Newfoundland. I also had to write the narrative explaining what one would be seeing when they held in their hands Arn? Narn. That was to be one of the hardest parts of this whole project.

So, now four years after the idea was born, it was more or less completed. I went back up a third time, but with my wife with me. Check out some of the previous posts for that visit. I did photograph (hell, my wife took more pictures than me!), but I had all I needed for the book, so nothing was added from that trip. What I did need though was an agent or a publisher.

Finding that would take four more years. In that time, much was learned about this process so that the next book should not take quite as long. Now, just weeks away from publication, Arn? Narn.will be nine years in the making. That’s 63 in dog years!

Throughout those years, it has been a period of hope, expectations, disappointments, learning, hard work beyond the actual production of the book, and joy. This book, this baby of mine, will come into the world on October 1, 2012. Please join me in welcoming it.

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Watching the fog roll around and drinking wine.

26 Thursday Jul 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, Travel

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Fog

After the initial concussion of our cottage by the bay, Carla and I are acting like we live there. We could do this – downsize and do it here. We don’t need all: the clothes, furniture, tchotchkes, appliances, whatever that we have. This is life simplified. This is life without pretense, life without malls, life without Walmart. This is good.

We go to the general store up the road for all the immediate essentials we need. We get to know the shopkeeper by name. That’s easy – this is Newfoundland after all. How many times have I said that? But it’s true. We chat daily and she shares with us her nephew is in a band (all teenagers) and we ought to buy their new CD. We do. It’s really good! No, it’s very good. The group is called Eventide and they’ve recorded a number of traditional Newfoundland folk songs. We play it a lot. Even the record store in St. John’s carries it. How cool is that?

Eventide CD (freds.nf.net)

Newfoundland doesn’t have some of the hangups the US does. Admittedly, there are some states which are more liberal than others, but I’m not talking politically. I’m talking about what are reasonable expectations. If you want to buy hard liquor along with wine and beer, go to the government store for the best selection. If you just want to buy some beer or some wine, hell, then just go to the general store and get some. What’s the big deal?

It was no big deal. It was late in the afternoon, we had done about as much traveling as we wanted to, so off to the general store and pick up a bottle or two of wine. If you’re a practicing locavore, try the Canadian Jackson Trigg wine, it’s surprisingly good and affordable. So we did. Or if you’re into beer, Quidi Vidi brewery out of St. John ‘s makes some mighty fine brews. Yes, I can attest to imbibing both of those.

Oh, yeah, good stuff. (signalblog.ca)

With our larder thus and properly stocked, we went home. It was just as well. It was getting on to dusk and a fog was rolling in. Time to get out on the porch, crack open a bottle of wine, sit back, listen to the waves, watch the fog make everything look mysterious and romantic at the same time and very much alive.

Yes, life is good.

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Once more into the breach dear friends, once more!

23 Monday Jul 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in History, Newfoundland, Travel

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Avalon Peninsula, Grand Banks, Marystown

We make our plans to head once more into the… yeah, right. (celluloidheroesreviews.com)

Rested, fed, and eager to get going, we head out of St. John’s to the Burin Peninsula. This is the only place we go that I haven’t been to, so it will be a new adventure for me as well. This will take the better part of the day as it’s on the southern most tip of the larger Avalon Peninsula, right off of the Grand Banks.

The Grand Banks in happier days had some of the best cod fishing in Newfoundland. So, when we arrive, we see many of the same scenes I witnessed in my earlier trips. But it was new to Carla and my photos while accurate, could not prepare anyone for the stark reality of the moratorium’s effect. Fishing like everywhere else in the province was non-existent. It was the same story told over again.

Marystown (on the Burin), a formerly active shipbuilding community, had not had any new contracts for quite some time and was suffering because of that as well. There was some hope of a couple of government contracts, but they had yet to be decided upon. If they were to happen, it would be a godsend for that community.

Still, with all the hardship these people have endured, the Newfoundland spirit of generosity, friendliness, and hospitality was always there, ready without any need of encouragement. It really is who they are.

So we arrived to our, I think, beautiful, little cottage right on the bay. I could have moved in and stayed forever right then. I could have. Unfortunately, Carla was not as impressed as I was. It was to be a rather quiet night.

This is it. Oh, yeah, I could stay here. (trails.com)

Before I write any more, let me recap our trip thus far: we arrive very late or very early depending on your POV and get a foul-mouthed but entertaining, cab driver to take us hastily to our first night’s stay; our B&B has locked us out of our room and we can’t reach the owners; there aren’t any rooms at any inns that night in St. John’s; we dozed in the lobby of a hotel; and now this, all in two days. Not exactly the auspicious beginning I had hoped for. I’m wondering how soon can I book us a flight out of there. This is not good. All the points I had scored at the airport were now gone like wasted political capital. Re-election didn’t look so good right now.

But to paraphrase a Cat Stevens song, “Morning had broken”, and so did her mood. It was in fact quite different. She was starting to really like our little house on the water. We had stopped at a market for provisions on our way in so I set about to making some coffee, sitting out on the front porch, looking at the fog over the water, and thinking, yes, I could very easily stay here. Oh, if only. Maybe one day.

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Hi Ho all over again…Part 2

19 Thursday Jul 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Travel

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Newfoundland

After our momentous arrival in St. John’s, daylight has finally arrived and we leave the hotel, but not before tipping generously the still on-duty, unbelievably helpful concierge. We grab a taxi and head over to the airport. It is still a bit too early as the car rental counters aren’t open yet, so we just sort of sit around looking at brochures and such.

Carla wandered off to find new reading materials and pamphlets, whatever is on the racks for tourists such as her. I, an inveterate snob, no longer consider myself a tourist in Newfoundland. Hey, I’ve been “screeched.” She returns with a small pile of them.

As she’s sifting through them, she comes a cross a large postcard for a beautiful, pastoral looking B&B, photographed in a soft, romantic fog. (By the way, fog can make almost anything and anyplace look good.) She’s smitten by it. “Look at this,” she says. “Oh, this is perfect.” I, being the perfect husband, say “Yes it is. We’re staying there later on the trip.” She thinks I’m joking as I am prone to do. Not this time, I assure her. I’ve booked us there for three nights. As I wrote in the previous post, major points here! Carla’s getting excited.

Something to get excited about alright. (bedbreakfasthome.com)

The car rental counter opens, we get our car and head out. As it is still early and we are somewhat famished, we find the nearest Tim Horton‘s and indulge in good coffee and less than nourishing donut-related pastries. Finally, it’s late enough in the morning to find out why there was no room at the inn last night.

(waymarking.com)               It’s always safe at Tim Horton’s.

We raise the proprietors of our B&B and explain what happened. They check their books and determine that the person who took our reservation booked us for arriving that night. She probably got confused when I told her we were arriving very early that morning. The hosts could not be more apologetic and told us to come right over. They would get a room ready for us to crash in if we wanted to while they got our proper room ready. We got in, crashed and slept well for the next few hours. Our hosts would move all our stuff to the right room while we were out doing whatever we would do.

What we were going to do was get some lunch, show Carla around and meet up later with my photographer friend Randy and his wife Vickie for dinner. Food, drink, and rest are amazing for what they can do for the body and spirit. Thus fortified, we were ready for St. John’s, Newfoundland, and what new adventures were in front of us.

Dinner tonight, road trip tomorrow, and Burin by late afternoon. It’s good to be back.

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Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to… (with apologies to Snow White and her minions, not to mention Steve McQueen).

16 Monday Jul 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Travel

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In the estimation of my wife, I had become obsessed with Newfoundland. Yeah, alright, it’s true. (Could an intervention be far behind?) The two trips up there had been transformative experiences for me. Now that she had seen what I had seen, she wanted to go there. Who was I to argue?

Planning the trip was easy as she wanted to go to the places to where I’d been. Since we did not have as much time as I did originally, I planned a truncated version which I felt would give her good exposure to this land with which I’d fallen in love. Keepin’ my fingers crossed!

Our flight would get us into St. John’s well after midnight, so we would have to take a taxi to the B&B I’d booked. I stayed there on each previous trip as my starting point and didn’t see any reason to change that. Since we would be arriving late, they left me the punch-key code to get in and our room key outside our room. Cool.

As it was so late, the car rental counters were closed until later that morning. We would have to come back then and pick up our car. So, we hailed a taxi and were treated to a rapid, Bullitt-(the movie) like trip downtown. The driver was a typical friendly Newfoundlander and quite fond of using the f-word. “F” this, “F” that, entertaining to a point, but losing its charm halfway there.

(auto.howstuffworks.com)                 Our driver only thought he was Steve McQueen.

We arrive at the B&B around 1:30 AM. I punch in the code, go upstairs, schlepping the luggage up (three flights!) to our room, look for the key, and hear snoring…in our room! Since I didn’t book a semi-private room, this could not be right. I tried calling the owners several times, leaving messages, but to no avail.

But we were downtown and just a block or two away from a large hotel. Down three flights with the luggage and out on to the street. Off we went to see if there was any room at the inn. Down a hill, up a hill with our luggage in tow. (Do you think I’m making a really good impression on my wife at this point? Surly is not one of her more attractive traits.) We enter the hotel and go to the reception desk and ask for a room. No, there was no room at this inn. There was a Harley Davidson convention in town and all the rooms were booked.

Sort of like this. (examiner.com)

However, this being Newfoundland, the uber-friendly concierge started calling all, and I do mean all, the other hotels and B&B’s in town in an effort to get us lodging for the night. At 2:00 in the morning! But to no avail. The bikers weren’t the only convention in town. The other convention could have been Beanie Baby collectors for all I cared. (No, this was not starting out at all as I planned and my wife was quickly resenting this trip.)

The concierge was quite apologetic. He suggested we could leave our bags with him and go further downtown (four blocks) for food and music if we were so inclined. My wife was a bit apprehensive, no, a lot, about walking in a dark city at 2:30 in the morning. We both tried to reassure her this was OK. How could anything could be open at this hour? Hah! This is St. John’s! Off we went.

Within a couple of blocks, music of all types could be heard. People were out and about having a fine time. Before long, so were we. We got food and drink, listened to some music, and wandered safely back to the hotel where we were invited to rest in the lobby (!) until morning. Try that anywhere else and you’ll be arrested for vagrancy! In Newfoundland, you are truly welcome and they’ll go out of their way to prove it.

Later that morning, we’ll go to the airport to get our car, where I’ll make major points!

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Whoa, there’s a moose, and another, and finally St. John’s!

02 Wednesday May 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Observations, Photography, Travel

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Gander, Newfoundland, St. John's

After escaping the clutches of the bi-churchal minister, I am now on solid ground once again, figuratively speaking, and heading back to St. John’s. I heard of a short cut that will take two hours off my impending twelve+ hour drive. Should I take it? I’ve been warned that it is not a particularly well paved road, well, not very much pavement at all – gravel really, it might be muddy and isn’t well-traveled this time if year so if you get stuck which is a very real possibility, nay probability, you could be there for a day or two, but it’s your choice. Hell, that’s no choice, that’s a challenge. I’m taking the long way home!

Yeah, right! (en.wikipedia.com)

The way I figure it, if I speed, which I will, if I continue straight through, I’ll be driving in prime moose-dodge-’em time – at speed, at night, and on the TCH, (Trans Canada Highway). Not wanting to make the acquaintance of one so large, so heavy and a poor conversationalist from what I’ve heard, I decide that I’ll probably stop for the night somewhere around Gander, a good part of the trip would be now be behind me. When you’re in a hurry, and I really wasn’t, but there was no photography planned for this leg of the trip, – I just didn’t want to drive for twelve + hours, the scenery, however beautiful, becomes secondary to the task of getting there.

I’m sailing along. Yes, speeding, but I told you I would. Fueled by chocolate covered crackers and the occasional Tim Horton‘s, I’m making some serious time. I get to Gander considerably sooner than I thought, ahh, the joys of speeding and not getting caught, and make an executive decision. Moose, be damned, I going for it all. This is the big one!

Oh, yeah! (ahwooga.com)

So, I stop for refueling – both the car and me. The car gets gas and so will I later from the food at the rest stop. Should have stayed with the chocolate covered crackers. But I endure, I must, can’t stop, have to get to St. John’s – there’s a tall, cold beer with my name on it waiting patiently for me at Christian’s Pub. Actually, the beer had some friends waiting for me too and I would get to meet them as well.

Wait, what’s that up ahead? That signpost? Sorry, channeling “Twiight Zone” for a moment. Lights! and not in the rear view mirror either. It’s St. John’s! Yes! Made it and not in twelve hours! Not in eleven hours! No, just about ten and half! I did speed. A lot. That’s 902 miles worth of speeding. I didn’t hit any moose, didn’t get stopped by the RMCP, “No, officer, I didn’t realize I was going that fast.”, and made it back in time for Happy Hour, which by the way in St. John’s is anytime from opening to closing. Finally, off the road, out of the car, and back in the warm embrace of St. John’s.

Tomorrow will be laundry, packing, FedEx, and getting ready to go back to the states. It’ll be busy, but I’ll also get to visit with Randy (my photographer friend) and his wife Vicki once more before I leave. The amount of help and guidance they provided has been invaluable and much appreciated. I will also see Bren, my 84 year old wood- turning friend, again before my departure. Bren was the first Newfoundlander but not the last to invite this stranger in for tea. I will miss them and all the other new friends made while up here. I will be back.

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Kicking back at Red’s Lounge, meeting the locals, being told where to go (in the nicest way possible, this is Newfoundland after all), and having my first beer in Ramea. Part 1.

27 Tuesday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, Humor, Observations, Travel

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Ramea

When traveling, one of the best ways to get the feel, the flavor, and the social climate of a new locale is to visit the local watering hole. And on Ramea. the best one is Red’s Lounge. Red’s being the best bar/lounge is not only my opinion, it’s also the opinion of all the locals and they should know. It wins hands down and the reason is quite simple – it’s the only bar on Ramea. And though it’s the only pub on the island, it’s not open everyday or all hours. The owner works at an oil company and that job comes first. Priorities – we all have them but I wish his matched mine better.

As in my trip to Fogo Island a week earlier, I needed to get to know the “powers-that-be” in Ramea. Since whoever wore the mantle of he/she-that-counts-as-the-big-cheese-or-poobah-of-the-island was not to be found, I did the next best thing. I went to Red’s. it was lunchtime after all and the light wouldn’t be good until 2:00 PM. Ahhh, the life of the photographer!

Certainly in an outport/island such as Ramea, a stranger stands out even if they’re not in a bar. As in the TV show “Cheers”, everyone knows your name and it wasn’t long before almost everyone knew mine. Hell, you walk into any place with cameras dangling all over you and people look up and take notice.

Before long, maybe at least two or three minutes(!), I was being “interrogated” by the locals. Actually, befriended is a much, much better description but not as humorous. The first of my “interrogators”, sorry,that’s friends, was Gerard. Gerard, born and raised on Ramea, was thrilled to have someone new to talk with. As in any bar anywhere, it’s the same people and the same stories, over and over again. I was going to be entertainment or least a source of new stories. Hey, their stories were new to me! That should count for something.

  So, over a beer or two, maybe three of the locally brewed Quidi Vidi variety, Gerard filled me on all the poop. Who was who in the bar, what people did, local color, etc. For me, he was a font of information – some of it was useful immediately, some not until later that day, but I was not to know that at the time. However, Red’s was to become my base of local operations for the time I would be there. In the meantime, I would need to get outside to photograph while the light was getting better. It turned out that they had a hell of lot more beer left than I did light.

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Abducted by sea turtles AND the talk of the town.

19 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Geography, History, Humor, Observations, Photography, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

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Gallipoli, Photography, Ramea

With all apologies to the bard (Ramea, O’ Ramea, where art thou O’ Ramea?), Ramea is a small island off the southern coast of Newfoundland and I arrived safely on the good ship (well, ferry) Gallipoli. For those who may be history minded, Gallipoli is the name of a horrible battle in World War I in which allied soldiers were brutally massacred because of an incredibly dumb decision. It was also a movie starring the then uncontroversial and better-looking actor Mel Gibson. And Gallipoli was the boat of which I just got off! Should I have read something into that? Time enough to ponder as I’ll be getting back on it to return to the Newfoundland mainland in a few days.

Approaching Ramea, one travels though a beautiful though unexpected archipelago. It was a wonderful greeting. The only thing missing were giant sea turtles, but for all I knew they may have been laying in wait to ambush me and make mock-Bruce soup. Hey, it could happen.

This was going to be very cool. Ramea is a very small island, populated by about 600 people. At it’s peak in the early 1970′s, it had about double that, but when the fish were gone, half the populace followed. Yet, it holds on. There is a music festival, like so many other Newfoundland outports, in August. And there are a number of outdoor activities in which one can indulge. The electricity is furnished by a small wind turbine farm. OK, so much for the Chamber of Commerce business.

As I’ve come to learn and appreciate and obsessively seek out, the best activity of all in Newfoundland is talking and partying with Newfoundlanders, everywhere! And that more than anything would define this part of the journey. Oh, the photographs would be taken. And with the certainty of only those of the pure of heart and who sleep like babies, I knew they would be good. I didn’t really, I hoped they would be good. But I’m rambling. The beer would be drunk, but not I, oh, no! Moose what would be eaten. Sorry, Squirrel. More on that later,

I checked into the B&B on Ramea, unpacked, and then started out on which was to be my newest adventure. Without giving too much away, must be frugal with my words here, I was to see clothes-lines, coffins, windmills, hand-painted signs, a bar, so much more and unbeknownst to me at the time, become the talk of the island.

Related articles
  • Look boss, the plane, the plane! No, Tattoo, that’s a boat! (arnnarn.com)
  • Is Gallipoli Relevant? (radioadelaidebreakfast.wordpress.com)
  • And now a word from our sponsor…. (arnnarn.com)

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Look boss, the plane, the plane! No, Tattoo, that’s a boat!

14 Wednesday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Geography, Photography, Travel

≈ 1 Comment

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Newfoundland

Burgeo, on the southern coast. (From Sailblogs.)

Made it to Burgeo after a gruesomely long drive. The good news is that where I was off to next to photograph was a very small island, Ramea, on which I would be walking almost everywhere. The bad new is that when I got back to Newfoundland proper, I had an even longer trip back to St. John’s, but that’s for another post.

I found my B&B and checked in. Martine, my host was very friendly, showed me to my room, and offered some suggestions as to where I might find dinner. There were two options – both named after their proprietors- Joy’s Place and Sharon’s Diner. Sharon was off somewhere and was closed so it was to Joy’s Place which was closer anyway. Joy wasn’t in either (were Joy and Sharon running errands together?) so I couldn’t send my compliments to the chef, so I left a nice tip instead.

I returned to my B&B and had some wine with Martine. my host. We talked about Burgeo and what had brought me there. She told me that Burgeo was very old, about  500 years, but it was only incorporated in 1950 and was basically a fishing village until 1992 when the moratorium was put into place. Then it too went through all the difficulties the rest of the province did. It’s a sweet place with a couple of restaurants, a school, all the things one would expect to find pretty much anywhere, except they don’t have the view that Burgeo does. Take that world!

(From Wikipedia)

So, right now, it’s the perfect place to catch my breath before getting on another boat on my way to Ramea. Remind me why I’m doing this.

(Courtesy Newfoundland & Labrador)

Oh yeah, this’ll be fun.

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Me and Homer….no, not Simpson!

12 Monday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Food, Geography, Observations, Travel

≈ 5 Comments

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Arn? Narn., Homer's Odyssey, Newfoundland

Now that I’d returned to the mainland which is Newfoundland proper, I was to head to the southern coast of Newfoundland to catch another ferry to another island. Yeah, yeah, I know…

(Courtesy Terry’s Bayside Getaway)

But, I had a lot a traveling to do in front of me. First south, then west, then southeast, and then finally south again until I reached where I would spend the night before getting on the boat. And that would take the entire day. A very long day. Aw c’mon, this can’t be the way to Burgeo, can it?

Before I proceed with this retelling of Homer’s Odyssey, let me recap some earlier posts for background material. First, Newfoundland is big…damn big. Secondly, much of it is still wild without a lot of settlement on it save for the coasts. Third, there aren’t many places to stop for food, directions, or even meaningless conversations over coffee. When you do find a place, make sure you get some take along food and drink, anything. For me it was chocolate-covered cookies and water. Did I mention it’s big? Fourth, where you can stop will probably have the most bizarre collection of chips available, that you might not want to sample unless you’ll be near a toilet. Fifth, while the maps are quite accurate, nothing prepares you for the enormous space similar to going what Australians call their Outback but here is just out there and out there are absolutely no kangaroos. Sorry, Mate! Hopefully you get the picture. I did mention it’s big, didn’t I?

This is the first time I’d be traveling in Newfoundland without a view of the sea nearby and that’s a bit disconcerting. All my previous travels here have never been far away from water and I’m missing the outports and all their character and stories.

Just brush, bogs, some trees, and a lot of rock. (Courtesy Natural Resources Canada)

While the original intent for my book “Arn? Narn?” was to be an exploration of isolation, nothing had prepared me for this. This part of the island is rugged and almost barren; more rock than brush, some trees, many bogs, few seen moose or caribou, and lonely, very lonely. There was no radio reception out here and I was grateful for the working cd player. And because it was so remote, beyond what the odometer told me, I had no real idea of where I was going. Friends have also told me that, but I digress. And the cookies were running perilously low. If I was going to find my way back, I would probably need them for crumbs to leave a trail.

Onward I drove. From Fogo though Birchy Bay, Norris Arm, to Deer Lake through to Pasadena (no I couldn’t have traveled that far!) then Corner Brook, right hand turn at Barachois Pond Provincial Park into Burgeo, my resting place for the night. Well over 650 miles this day. Resting place indeed. Try crash and burn and wake me next year place. But I won’t need any more cookies for this part of the trip, oh no, – I’m going on another boat! Maybe some Dramamine though.

Related articles
  • I’m a real nowhere man… (arnnarn.com)
  • “Arn? Narn.” Do you feel lucky? (arnnarn.com)

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Bartender to me – “Would you like that on the rocks?” Not funny.

08 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Humor, Photography, Sea, Travel

≈ 1 Comment

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Fogo Island, Iceberg, Newfoundland

Now, I’m not going to say I was feeling Like Leonardo in the movie. Nor was there, regrettably, a counterpart to Kate Winslet standing bravely by my side either. But, I was on a boat in the seas off Newfoundland and there was a lot of ice in the water. And it was in early April. Draw your own conclusions.

No, I was now leaving Fogo Island for the second part of this trip. Obviously being on this island meant I was going to have to take a boat ride back to the main and much larger island of Newfoundland proper. It was a ferry in actuality, a not very large one, and it took a couple of hours.

The ferry.

The Titanic – see any difference?

Earlier I wrote about the arctic ice pack that had come in and locked up the harbors. For a large ship as my hopefully sea- and ice-worthy ferry was, this would – should be an uneventful trip.

It’s pretty common knowledge that what you see of an iceberg above the surface of the sea is only 10% of it’s size. The remaining, evil, waiting to sink unsuspecting ships, part constitutes the other 90%. Remember, the ice pack, unlike a lot of doctors, is in!

An artists’ idea of an iceberg

So, me and a bunch of other intrepid travelers including their cars, (that’ll make the ship sink faster, won’t it?) drive on and take our places on the ferry. The driveway (?) pulls up, seals the then-open end of the ship and we shove off from shore. (Wait, I think I left my toothbrush at the B&B!)

I’m not normally apprehensive about sea travel. I’ve been on ferries before! But not through icebergs. Alright, they weren’t icebergs – more like a continuous seascape of floes, large, heavy, really white, and cold ice floes. And 90% of each one could not be seen! Yes, this was a steel hulled ship; and yes, it did this every year, but… Hey, wait, every year? How strong could this barge still be?

We plowed through the ice pack slowly; the floes grinding loudly against the hull; some so large that you could feel the ship shift from THEIR weight and mass. Oh, sweet mother… two more hours of this.

Not surprisingly, we made it safely. I got some good pictures. But throughout that whole trip, at no time did I ever want to climb up on the hull and yell “I’m king of the world!” Nor did I hear Celine Dion singing in the background. There is a God after all.

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No, no, no… please, I insist, after you.

06 Tuesday Mar 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Observations, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

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Royal Canadian Mounted Police

It is a stereotype that Canadians are among the friendliest and politest people on the planet. But, as a stereotype, that tends to put everything into a one-size-fits-all category. The truth of the matter is that Canadians ARE some of the friendliest and politest people around, bar none. Funny, too. Great music also. I could go on.

It’s almost as if it’s a law that they dare not break or even bend. One will see and experience this on a day-to-day basis just in visiting stores and offices even government ones! But, it is also manifested in a way different from any other I’ve experienced. Now, this becomes a chicken or an egg issue. (No, not the political football being tossed around currently.) Which came first?

What I’m referring to is the highway system – specifically the TCH or Trans-Canada Highway. In Newfoundland, (I can’t speak to other provinces on this issue as not having visited in many years), the THC crosses the entire island and driving it is at a comfortable 110 kph or about 65 miles per hour. People do speed on it and risk being pulled over by the RCMP – but they will be accosted politely.

In the course of photographing for this book, I’d spend many hours and many more miles on the TCH. It is largely a two lane highway, one way; each way – unless there is room for a passing lane. And that is just what it is – a passing lane. Used for passing and passing only unlike here in the US where the passing lane is considered a through lane. Drivers actually use it to pass and then they almost immediately move over. They do not hog the lane. They do not speed up to prevent you from passing them. Hell, if you want to pass them at higher speed (and risk hitting a moose), why go ahead, after you, please, we insist. They’re serious about this politeness, even on the highways. It’s…refreshing.

So, we can count friendly, musically-inclined, funny, AND polite driving as typical Canadian traits. And if Canadians are some the friendliest, etc., then Newfoundlanders take it even further. There is something to be learned from this.

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Inconvenience store.

20 Monday Feb 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Observations, Travel

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Newfoundland

As I’ve written earlier, traveling by car in Newfoundland is quite different from the US. I learned earlier that there is a proclivity for really unique types of chips on that road. (See the “You want chips with that?” post from November, 2011.) I also learned that one won’t find coffee easily while traveling on the roads unless on the Trans Canadian Highway where Tim Horton’s usually reigns supreme.

And so it was I found myself in search of a much-needed jolt of caffeine to keep me from running off the road and making an unannounced visit to some moose’s abode. Once you get off the highway onto the less than beaten paths, you might run into a general store or a convenience-type store if you’re lucky and I use the word “convenience” guardedly.

One such emporium I found was called “Last Chance Convenience”. It appeared that it might have just what I was looking for. But the sign on the front made me think twice about that: “Last Chance” – probably; “Convenience” – questionable.

This is what the sign said:

LAST CHANCE CONVENIENCE

Store Hours

Mon-Tue: 1-5PM  7-10PM

Wed, 1-5, 6-8

Thurs-Fri, 1-5, 7-10

Sat, 10-12, 1-5, 7-10

Sun, 2-5, 7-9

Judging from the posted hours, meal breaks figured prominently into the work schedule, along with appeared to be a long and late breakfast. But that was not the only sign on the building. On the door was a “Sorry – We’re Closed” sign. It didn’t matter to that sign I was there during “open hours.” It hung there in mute defiance, mocking me and oblivious to my petty needs. It was obvious that this would not be my last chance at caffeinated happiness, but it wasn’t about to be a convenient one.

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I go, you go, Fogo!

31 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, History, Observations, Photography, Travel

≈ 1 Comment

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Fishing, Fogo Island, Outports

                                                                     From a more hopeful time.

Pardon the silliness of the title, but I’ll be off to Fogo Island on the north coast of Newfoundland. It, after arriving in St. John’s, will be the first stop in my second trip up there. It is there where I hope to find and start to photograph the newly realized core of my book, “Arn? Narn.”

Just what is that core? It’s what I had already known but not realized; then realized but didn’t understand; and now it was a growing awareness of the impact of the fishing moratorium and it’s subsequent long-term effects. It was as my Fogo Island innkeeper was to tell me, “What you see now will not be here in 10-12 years.” That wasn’t prescient; it was fact: one I was still to discover first hand.

Fogo Island is so uniquely Newfoundland. (Where else could you be greeted by The Mouse?) The name was originally Y del Fogo, meaning island of fire. There is speculation as to the origin of the name: perhaps it was the native Beothuk’s (now extinct) campfires or multiple forest fires, but no one is certain.

The island supported itself solely on fishing as had the entire province. Now it was suffering the same fate as that of the larger “mainland” island. True, it had the annual Brimstone Head Folk festival each summer on Brimstone Head, (reputed by the Flat Earth Society to be one of the four corners of the earth!) but that was in early August for only a few days. A week before that is the Ethridge Point Seaside Festival in Joe Batt’s Arm. These bring some tourists in but for a short time, not enough to make much of a difference.

I was to be here for nearly a week in which I would be able to roam and photograph across the island, talk with people directly, and get a better feel for this environment. I would learn that Fogo was the main outport/town on Fogo Island – do not confuse the two. Fogo (the town) is joined by the communities of Joe Batt’s Arm, Seldom, Little Seldom, Tilting, Barr’d Islands, and Stag Harbour. In 2006 they all came together to form the Town of Fogo, while retaining their individual personalities. More to come on Fogo soon.

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Passport, please.

24 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Newfoundland, Observations, Photography, Travel

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Yup, I was going back to Newfoundland. Was I upset by this? Hell, no. I couldn’t wait and this time it was to be for three whole weeks, not two as in the previous year. And my passport was still current.

While I had to do a lot of research and planning for the first trip, this would be easier to implement. All that remained to plan was to map out where I wanted to go shoot since I now knew what the core of the story was to be.

During the first trip while I had learned about the fishing industry being decimated and its’ inestimable damage, I hadn’t realized then that that was the story, the core for which I was looking. Now, armed with that knowledge, I was better prepared to shoot with a lot more intention and focus.

Returning to one of the original “crime scenes” of my first trip (visiting with my Newfoundland photographer friend Randy), I was able to map out precisely where I needed to go. I also determined that I needed to spend more time in fewer locations to get better steeped in that particular area. With Randy’s guidance, I would be spending most of my time on two islands – one on the north coast, the other on the south coast. Travel time itself on the island would cost me a minimum of four days including ferry travel. This would be different indeed from my first journey there.

During this upcoming trip, I would become more intimately familiar with the legendary Newfoundland hospitality and generosity, homemade wine, moose burgers, and kitchen parties. And it wouldn’t stop there.

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What I really, really wanted…

05 Thursday Jan 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Observations, Photography, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

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Isolation

At this point, I’d been on the not-so-tropical island of Newfoundland photographing for nearly two weeks and traveling well-over 3,500 miles while doing so. Yet, laying underneath in the psychic morass known as my mind was the small, festering question as to whether or not I had achieved that for which I had come. If I didn’t, I could not simply return and re-photograph it; I would never see it again with the freshness and the mystery first experienced. I could only hope that I did it honestly and the project justice. These are just some of the fears photographers have while attempting such an endeavor as this.

Shooting it on film meant that I was not going to know what I had until all the film, some 3,000 exposures in all, was processed and proofed. There was no deadline imposed other than the urgency I felt wanting to see what was there. Many hours in the darkroom awaited me. This is not like waiting for the envelope to be read at an awards banquet and the outcome announced quickly. It would only be revealed in multiples of 12-36 exposures at a time. In this case, it was to be like 3,000 cliff-hangers in a Saturday morning serial. Does Pauline get rescued from the railroad tracks? Probably. Does Flash escape the clutches of the evil Ming the Merciless? Oh, we hope so. Yes, that was what it was like. I was going to have to keep processing the film and proofing it before I was able to see exactly what was there. There were going to be many moments of truth before me.

I had gone up to Newfoundland to explore, photograph, learn, and understand isolation in a Western culture. There aren’t too many inhabited places in the western hemisphere that fill that bill, but Newfoundland did. So I got that part right. But it was far from certain if I had succeeded with the photography. There were still a few more days in which I’d be photographing before I left for home and the work now in front of me. The really lame photographers joke fits perfectly here: I was going to have to see what developed.

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Moose vs. World

02 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Humor, Newfoundland, Travel

≈ 2 Comments

If you’re a bicyclist, you know that in a match-up of rider vs. car, the car always wins.

However, in the Newfoundland game of anything vs. moose, the moose almost always wins. These things are (sorry, Mr. Trump) HUGE! At the shoulder they are 6-7 feet high. Add the neck, head, and antlers, and well, it’s just big. Their antlers alone can span up to 6 feet across. Weight-wise, they are probably just a steak dinner lighter than a small Hyundai at 1,500 lbs. average.

Now why, I’m sure you’re asking, is this important? It’s like this – moose, like the younger of our own species, like to come out and play at night. They don’t have very good eyesight. And they’re a little on the obstinate side and can be mean-spirited. One more thing, they seem to like standing in the middle of the road just where you intended to aim your car. Oh, and to compound matters, they’re also dark-colored. So if you’re traveling on the Trans Canadian Highway at night and your forward progress is impeded suddenly, it’s entirely likely you ran into a moose. Usually at great damage and cost to your car. The road signs depicting and warning of such mayhem abound across the island and that in itself is a good case for rental cars and insurance while in Newfoundland.

Again, why is this important? Because as I started to head back to St. John’s from the Western Coast, I’d be traveling partly at night and am not particularly eager to make the intimate acquaintance of said creatures. I’m sure they’re lovely and interesting to study and good to their parents, but I’d try and skip that peculiar pleasure this trip. There are many more pictures to take for the book and this wasn’t in my plans.

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“We’re not fulltime stupid.” Really?

22 Thursday Dec 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Humor, Observations, Travel, Uncategorized

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Newfoundland, Travel

One of the small pleasures in traveling is watching local television. Usually it’s some buffoonish weatherman trying out material for his audition reel. Other times it can be just the silliness of a marble-mouthed reporter unable to pronounce the name of a perp or a foreign town.

That said, I’ve nothing to say about Newfoundland TV. It’s pretty basic fare: comedies, which are actually rather clever and entertaining; the standard, low expectation cops and robbers shoot ‘em ups; news and weather; and of course the ubiquitous cable channels running infomercials for products of which no discernible need has ever been discovered.

However, because of cable and satellite TV, channels from other provinces can be watched. And because I was in Newfoundland, that was some of the electronic fodder to which I was subjected. I admit, I did it to myself, I was alone and the wine from the lobsters was gone.

So, on went the tube and down went my expectations until I stumbled upon a newscast on a channel from Hamilton, Ontario. It was nice, as Canada and Canadians are. This report had no stories of mayhem, political scandals, or even traffic jams. What it did have was a story featuring the mayor discussing a new curfew for teenagers. Apparently, there had been some problems and it had been decided by the town poobahs that a curfew would be just the ticket.

The reporter asked about certain things that might keep a teenager out after the curfew: would there be exceptions?

The mayor, straight-faced, serious as an IRS audit replied: “Of course, we’re not full time stupid.” Part-time, maybe?

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Kevin Spacey slept here.

06 Tuesday Dec 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Newfoundland, Observations, Photography, Sea, Travel, Uncategorized

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Bonavista Peninsula, E. Annie Proulx, Outports, The Shipping News

Scene from “The Shipping News”

There are those who believe that close proximity to fame will allow that very same fame to rub off on them. About all that accrues from these multiple degrees of separation is that one could say so-and-so slept here and well, so did they. What else could explain the countless number of roadside signs declaring that “George Washington slept here.”? Who cares? If the signs are to be believed, he was a randy father of our country and nothing much seems to have changed over the course of our history.

That stated, I slept where Kevin Spacey did, really and not intentionally, really. I walked and drove around the same places he did. And yet I am no more famous for doing so. (But then, neither is he.) However, where we both slept (not at the same time!) was on the Bonavista Peninsula, on the eastern side of Newfoundland: he, to film the movie adaptation of E. Annie Proulx’s book “The Shipping News”; me, to continue shooting what was to become “Arn? Narn.”.

A good portion of the film was shot on the Bonavista Peninsula. It, like all of Newfoundland, boasts many outports with such names as Birchy Cove, New and Old Bonaventure (you takes yer choice), and Sweet Bay. The dock shown here, typical of an outport, was used in the film in an important scene featuring a boat alleged to be “Hitler’s Yacht.” Go figure.

As I started “Arn? Narn.”, I was drawn to the outports. They, because of their importance to fishing and the survival of the province, were at once the living history of Newfoundland and its future and it was in them l was to learn what the core of my book was to be. But not yet, and not for sometime.

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You want chips with that?

08 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, Food, Newfoundland, Observations, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Food, Newfoundland

Newfoundland is not like anywhere else. That’s a good thing. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it’s big – 41,000 square miles of cod-loving goodness. And traveling around the province in the small outports, one can get a real flavor for the island. But try and get something to eat and you’ll find the options limited, some familiar and some perhaps a bit odd. (My favorite was the industrial strength, chocolate-covered graham cracker cookies that stayed fresh for many days and miles.)

First of all, there are no small villages/towns with neighborhood Starbucks. If you walk into a small local grocery store, you likely will not find coffee: soda, yes; coffee, no.  That seems to be reserved for the TCH (Trans Canadian Highway) rest stops. And then, it’s usually Tim Horton’s. In real life, Tim was a hockey player in the NHL, playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs, NY Rangers, Pittsburgh Penguins, and the Buffalo Sabres. After he retired, he founded Tim Horton’s coffee and donuts which ARE infinitely better than DD, in my opinion and they open real early.

Photo – C.Meisterman

So you can’t get coffee off the beaten track which most of Newfoundland is… off the beaten track. But it seems you can always get chips of some sort. Wondrous, fantastical, otherworldly chips . One could feast all day on heart-arresting fare such as Fromage Mordant; Sweet Chili Heat (sort of sounds like a South American dancer!); Roast Chicken chips; Ketchup chips(!); Habanero chips; Chili Cheese Lime chips; Dill Pickle chips; Honey Mustard chips; Doritos 1st Degree Burn Blazin’ Jalapeno chips; Smoky Bacon chips; the punk-rock sounding Blair’s Death Rain (my favorite name) chips of various flavors – the name is enough to make one reconsider their own mortality; and one I won’t be trying next time I’m up there – Fries and Gravy chips! Actually, they might be pretty good.

So no coffee, but chips…as far as the eye can see.

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50,000+ Tickleasses and watching your step.

01 Tuesday Nov 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Newfoundland, Travel

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Avalon Peninsula, Cape St. Mary's, Irish Loop, Newfoundland

If you’re a bird watcher, this is for you. If not, maybe the snarky comments will hold your interest.

Cape St. Mary’s is in the part of Newfoundland, located on the southern tip of the southwestern arm of the Avalon Peninsula, known as the Irish Loop. It plays host to the second largest northern gannet colony in North America. I know you were sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for that one. The Cape St. Mary’s Ecological Reserve is located here. On this rock, this sea-hugging 300 plus foot hill, there are hundreds of thousands of sea birds covering these cliffs. And when they get to their non-stop talking/singing/screeching/cackling/whatever, they sound much like the cast of The View on speed, only louder, much, much louder. After all, there are so many of them and only 4-5 on The View. The good news though is there are no commercials on Cape St. Mary’s.

It truly is a sight to see. The cliffs covered with Murre’s, Gulls of several varieties, Razorbills, and my favorite named the Kittiwake or colloquially known as the Tickleass. The Tickleasses, sorry I can’t help myself, comprise perhaps the largest group of birds there. I won’t bore you with details about coloring etc, except they are just as loud and raucous as the others.

One other thing. I mentioned the cliffs are covered with them. That’s not entirely true. It’s also covered with a lot of guano so watch your step!

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He’s leaving home, bye, bye. Welcome home.

23 Sunday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Geography, Newfoundland, Observations, Travel

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Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland

The day has come and I’m heading north, way north – in the winter no less! For that I grew a full beard and mustache (which in a complete surprise to me my wife loved!) in anticipation of the cold I was certain to experience while outside photographing. It turned out to be a good move. All the planning for clothes, camera bags, and places to stay is really going to be put to the test over the next two weeks.

It should come as no shock to anyone that my flight was an hour late in taking off. Since this was the first of four legs to get to Newfoundland, I was starting to sweat it. But the pilot must have known a shortcut as we got to Detroit with a little time to spare to make the next connection. No time to eat or drink though – maybe at the next stop in Montreal.

The trip overall was uneventful. Landings equaled take-offs and all was well with the world. However, we must have come into St. Johns (capital of Newfoundland Labrador) on the Avalon Peninsula (eastern-most part of Newfoundland) from the west for, in my subsequent trips,  nothing prepared me for what I was to see that early evening. Descending in the growing darkness, we crossed over so many brilliant golden lakes defined by deep black shores as to look like a incredibly rich brocade of geography. It was impossibly beautiful and transcendent. I couldn’t wait until we landed.

We landed. I retrieved my bags and got the rental car and stepped outside for the first time In Newfoundland. My wife has said, “Where you are born is not necessarily where you’re from.” She was right. I felt like for the first time ever I was now home.

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Does anybody really know what time it is? (Does anybody really care?) – Thanks to Chicago.

19 Wednesday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Newfoundland, Observations, Travel

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Newfoundland

Good question…especially if you’re going to Newfoundland. I had always been under the impression (wrongly it seems) that time zones were in one hour increments. Consequently, I initially had a difficult time reconciling what time it was at home and what time it was in Newfoundland. What I was calculating in time differences was just not working out.

There is a very simple reason: Newfoundland has its’ own time zone and it’s on the half hour. If you’re in New York, then Newfoundland is 1.5 hours ahead of you, (it’s ahead in a lot of things.)

And trying to remember that in planning (from afar) kept things interesting. When calling my new photographer friend, I had to make sure that I either did not call him at lunch, or early in the evening, or after he closed because I couldn’t remember that little fact. Small, but frustrating. Also when I did finally get there, I had to make sure I accounted for the 2.5 hour difference between there and home. Nothing like calling at a time you think is early only to find out it’s much earlier than from where you’re calling. I think should have gotten one of those watches that tells time in multiple time zones.

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Really… you can’t get there from here and if you could…when?

14 Friday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Discovery, Newfoundland, Travel, Weather

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Newfoundland, Travel

Well, you can get there from here but it was going to take a circuitous route to accomplish it. One can drive there if in a questionable state of mind. Get on the highway east through the South, north into the mid-Atlantic states up to New England and then to Nova Scotia. Once there, an eight hour (or over-night) ferry must be taken to Newfoundland. The total distance is just over 2,100 miles – driving alone is probably four and a half days complete with ferry ride. Nah, I’d fly.

On the net to find flights, I found there weren’t that many choices available. My flight would consist of four legs – Memphis to Detroit; Detroit to Montreal; Montreal to Halifax; OK, this getting a little silly, and then finally Halifax to St. Johns, ColNewfoundland.  You know, maybe driving wouldn’t be so bad after all. Nah, I’d fly. Now the question is when?

From my research, I knew that the tourist season was from late May-early June until September. And it did look awfully beautiful. But travelogue beauty or tourists wandering aimlessly into my photos were not what I was looking for. I was seeking isolation and that meant WINTER! (As I wrote earlier about the camera bag, I was also going to need appropriate clothing.)

Winters are long in Newfoundland; cold but not Minnesota cold. Each year, there are often days colder in Memphis, TN than there. But they do get a lot of snow. And fog. And it is cold. And windy on the coast. So, that certainly seemed to make sense – winter it was.

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Oh no! My shoes don’t match the bag!

12 Wednesday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Observations, Photography, Travel

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Newfoundland

Everyone knows travel has become increasingly difficult. I wouldn’t be surprised that if before long, you’ll have to stand before a painted silhouette of a person to make sure you’re tall enough to board your flight.

The logistics of traveling with a large amount of photographic equipment presented its own unique issues. It’s not a good idea to send it through with your luggage – you might not ever see it again or worse, have to claim it at an airport in Wyoming. How does one carry that much on the plane? Nothing I had would accomplish its safe passage to Newfoundland. I needed a special case that would hold four cameras, many lenses and accessories. (I had already determined I would ship the tripod ahead along with film.) Oh, and it had to fit either under the seat or in the bulkhead. Yeah, right.

Looking back, I can’t believe the amount of research I did on camera bags: a bag or case that would meet my peculiar requirements. A back pack might have worked, but then I’d be spending the whole trip at a chiropractor. A soft bag would not work either. Going online showed me the ridiculous number of choices in styles, colors and sizes available. I knew what kind of planes I’d be on, so I could find the maximum sizes allowed. This enabled me to narrow down the choices quickly. Finally I made my choice – a rolling bag with handle, cleverly disguised to look like real luggage that would actually hold everything and fit in the plane.

Next: clothing because even if my shoes didn’t match my new bag, at least I’d be warm.

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Henrietta’s Hospitality Home, Betty’s Patch, and not a Motel 6 to be found and that’s not a bad thing.

08 Saturday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, Newfoundland, Observations, Travel, Uncategorized

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Hospitality, Newfoundland

There is absolutely no shortage of places to stay (in addition to the side of the road as mentioned in the previous entry) while in Newfoundland. The names of these places oftentimes reflect the Newfoundland culture and history. Try these on: the Exploits Motel (fill in your own blanks here); House on the Tickle; At Wit’s End; Fishing Point B&B; and The Bear Sleeps Inn (not in my room!).

And where you stay depends on your desire or peculiar needs. You want something luxe? You got it. How about something quaint? That too. What about an authentic fisherman’s cabin? Yup. Camping? Uh huh.

What about someone’s spare room? You know the one…where the son or daughter, aunt or uncle, grandparent, used to live? Oh, yeah. This is not to sound demeaning or disparaging. Rather it speaks to the resourcefulness of Newfoundlanders. They are more than happy to share their homes with complete strangers for a reasonably small fee. It’ll probably even include breakfast.

Let me amend that. That speaks to the natural generosity of Newfoundlanders. One place in which I stayed, asked me that when I came back off the ferry from an island I was visiting, would I like to stay there on my return as their guest! And that included breakfast and a happy hour with wine. This is the nature of Newfoundlanders and I’ll write much more on this in subsequent entries. In the meantime, I’m thinking the Tickle Inn might be a cool place to stay.

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Newfoundland is BIG!

03 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by Bruce Meisterman in Culture, Discovery, Geography, Newfoundland, Travel

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Newfoundland

Newfoundland is an island… a very big island. At 41,000 square miles, it’s just a little smaller than the state of Tennessee. But where Tennessee is land-locked (with the exception of the Mississippi River), Newfoundland is surrounded by water, is closer to Ireland than to Ontario and is informed by that very same water. OK, that’s enough for today’s geography lesson.

What does that have to do with traveling there? Well, a lot. Since I was going to be traversing the entire province, I needed to get an idea of where I might crash each evening. In David W. McFadden’s book, “An Innocent In Newfoundland”, he writes about driving until dark (remember the moose) with no indication of a place to stay. Resourceful soul that he is, he pulls over to the side of the road and sleeps there. Not bad: cheap, probably no bed bugs, toilet right outside the door, but no running water or a cup of coffee with which to get started. I’ve stayed in worse, but not this go-round.

In the planning stages, I determined that St. Johns, the capitol city, would be my starting and finishing point. From there I would launch out into the unknown. My research had shown a fair amount of hotels and too numerous bed and breakfasts. The B&B’s were more affordable but ran a very wide range.

Who or what to choose was determined by price (of course) and whether or not it was “en suite”. That was a new one to me. Simply put, en suite means you get a bathroom with your room, otherwise, it’s shared. Decisions, decisions. Names in Newfoundland, as I wrote about earlier, tend to the colorful. The B&B’s were no exception. More on this next time.

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