Friday July 25, 2025
Sitting on Cathy’s deck with the sound of seabirds and a fierce wind to keep me company. The weather is iffy today; yesterday heavenly, tomorrow rain.
Cathy lives at Hopeall, on the water, partway up one side of the Avalon Peninsula. She spent childhood summers very near here, and although her adult life was centred in Ontario, she bought this house twenty-five years ago. She has made it beautiful to within an inch of its life – trees, plants, renovations, a sunroom, a little round barrel of a sauna outside.
Sunset from Cathy’s deck.
Yesterday, a sunny day, we drove up the peninsula. We stopped at New Melbourne on the way to visit the cemetery where some of her relatives are buried, near where her nanny lived – her father’s mother who never accepted being Canadian, was a Newfoundlander forever. We ended at Grate’s Cove at the top of the peninsula, walking along the cliffs with the ocean pounding below. At the end of the trail, we sat looking out to sea, and she said, Look – whales! There were two whales; we watched the sleek black backs, could hear the blows. We followed them for ages as they cruised by. The thrill of a lifetime.
Driving away, we stopped at Cindy’s, who had a clothesline of colourful hooked rugs on display. I bought one for me and one for Cath. Cindy brought us into the cluttered little house to her workshop, passing her husband who was watching TV. “Don’t mind him, he’s part of the furniture,” she said. We went to a general store that sells everything, including a huge selection of heavy, expensive rubber boots, vital footwear here. Also a huge selection of wool and cloth. Winter is long.
Below: the village of Grate’s Cove with Finn, Cathy’s little dog, leading the way; Cindy’s; “In honour of Mabel Driscoll. Here she sat watching the comings and goings of fisherman”; the fishing village of Bay de Verde, pronounced Bay de Verd.
Last night, after dinner, we watched Sense and Sensibility, both of us for the nth time. It is a perfect film, not one single thing wrong with it – acting, script, direction. Perfect.
Today, Friday, we went for a long walk through the nearby tangled woods to Hopeall Falls and the abandoned trout farm, and later to the town of Dildo, made famous by Jimmy Kimmel, who paid for a Hollywood-type sign above the town. It was far too windy to walk around, though. A storm is brewing. We had moose sausage for dinner. Delicious.
Kathy has pointed out what a city girl I am. She has lived in countless places, including for a long time as a public health nurse in the far north, and went with Doctors Without Borders to Africa. I’ve lived in Cabbagetown for nearly forty years, go periodically to Paris, London, and New York, am little acquainted with wilderness. Ah well.
Saturday July 26, 2025
I have a cold. Unbelievable, embarrassing, no idea where that came from, but here it is. Poor Cathy. Now we cannot go and visit her local friends, some of whom have health issues. Luckily – LOL – it’s supposed to rain all day so we’re not going anywhere anyway.
Cathy told me when you’re having cod for dinner, it’s just fish. We’re having fish for dinner, means cod. If you’re having something else, mackerel, then you’re having mackerel. I’m happy to tell you, I’ve had fresh fish every day since landing.
What makes me marvel is – how do things survive the endless brutal winters? People, animals, birds, nature, somehow they all do. There are abundant wildflowers everywhere, including sweet wild roses, and forty trillion trees; this vast province is covered almost entirely with trees. I wonder if the famous Newfoundland kindness and generosity so celebrated in Come From Away is at least partly because it’s survival; in such a harsh climate, without friends and neighbours, you’d die. There’s an automatic and authentic hospitality here, and humour, great understated humour.
Cathy says although her father was born here and she came back with him every summer, she’s still a come-from-away and will never be completely accepted by native Newfoundlanders. But then, Lynn says that about the French, too.
So, a quiet day ahead, as I regain health and we wait for the rain to subside. I did the worst packing job for this trip ever – a suitcase full of flimsy summer clothes and a bathing suit! One sweater and a fleece. I must have been out of my mind. Luckily Cath has leant me a sweatshirt. It was hard, in a sweltering Toronto, to imagine such damp and cold. Now I know, for the next time.
Cathy just came back from walking Finn down her road. She had porch visits with neighbours, doesn’t want to go in in case she has my bug. Was given a bag of fish straight off the boat. There are loons right outside. We are both trying to ignore the news, with little success – watching Colbert, Jon Stewart, and the other geniuses keeping hope alive. Hopeall!
