NFL - Day 3 - Vinland

7/3/17, “Vinland”

L’Anse aux Meadows, Newfoundland and Labrador

This trip is, in more ways than one, the companion trip to my recent trip of ice of fire.  The geography plays a large part in the similarity between Greenland and Newfoundland, or Vinland as Leif Erikson called it.  Just a few weeks ago, I was at Erik the Red’s farm of Brattahlid in Greenland, which was where his son, Leif, left to sail to the Americas, establishing a settlement here at L’Anse aux Meadows.  The land was rich in grapes and other resources, so he called it Vinland.

The landscapes, both natural and cultural, here are almost indistinguishable from those that I recently saw in Greenland.  It has the fjorded coasts and rocky crags that I so love.  The rocks are even the same color.  The buildings are the same buildings that are common to the North Atlantic.  As I noted during my previous trip, and as a friend recently similarly commented, it looks like a scene out of “Breath of the Wild.”  Link would be very happy here.

Further, this trip is cashing the check that I wrote in Greenland, about visiting these final four World Heritage Sites in North America.  When I was on that trip, I kept talking about how I would just need the four WHS in Newfoundland and Labrador say, “North America Complete.”  Well, I am now only one away.  Assuming the next 48 hours go well, this trip is sure to be one for the record books.

After I closed last night, I had issues with the Wi-Fi, and I had difficulty publishing, having to use alternative methods to get my photos uploaded, and having to go inside to do it.  I would not be able post any photos or have another cigar.  Around 9 PM, I went up to my room and passed out not much later.  I had hoped to get 6 full REM cycles to catch up on sleep, but that was not possible.  Instead, I woke up to my alarm around 5:40 AM, right in the middle of my sixth REM cycle, which left me probably far more tired than I would have been if I had woken up naturally after my fifth REM cycle.  I got ready and headed down for the breakfast buffet, which was very similar to the breakfast I had on the ferry yesterday morning, with one addition: fish cakes.  I got bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, hash browns, and two fish cakes, along with coffee.  The fish cakes were easily the best part.

It was a short drive to the ferry, and, while I was not able to sleep on board, I rested my eyes, and I felt refreshed as we pulled in to port.  The drive from St. Barbe to L’Anse aux Meadows was not much longer than an hour, and I lit up a Fuente for the drive.  There were lots of accommodations and restaurants and museums outside of the WHS, but I just cared about the WHS itself.  There would be time enough later for the other stuff, including a proper Viking lunch.  This is the only activity for the day, though I might try to sneak in a preview hike at Gros Morne tonight, depending on time.

I got to the VC, and I was shocked how crowded it was.  I had to park on the grass as all the spots were taken.  The Plaque was right out front of the building, just where it should be, not hidden next to the bathroom, as my country likes to do.  I went inside, got my brochure, and found out where the inscription photo was taken (at the start of the boardwalk trail to the historic site).  I then went back to the Plaque, put down my day bag and sweatshirt, and asked the first person I saw to take my picture.  It turned out he didn’t own a cell phone, so I had to teach him how to use it, but he took some good pictures.

I then went inside to post my picture and look at the exhibits.  They showed how the Vikings voyaged from Scandinavia to Greenland to Vinland, and they had an excellent map that illustrated the answer to a question my grandfather asked me after I got back from Iceland and Greenland.  The map showed how they were to closely hug the coast and never venture to far from shore, all the way from Norway to Newfoundland.  I then thought about where I would write my entry, only to realize I had left my day bag, with my computer, and sweatshirt outside.  I ran out to get it, and it was thankfully still there.  No one ever said this trip would be easy, but I did not expect it to be this hard.

I finished looking at the exhibits and then went outside to the spot of the inscription photo.  I lit up a Montecristo Open Eagle, the same cigar I had smoked at Brattahlid, left my cigar on a ledge, went back inside to post the picture, retrieved my cigar, and walked down to the historic sites.  There seems to be a tour group staring at me now.

Okay, so I got to the leader’s house, and as I walked inside of it, the same place where Leif Erikson lived, I could literally feel the history course through me.  I then sat down at the edge of the house, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can see the reconstructed buildings and finish up here before I head to Gros Morne.

Rocky Harbour, Newfoundland and Labrador

Five years ago, on a night in early July, not dissimilar from this night, sitting outside a cabin not dissimilar from the one next to me right now, smoking a pipe not dissimilar from the one I am now smoking, and drinking a glass of local alcohol not dissimilar from the one I am now drinking, I set out to see the world, or that is how the story goes.  That night in July 2012, I didn’t set out to see the world.  I set out to see the country, to see the continent.  Thoughts of Europe and Asia did not come until much later.  I didn’t even have a passport.  No, that night, I set four simple Goals.  I would visit every state and WHS in the United Sates and every province and WHS in Canada.  The other thirteen Goals came later.

The mountain in this establishing shot, that’s Gros Morne National Park, which will mark my last WHS to visit in Canada.  Hawaii is all that remains on the American side of those first four Goals.  As soon as I claim Gros Morne National Park tomorrow morning, I will not only be able to say, “Canada Complete,” but also, “North America Complete.”  That was no easy feat, Honduras and Haiti posing particular challenges, but I have done it all, and, tomorrow I will claim it.

After I closed at L’Anse aux Meadows, I took some pictures at the reconstructed buildings and walked back to the VC.  I ditched my cigar as I approached the VC and headed inside to get some souvenirs.  I got everything I wanted, except for one thing, a Norse longboat replica to add to the fleet on my parents’ bookshelf.

I then headed to lunch, a highly-rated place called Norsemen’s Restaurant, which was supposed to have Viking specialties.  There was just one problem.  They only had the Viking specialties for dinner, and the lunch menu was quite limited.  I was about to leave and try my luck somewhere else, when I decided that the seafood chowder and ale would be an adequate Viking feast.  That was what I ordered, and it was perfect and far more filling than I expected.

I got a figgy duff, a Newfoundland specialty for dessert, along with coffee, but that was a letdown.  From there, it was, or should have been, at least, a short distance out of town, about ten klicks, and then a straight shot down Route 430 to Rocky Harbour.  It took me about an hour to get to Route 430.  I wasn’t on a time crunch, and the only issue was how much sleep I wanted tonight and how much time I wanted at Gros Morne tomorrow morning.  I was looking forward to a preview hike tonight, but I knew that would just be a bonus.

There was a souvenir shop called “The Viking Shop” towards Route 430, which seemed as good of a bet as any to get the longship.  As I got out of the car, I saw behind me one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.  She had the northern look, to be sure.  It turned out that she was the shopkeeper, and she unlocked the door for me.  She was the type of woman about whom Vikings would have sung songs and fought duels.  The shop, however, was a letdown, but, I wanted to buy something just to maximize the amount of time I could spend in her presence.  I picked out a cheap keychain that I liked, and, after I paid, just to make conversation, really, I asked if she knew who might have the longship replicas.  She recommended a place called “The Hut,” which was back towards L’Anse aux Meadows, the opposite direction of the highway.

I headed to that shop, and it said out front, on a big sign, “VIKING REPLICAS”.  That was promising.  She said that an old man used to make them for her, but he retired and stopped making them.  Okay, time to give up on this quest.  I picked out a couple of small things and checked out, and then she said that the old man might have some in his shop.  If I wanted, she would take me to his shop.  She would drive there, and I would just have to follow her there.  I had expected to get to my hotel with a soft 6 PM arrival, maybe a hard 6:15 PM.  At this point, I began to accept it would be a hard 7 PM arrival tonight.

I followed her to a side road, and then she pointed to his workshop up the hill.  This was sure to be an adventure.  I drove up the hill and knocked on his door.  I told him who sent me and asked about the longships.  He said that he had them.  He had an odd speech pattern, so it was hard to understand what he was saying, but we made it work.  He showed me the longships in his workship.  They were not the metal ones I had expected, but rather intricately carved and painted out of wood and cloth.  He named a price, a low price, but I was out of Canadian money, so I gave him the same number of American dollars, which cost me a bit in the exchange, but it was still a good deal.

I then continued back, lighting up an Angel’s Share TAA Exclusive, but I had to put it down almost immediately, as I stopped for gas just past The Viking Shop.  Now I was ready.  Now I could drive the four hours straight to my hotel.  The drive was unadventurous, and the only harrowing moment was when I found myself in some heavy fog, which I cared more about if it would ruin my day at Gros Morne tomorrow, but the weather now seems to be looking good for the morning, and tonight is a beautiful night.

I also smoked an LFD TAA Exclusive during the drive, and I cheered when I saw the entrance sign for Gros Morne National Park.  I was ready for this.  I made it to the office of my hotel around 6:45 PM, and I got my key and pulled back around to my cottage.  I did wind up getting the hard 7 PM arrival.  I relaxed for a bit and then had to decide what I wanted to do next.  I knew my next three activities, but not the order, and I knew sunset would be at 9:30 PM, which meant that it would be dark not much past 10 PM.  The three activities were dinner at Earle’s restaurant, a preview hike, and writing my entry.

What seemed to make most sense was to do the preview hike first, then dinner, so I resituated myself and headed to the trailhead.  This would just be a preview hike, which meant I would not yet be claiming the WHS.  Just me, a Nicaraguan cigar, and my water bottle.  No Cuban, no brochure, no inscription photo print-out, no post to social media.  The trail I chose was called Berry Hill Trail, and was about a 100-meter elevation gain, but less than a klick of walking in each direction.  I had a 40-minute cigar, and that would be perfect timing.  I lit up my Oliva and started hiking.  I got to the top of the hill quick enough and enjoyed the scenic vistas before walking back and ditching my cigar in the parking lot.

I drove back to town and stopped at the liquor store on the way to get two small bottles of Screech, a local rum.  I asked if he had an ATM, but he said that could give me cash back on my purchase.  That worked.  He put the rum in the same gray plastic bag I had gotten from every souvenir shop and snack place during this trip, and I asked if there was a reason every shop had identical bags.  He said that he actually had some branded white plastic bags if I would prefer, and he gave me one.  That wasn’t my point!  He had no idea why every shop has the same bags, and it is really bothering me.  I went back to my car and then realized that the two small bottles would not be enough, so I got a full-size bottle, which meant I would need to check luggage on my way home.   I parked my car back at the cottage and walked to the restaurant, enjoying a small bottle of Screech on the walk.  It was a perfectly good rum, but nothing special.

I got to the restaurant and ordered a meal of local specialties, along with a Black Horse beer.  For my appetizer, I got a fried dough called toutons with molasses, which was quite good.  For my main course, I got moose stew and poutine.  The poutine was better than the stew, but, hey, how often do you get to eat moose?  It was an experience.

After dinner, I walked back to my cottage, and, as I was walking, I saw that the sun was setting over the ocean, creating a beautiful sight.  I took some pictures and continued back to my cottage.  I now knew that I was on a time crunch, as I needed to take my establishing shot before it got too dark.

I emptied out my pockets except for my passport, cash, and whatever else I would need to smoke my pipe and write my entry.  I took a chair to spot with a great view and filled up my Ardor, one that I knew I had owned in 2012, and tried to light it, but I only had four matches, and the wind claimed all four of them.  Now, the only other matches I had were in my suit jacket, which was in my car, so I had to go back into my cottage, get my car keys, and get the matches.  I found a spot protected from the wind and was able to light up my Ardor.  I then went back to my chair, where I sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and figure out what else I want to do before I go to sleep.