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Tag: St. John’s

Adding memories to photos

“You don’t take a photograph, you make it.”
~Ansel Adams

I’m adding memories to my Newfoundland photos. Putting in some of the little details that can’t be seen by looking at the pictures. I’m capturing the uncaptured frozen in time.

Cabin.The orange cabin we stayed in in Bauline East. Did you know some places in Newfoundland are named twice? Portugal Cove, Portugal Cove South, Bauline, Bauline East. This didn’t just make my head spin but a Newfoundlander’s too when he tried to visit us one day. He got lost in Bauline, up the coast, instead of heading down the coast to Bauline East.

Sea  view.This was the view from the cabin. It was absolutely fantastic. The tiny cove still has a working wharf and fisher people are coming to and fro in their boats with their catch. My sister enjoyed watching them one morning and wondering what they were bringing in.

Seaside breakfast.The cove was also a nice place for breakfast. The camera is tilted from sitting on all the beach rocks. The sun was hot but the wind was not. A nice pot of tea warmed me up with the sea breeze blew by. Oh, and Hobnobs dipped in tea are delicious.

Cribbies cottage.The Cribbies, Tors Cove. We were told this is one of the most photographed cottages in Newfoundland. It’s right near the ocean and we saw seals and whales swimming and diving a short stroll away from the traditional saltbox home. The only reason I saw the sea life was because I glimpsed the sun glinting off a whale’s back.

Cape Spear. Cape Spear was windy, windy, windy and windy. Cold too. Couldn’t imagine being on watch there looking for U-boats during World War II. Lonely post. Now I have been to the western most part of Africa (when I was in Senegal) and the eastern most part of North America at Cape Spear.

Signel Hill.The view from Signal Hill was amazing. Look at that view of St. John’s narrows. My husband was using his mobile phone to tweet while at the national historical place and someone tweeted back, “Think about the message sent originally, and your message today.” Something to ponder.

  Terry Fox monument.This is the Terry Fox Mile Zero Memorial Site, the place where he dipped his foot into the Atlantic and started his Marathon of Hope. I’ve been to his monument in Thunder Bay and to the one in Victoria and now, the one in St. John’s.

Brides maid.Here I am in my bride maid’s dress. My shoulders are slumped because despite the shining sun, it was frosty and I was cold. At one point during wedding photos I wished my dress was made of fur. But pictures had to be done. I was part of my friend Neil’s wedding party. He and I go way back to the first day I moved into residence at Acadia.

Finally on the Rock

Bauline East, Newfoundland.

Bauline East, Newfoundland. We stayed in the orange cabin on the right.

As years pass St. John’s keeps beckoning to me from the waves. I’m a born and bred Bluenoser, a Nova Scotian, a Maritimer, but I’ve somehow skipped over seeing Newfoundland and Labrador. Probably because it has always been there. Hanging out in the Atlantic. Telling me it’s cool to see other parts of the world first.

Last week I finally made it to the Rock.

Since I now live in Calgary most of my trips usually consist of going home to Nova Scotia or to other more “exotic” spots. I’ve flown over Newfoundland to get to places like Glasgow and Warsaw and Senegal. I’ve made my way through the rest of Canada, from New Brunswick to the Northwest Territories to British Colombia. However, I’ve missed out on exploring our far east because I thought St. John’s would always be there. But thanks to a friend’s wedding I got a chance to visit the friendly province.

Landing in St. John’s there was a whole new world to explore. From listening to the ocean while sitting on a cabin deck in Bauline East, to eating fish and chips in Portugal Cove, to seeing the brightly painted houses in St. John’s, to taking in the colourful local language while being Screeched in. Of course, there was a lovely wedding in there too.

Beautiful September evening in Bauline East, Newfoundland.

Beautiful September evening in Bauline East, Newfoundland.

All these sights and sounds culminate into wonderful memories that I want to hold on to forever. But I know through the years the nuances of the trip will fade and dissipate into the dry Calgary air. I won’t remember the biting taste of Screech rum, I won’t remember how warm the wind was on my skin during a jaunt to Water Street and I won’t remember my sore feet from wearing high heels all day as a bridesmaid. Guess this means I’ll have to write some more about Newfoundland soon. Words are good reminders and help save those little things from escaping.

 

 

 

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