I’ve lived in many places throughout Canada, and even Germany: I was a military brat with no hometown. Now in retirement, I realize that everywhere I’ve ever lived holds a little piece of me, a little calling, a tugging to return. I finally visited one former province, Newfoundland and Labrador, to see the capital city of St. John’s. I was eager – I left Goose Bay in 1970 as a 12-year-old! I will let most of this post speak with pictures; it was a wonderful whirlwind of a week!
Natural Scenery : What’s to say. Stunning. Better than advertised. St. John’s sits in the bay of ancient glaciated rocks and hills and ocean. Pictures cannot capture the immensity and feel of these windswept vistas. Yet take pictures we must; we can’t let this scenery ever escape our eyes and mind.
History : This kind of natural beauty and resources invites people, people who’ve carved out a history on the land. Sometimes a rough history : strategic importance is evident in forts and military heritage.
Music, food, culture. Museums, both natural and artistic. Words fail the fabulous variety of such an ancient land with such a long, diverse history.
People: Rough yet rich in resources: the people are also rough and rich. Friendly and inviting, yet fiercely protective of their own. It both warmed my heart to be “included”, (I was welcomed for a book signing of Camp Follower One Army Brat’s Story for its Goose Bay stories), yet stung with a military child’s chagrin at the constant questions of : “Where are you from? Who are your people?” The culture here was my own, a little bit, this trip, but I’m ever an outsider.
Weather : Tough, yes. But worth it.
Newfoundland and Labrador, I’ll be back. Maybe that means I am a little bit Newfoundlander. It always tugs for return of its own.