Last month, I took a break from my writing and travelled back east with my husband Rob.
After visiting our daughter and family in Toronto, we flew via Montreal to St. John’s, the capital of Newfoundland, the one Canadian province we hadn’t been to. St. John’s is the oldest city in North America (first settlers, early 1600s), which I was surprised to discover. Unfortunately, because of three major fires—1816, 1846 and 1892—much of those old buildings no longer remain.
With a population of over 200,000 which includes the metropolitan area, St. John’s is unlike any other city I’ve been to. Quite a few of the city streets are haphazardly laid out, at diagonals at times, criss-crossing in ways that can strike fear in any driver unfamiliar with its peculiar flow of traffic. It’s as if whoever had planned them did them as a joke. But that’s part of this city’s appeal and charm. Nothing is as it should be.
In case you’re wondering why we’re so bundled up in the photo, as it was early June, the weather was below normal when we were there. Still, even when the weather is better, St. John’s is pounded on the east by the Atlantic Ocean, making it one of the colder cities in Canada. In fact, the capital can get snowfalls as late as June. So, we were prepared but boy, it was bracing.
Jelly Bean Houses
Take the houses. There are blocks and blocks of brightly coloured three story homes on the hilly streets that rise from the harbour.
We heard that the locals adopted the vivid colours as a way of helping them find their homes after a night of drinking. Especially when the fog rolled in.
The truth is their colourful streets were started by one man, David Webber, who as the executive director of a heritage foundation in the mid-1970s, came up with the idea of painting a sample block in bright colours as a way of refurbishing the grim-looking city centre.
The city council liked it so much they arranged a discount on paint for others to follow suit.
And then there’s George Street, a pedestrian only street lined with pubs. We managed to get to one, O’Reilly’s Irish Newfoundland Pub, which was highly recommended by our hostess at the B & B we stayed in.
We lucked out at the pub with not only the food—a delicious freshly caught cod dish—but also with the entertainer. He played his guitar non-stop for a few hours and sang both Irish songs and popular ballads. Of course, you know I’m a sucker for the Irish, having traveled to Ireland and used that beautiful country for a setting in my debut novel, A Cry From The Deep
While he was playing a rousing Irish dance, a couple of elderly gentlemen, who looked like brothers, got up and clogged for a bit. Rob says they shuffled. I thought they did more than that. You be the judge.
There is no shortage of things to do in St. John’s. The highlights of course were the brightly painted houses, George Street, Signal Hill with its fabulous view of St. Johns, and Cape Spears with its historic lighthouse. The latter boasted the fact that it is the most easterly point of North America.
More To Follow
I’ll be following this post up with more notes on our travels through St. John’s and the rest of the province, one I wish we’d had more time to explore. And more time to talk with the locals. You can’t find a more friendly bunch.
By the way, I took my laptop but did no writing. However, I read three books. All gems. More on that, next post.
- What Makes For A Good Father?
- A Middle Class Life In A Nineteenth Century Lighthouse