Life Abroad

Hiking Gros Morne Mountain, Newfoundland

2013-10-16T08:10:00.000-04:00

On our final full day in Newfoundland, we decided to hike Gros Morne Mountain – the second tallest mountain in Newfoundland, and the longest, most strenuous climb of my life. Looking back to that day, months ago, I wish I could say that I remember it with fondness. But no. What I remember is arguably the hardest physical challenge of my life, and probably one of the most formative experiences I’ve had to date. But let’s start back at the beginning, shall we?

It started out as most days should: with a hearty breakfast at the Granite Cafe. With our backpacks loaded full of water, snacks, and first aid kits, we drove to the base of the mountain. Here’s a “before” shot:

The signs posted for the mountain indicated that it was a 6-8 hour hike, of about 16km. From our discussions with people at B&Bs throughout our trip, we were told that as long as we took our time, we could definitely hike it with ease. I am not a mountain climber, nor do I regularly hike. Despite this, they all assured me that I would be fine. The first 4km of the James Callaghan trail lead you through steadily uphill terrain, on marked paths, through a forest, to an elevation of 320m (the base of the mountain). The steady climb was beautiful, but tiring. We hike over babbling brooks, through blueberry patches, and deep into muddy forest.

After the 4km, you’ll reach a “lookout” area. This is the official “decision point.” Here you’ll be able to see the mountain sprawling out ahead of you, and can decide whether it is too late in the day to attempt a summit, or if the weather is appropriate to continue. All of the Parks Canada guidelines say that if it is a foggy day, you should absolutely forego the climb to the top, as many hikers have become disoriented and lost on the summit as a result of inclement weather. While having a snack and admiring the views at the lookout point, we saw a black bear foraging along the mountainside, not too far from where the climbers were beginning their ascent.

In the mountain photos above, the rocky crevasse area is called the “gully”, and is where you climb up to get to the summit. In the second picture above, if you look closely, you can see some hikers making their way up the steep boulders. While the Parks Canada website indicates that this gully section will take “at least an hour”, it took us more like…3 hours. Seriously, this was the worst. The boulders are large and loose, which makes climbing up them incredibly difficult. You have to be sure to get solid footing, and so each step is calculated and deliberate. It’s slow-going, for that reason alone. Of course, there were individuals who bounded up the mountain like mountain goats (ahem, Chris, ahem), but for those of us who are a bit more sure-footed, it takes a while. We made frequent stops too, which only added to our time-tally. But with 30 degree weather, we wanted to be sure we were getting enough water throughout the day.

The views from halfway up the gully were gorgeous though!

As we climbed further and further, the rocks became smaller and smaller. They were sharp though, and ended up cutting a hole in my brand new Merill Vibram-soled hiking shoes. Keeping my cool through the steeper parts of the small, loose-rocked mountain face proved difficult too. But we kept on climbing, and with Chris cheering me on, I was able to remain positive throughout most of it. Below is what we had to climb up – Chris preferred the zig-zag approach, while I was more of a “straight up to the top” type girl.

For me, the final push to the summit was the most difficult part of the climb up. As soon as I thought we were almost at the top, we would turn a bend and there would be another steep rock face staring down at us. It seemed to never end. At one point, near the top of the mountain, I couldn’t gain my footing on the slippery rock face. The more I scrambled to climb up, the more rocks fell beneath me. It was a terrifying 10 ~~hours~~ seconds. And then, like a beacon in the distance, I saw the summit marker. Pure relief.

It took us 6 hours to reach the 806m summit. I was exhilarated, exhausted, and floating in a surreal state (probably a mixture of the fatigue, dehydration, and relief of making it to the top).

We did it! The summit was mostly rock, with little rock “cairns” erected to mark the path. Overall, it felt barren, hostile, formidable, and eerie. (and yes, we bought matching Gros Morne hiking shirts to wear on the summit – feel free to make fun, we recognize how incredibly nerdy that is)…

We wound our way through the trails to the iconic lookout point that stretches out over Ten Mile Pond. Along the way we were in awe of the scenery – the other mountain tops surrounding us had beautiful fjords on them, and the clouds made for a sun-dappled effect. Truly a once in a lifetime view (for me, ain’t no one gettin’ me to the top of that mountain again, ha!)

We finally reached the lookout point, and took the obligatory photographs. Then we settled down onto a somewhat flat rock to enjoy our “lunch”. Looking back, we should have packed a hearty lunch with protein-rich foods. Instead, we had potato chips, granola, some juice, and some candies. Not smart, Chris and Heather, not smart at all.

As much as we wished we could stay on the summit for a while longer, the clouds were rolling in quickly and if we didn’t move quickly, the sun would surely set on our descent. The last thing we wanted was to be stuck on the summit of the mountain for the night with no food or water left. So we began our 6km climb down the backside of the mountain, on a decidedly less steep trail than the stone boulder gully we climbed up. For me, the descent was harder than the ascent. I was gravely dehydrated, tired, and my footing was becoming clumsy and less deliberate. Chris used tablets he brought to make some fresh jugs of water for us using water in a stream, but it seemed to be too little too late. Needless to say, the next four hours were some of the hardest of my life.

When we finally reached the original lookout point, we spotted another black bear, which was a lot closer than the first one, rummaging around a hillside for berries. Maybe it was a good thing that I was in a dazed state on the climb down, because we continuously passed bear droppings on the trail, and I’m pretty sure if I had my wits about me I would’ve been scared.

The photo below is us as the end of the climb. At this point I was just happy to be able to stand. As soon as we got into the car I immediately knew something was very very wrong. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move. Within an hour I was extremely ill and had to be rushed to the Bonne Bay hospital for heat exhaustion and dehydration. Long story short, I spent the evening in the hospital and have never been so grateful for the comfort of a hospital cot, a pillow, and a quiet dark room. It was one of those experiences where I saw how strong of a man Chris is, and how well he takes care of me. Despite the poor ending to the climb (24 hours later, I was feeling weak but back to normal), I now look back on it with a mixture of emotions. It was physically gruelling for me. For those of you who are in great shape and regularly climb mountains, you would be able to do it easily, no problem. Now, when I’m faced with a situation of discomfort, I think back to our Gros Morne climb and remember what true discomfort and pain feels like, and how I endured such pain for 12 hours of the climb. It puts everything else into perspective, and I’m proud that I was able to do it. For me, as a girl who would rather spend the afternoon shopping on Bloor Street rather than trekking into the wilderness, it was a big deal. So now, above my desk, I have a tiny sliver of the summit of Gros Morne looking down at me, as a constant reminder of the experience of summiting my very first mountain.

Gros Morne National Park

2013-10-07T23:39:00.001-04:00

After my experience this summer camping in Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland, I’d have to say that one of my favourite parts of camping was waking up in the morning. Warm and cozy in the tent, I’d listen to the sounds coming from outside in the early morning hours: Chris piling dry firewood in the pit, the snap and crackle of the burgeoning fire, and the coffee roaster clanging as it slides onto the grill. When my stomach began to growl, I’d unzip the tent and emerge into some of the most beautiful surroundings I’ve ever been in.

Once our tummies were full of eggs and bacon and tomatoes, we’d wash up at the comfort station and head to the Discovery Centre. On our second morning in Gros Morne, Chris bought me a large wooden walking stick from the Discovery Centre gift shop for our hikes. Our plan, upon arriving in the park, was to climb to the top of Gros Morne Mountain – the tallest mountain in Newfoundland, at a whopping 806m. Unfortunately it was fairly overcast on our third morning there, and so the mountain would have to wait (hiking up the mountain in cloudy weather was a recipe for disaster, we were told, as the fog can often make hikers disoriented at the summit). Instead, we decided to climb the decidedly less strenuous “lookout” hike.

It started off as a leisurely hike up the mountain, on clearly marked trails. It was fairly muddy and path was rocky and uneven in places, but overall, it was quite an easy 5km hike.

The final push to the top of the mountain led us up a steep boardwalk and some steps, to the most beautiful vistas. We sat on the red Muskoka chairs as we ate some fruit and took in the scenery.

The wind had picked up and the rain began to come down, so we started our descent. The first part of the hike back down (we went down a different loop than what we came up) took us through a beautiful little bog, over footbridges. In the fierce wind, red-tipped green grasses swished and danced. It was a surreal experience to see how these grasses, which truly looked “fibre-optic” moved – I wish the pictures could do them justice, but sadly, they do not.

As we left the bog, the rain cleared up and we found our way back in the forest of the mountain. The hood of my North Face jacket was still up, creating a “blinders” effect, when Chris said from behind me, “Moose!” I stopped in my tracks, and began swivelling around trying to see it. Of course, with my hood up around my face, I had zero visibility and literally jumped in shock at seeing a young female moose a few feet away! We remained calm, and the moose slowly walked past us, leapt across the trail, and continued to graze casually in the meadow.

The hike felt invigorating and took a good two hours, which, in my opinion, is the perfect length of time for a nice hike. We drove into Woody Point, a town within Gros Morne National Park, and had some lunch at the Old Loft restaurant. I enjoyed my salted cod, while Chris tried the fish cakes (cod with mashed potatoes and herbs, fried into little cakes). We washed it all down with bakeapple and partridgeberry juice!

For dessert, Chris finally got to try the famous “touton” – a Newfoundland staple! A touton (pronounced “tao-t’en”) is a piece of fried dough, commonly served with molasses (or “lassie”, as it is called in Newfoundland). Since we arrived in St. John’s at the beginning of our journey, Chris had been trying to order a touton everywhere we visited. Sadly, the toutons were always sold out! Finally, in Gros Morne at the Old Loft restaurant, Chris got to try toutons with lassie, alongside a cup of tea. In Newfoundland, tea and toutons are called a “Newfie Mug-up”! He loved them.

After our lunch we headed out to the back deck to take in the sights. I loved how deep blue the sky and water were, as the storm rolled in.

In the main floor of the Old Loft restaurant, you’ll find a gift shop. Sometimes I like to take photos of the souvenirs on sale in the places I visit (which Chris thinks is totally weird), but I truly think you can tell a lot about a place by the things its vendors sell. For instance, I would never choose to purchase a replica “mummer” from Newfoundland, but thanks to the picture below, I’ll remember them. (Mummers are a Newfoundland thing that we learned about while visiting. Mummers are people who, at Christmas time, dress up in disguises and knock on their neighbour’s doors. The neighbours then have to let them in and typically give them some screech (rum) or yummy goodies.) There were also beautifully hand-knit mittens and socks for sale everywhere, which I loved. A few weeks after we returned home, Chris surprised me with a birthday present of a pair of beautiful cream knit mittens with fluffy fur cuffs.

Wrapped in a touton-induced warmth, we strolled through the small downtown area of Woody Point (which is a seriously cute little town) before hopping into the SUV and driving up to the Gros Morne recreation centre. We spent the rest of the evening soaking in the hot tubs there, soothing our muscles in preparation for the next day’s hike. Chris amused me by doing ~~belly flops~~ dives in the lap pool alongside all the local kids.

When we arrived back at camp, the moon was, once again, crystal clear. This time, however, there was a bright red ring around it. It was stunning. If anyone knows why there would be a red ring around the moon, please comment and let me know! We were intrigued. It almost looked like a sunset…seriously, Newfoundland is an incredible place.

The Tablelands, Gros Morne National Park

2013-09-25T08:53:00.001-04:00

We awoke in our tent in the Trout River Pond campsite in Gros Morne National Park. Being my first time camping, I was just happy to have survived the night without encountering one of the many black bears that roam the park!

To wake up in Gros Morne National Park was a special experience. Early in the morning, the clouds were hanging low over the mountains. The lakes (or “ponds” as they’re called in Newfoundland) were glassy and smooth, and there were no other people around. It felt like we had the park to ourselves.

In town, we went to a little cafe and breakfast spot, the Granite Coffee House, where we looked out at the gorgeous sunny view of the national park. Gros Morne is home to the Tablelands – the only spot in the world where the earth’s mantle is showing! Needless to say we lingered for a while, just taking in the scenery as we ate fresh fruit and drank strong coffee.

After breakfast we made a pit-stop at one of the many look-out points scattered throughout the park. We loved how Gros Morne had two Muskoka chairs stationed at almost every look-out. While taking in the view, we noticed the beautiful water-fall trickling down the side of the Tablelands, and immediately decided to hike up to it.

Every morning at 10am, the national park offers a guided walking tour of the Tablelands. The trail takes about 1-2 hours, and is a mild walk on mostly flat terrain. While we were there, we met a father and son who walked it – and the father was 90 years old! Inspiration. Instead of taking the trail, we decided to climb up the side of the mountain (which is allowed in the Tablelands).

The hike was mostly on loose yellowish-red boulders and rocks. The rocks were absolutely incredible – yellow rock with thick pieces of blackish blue “snake-skin” in them. This type of rock is aptly named “Serpentinite” – I’d never seen anything like it.

Another cool part of the hike were the bright white flowers we saw growing in this inhospitable landscape. Even the stems were white, which made them stand out against the rock quite vividly.

When we made it to our destination, the water-fall, we had the urge to keep climbing. The rocks became looser and and hill got much steeper. Even though I had moments of panic, the view was so gorgeous that I just kept climbing.

I just couldn’t get over how vastly different the landscape at the Tablelands was from the rest of the park. On one side of the road it’s lush green rolling mountains with bright blue lakes, while on the other it’s yellow flat rocky slabs. Very cool.

When the mountain became too steep for my liking, Chris continued on up to the “bowl” alone. I sat perched on a rocky out-cropping and took in the view (and snapped some pictures of my man at the top!). While in the “bowl” he saw huge waterfalls and said it was absolutely gorgeous.

After a long day around the national park, we headed back to our campsite. Chris built a fire and whittled me the perfect marshmallow-roasting stick. We used our random assortment of groceries to cook up a “breakfast pot” – one of our creations using bacon, veggies, eggs and cheese on the fire. It was delicious! As I mentioned, this was my first experience camping. It was so fun for me to sit around the fire with Chris, in the midst of this gorgeous part of Canada. We finished off the night with a marshmallow roasting competition and some gazing at the full, clear moon. It was stunning to see how bright the moon was – it lit up the whole campsite in a way that I’ve never seen before (but it also caused the temperature to drop that evening to below freezing – brrr!).

Another amazing day full of adventures in Newfoundland!

More Vikings! Norstead, Newfoundland

2013-09-18T09:29:00.001-04:00

Determined to take in as much history as we could while up in the Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland, Chris and I decided to visit Norstead, a Viking replica village, on our last morning there. We pulled into Norstead just as it was opening, and were pleasantly surprised to have the whole place to ourselves. It felt like we were stumbling upon a Viking village that was frozen in time.

Our first stop was to see the big Viking replica ship, the Snorri. The Snorri was made a few years ago, using exactly the same techniques and materials as the Vikings used to create their ship. It was also modeled after the shape of the boat. The ship’s builders eventually tried to sail the boat from Iceland to Newfoundland, re-creating the journey the Vikings once took. Unfortunately, their first attempt failed and the Canadian coast guard was called to save them. After a few tweaks to the rudder, the crew tried again, and managed to successfully duplicate the exact journey, using the same type of ship, that the Vikings took centuries ago.

After visiting Snorri we ambled along a black slate beach. It was stunning. I especially loved seeing a small bit of vegetation bursting up through the inhospitable-looking stone.

We toured through some of the other Viking buildings – the blacksmith shop, the church, and the weaving/knitting room. All of the re-enactors stayed true to character, and the whole site was really well done. We were glad we came.

In the “trading post”, we played a Viking game called “9 Man Mill” with one of the re-enactors.

After successfully defeating my opponents, we went out to the back of the settlement to try our hand at throwing some axes. Chris got it on his first try, while I eventually had to give up in defeat.

Oh well, you can’t win ‘em all! Our morning excursion to Norstead was well worth the $10 entry fee. It was fun just wandering around the settlement, and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. If you’re in the area, I would recommend a visit, if only to bolster your knowledge of the Viking way of life after visiting the actual historic site in L’anse aux Meadows.

We spent the rest of our day in the car, driving back down to Gros Morne National Park, where we stopped in Norris Point for dinner at “Justin Thyme”, and then continued on to our camp site in Trout River Pond…but that’s a story for another day.

L’anse Aux Meadows–Land of the Vikings

2013-09-14T23:13:00.001-04:00

During our time in Newfoundland, we stayed at bed and breakfasts most of the time. Why? Because often we were in small communities where there were no hotels or other options. The few B&Bs there were booked up months in advance (we booked in April and had a hard time finding availability for August). One of the hardest places to find a B&B was in L’anse Aux Meadows, but luckily, we found the Valhalla Lodge. While the accommodations were decent, they were overpriced and our host was, unfortunately, not very friendly. On our first morning there, we sat down at the breakfast table. It was heaping with toast, muffins, and dried cereal. Even though we had called ahead and notified her of my gluten allergy (which she said she would accommodate), there was nothing for me to eat. I mentioned this to her, and she told me that there was jam, and that I should just eat jam. That’s it. Plain jam on a spoon. My face must have shown a look of pure horror, because the next morning she had made a nice little rice pudding for us (which, I’ll admit, was very kind of her). Still, for the price we were paying to stay there, I expected more than jam for breakfast.

Anyway, the reason we drove up the Northern Peninsula was to visit L’anse Aux Meadows, a national historic site where the only North American Viking settlement was. It was pretty awe-inspiring to see the landscape, relatively unchanged since the Vikings sailed across from Iceland.

While you can take a guided walking tour through the historic site, we chose to explore on our own. The Vikings lived in L’anse Aux Meadows for approximately two decades, and built buildings out of sod. The bottom parts of the mounds of their sod huts still remain today:

In the 1960s, a man from Iceland (Mr. Ingstad), discovered the sod hut mounds in L’anse Aux Meadows. He had been trying to find the Viking settlement commonly heard about in Icelandic sagas: Vinland. Shortly after finding the mounds, which had erroneously been thought to be Indian burial grounds, Mrs. Ingstad, an archaeologist, came to L’anse Aux Meadows to begin excavation. Along with the mounds, other artefacts were uncovered (like sewing needles and hunting tools).

A replica of the Viking settlement, Vinland, can also be found on the grounds. It mirrors the exact dimensions and locations of the mounds.

We ventured inside, where we came across some friendly Viking re-enactors who let us see their home.

Everyone was commenting on how Chris looked like he was of Viking lineage, and that he would’ve been an enormous Viking (who were only about 5’8” tall). After touring the site, Chris took off on another whale watching tour, crossing his fingers that he’d have better luck this time spotting a whale. I drove up to the St. Anthony’s lighthouse, where I enjoyed a cod lunch at the Lighthouse Restaurant. Not a bad view, eh?

After lunch I took a little hike down the Iceberg Alley trail, stopping to look at all the vegetation growing in this sub-Arctic environment.

It was a gorgeous hike that took me through some walkways above boggy land. I sat at the lighthouse at the end of the trail and watched the ocean and whale-watching boats come in and out of the bay.

When I met up with Chris back at the whale watching dock (he had seen a ton of humpback and minke whales!), we drove back towards L’anse Aux Meadows for another hike (we were all about the hikes on this trip!). Before getting to the park, though, we popped into Coffee in the Cove for mochas on the back deck. We compared notes about our respective afternoons while gazing out at the most scenic, peaceful view.

Our afternoon hike led us through cliff-hugging trails and across scenic bogs. At one point during our hike, Chris looked down at the swirling ocean below, at a little cove carved out of the jutting cliffs – “that looks like a nice place for a swim” he said. No longer than three seconds later, a family of four sea otters popped their heads out of the water. They were scavenging for blue mussels, and were darting in and out of the waves, chirping at us high above them.

It was a beautiful hike, and we managed to finally see bakeapples (the orange berries, above), in the wild! For dinner, we went to the Leifsbrudir Viking Dinner Theatre in St. Anthony’s. We feasted on traditional Newfoundland cuisine (like fisherman’s brewis, moose stew, and cod tongues) in a sod hut set into the cliffside.

The dinner theatre was supposed to be a Viking “all-things” ceremony: where marriages, disputes, divorces, etc. were settled by the Viking community. The Vikings would bang their fists on the table in support or disagreement.

We met some really interesting couples who had been travelling all over the world, and swapped travel stories over our Viking feast. One of the most memorable evenings we’ve ever had, that’s for sure.

Along Newfoundland’s Northern Peninsula

2013-09-14T17:27:00.001-04:00

Our day started in the busy bed and breakfast kitchen at the Anchor Down Inn. Our hosts, Vera and Dave Connor, made a wonderful breakfast spread. Since we called ahead and let them know I don’t eat gluten, they graciously offered to make me a gluten-free meal for me: scrambled eggs and potatoes, fried bologna (a traditional Newfoundland food), fruit, and gluten-free bread with bakeapple jam. Yum! After our stomachs were full, we got in the SUV and began our drive up Newfoundland’s Northern Peninsula, along the 430 highway.

Our first stop was the Arches Provincial Park, where we escaped the rain under two rock arches formed near the ocean.

An hour or so up the highway, we stopped in at a national park – Port au Choix. We spent some time learning about the Paleoeskimos (and four other types of people – like the Beothuk and Groswater Indians) who settled in the area. We ate lunch at a nearby restaurant: cod au gratin for me, and moose pie with a bun and molasses for Chris.

We drove and drove, with the compass in the car pointed due North. We rarely saw another car on the road, and occasionally would pass small clusters of homes (all with big ATVs and piles of firewood in their front yards). When our legs were getting restless, we pulled over at a beach in Schoal’s Bay and went for a little beach-combing expedition.

The beach was covered in blue Newfoundland mussels and “live rocks” (rocks coated in coral). If the live rocks were pink, it meant the coral was still alive. If they were white, the coral had already been in the sun too long. The green barnacle, above, is typically found clinging to the outside of a whale! Super cool.

Back on the road, we passed fishing village after fishing village, all clustered together, but nowhere near schools, hospitals, or grocery stores. We had fun thinking about how different life must be like in these isolated communities. As we were driving, we passed a small cemetery along the highway. Inside the cemetery was a young bull moose!! Chris pulled over and got out of the car to snap some pictures, while I stayed safely inside the vehicle.

Not too long after seeing our little moose buddy, we screeched to a stop before narrowly missing a small coyote on the road. He posed for the camera, thankful that we had such good brakes!

The rest of the journey was mostly desolate landscapes: bogs, blue spruce, and ocean. We did manage to see an ice-berg though, through our binoculars, way way off along the horizon. As we were passing through a cluster of homes, I saw a rickety shed with the sign “last gas station for 100km”. “Pull over!” I said to Chris, and he did a quick U-turn and circled back for gas. I was thankful to know that our gas tank was now full enough for the rest of the journey, and Chris was thankful for the tiny bag of gummy candies he procured at the “mini-mart”.

While on most vacations I loathe the thought of sitting in the car, driving for long stretches of time, this vacation was different. There was so much to see (even though the landscape itself was quite desolate). For instance, we passed tons of little vegetable gardens right along the highway, set up against the tree line. We later learned that the families who live in the coastal fishing villages create little gardens along the highway, where the soil is richer and the temperature doesn’t fluctuate as much, making it ideal to plant cabbages, carrots, potatoes, and cucumbers. We also saw piles of firewood everywhere, and learned that local people receive licenses to go into the forest to cut down wood. In the winter, they drag large wooden sleighs through the bush to retrieve the cut wood, and then neatly pile it along the highway, or stack it in circular formations. We loved the subsistence way of life in this part of Newfoundland.

We arrived in Gunner’s Cove, our destination, and checked into the Valhalla Lodge. We stayed in Snorri’s cabin – it was clean, private, and quiet. For dinner, we drove down the road to a little restaurant where we rewarded ourselves after a long day in the car by feasting on lobster, roast beef, specialty coffees (like the “Viking Thaw”), and a banana split.

Jump Salmon, Jump!

2013-09-11T09:39:00.001-04:00

After saying goodbye to Melinda at the Harbour Lights Inn, we hit the road, en route to Gros Morne National Park, on the western side of Newfoundland. At around lunchtime, we were passing through Grand Falls-Windsor, and decided to stop in at the suggestion of Wince, the man we met at the dinner theatre the night before. We dined at “48 High”, a cute little bistro-style restaurant in the downtown core, before driving to the Salmonid Interpretation Centre.

The Salmonid Interpretation Centre consists of a series of “fish ladders”, whereby salmon from a nearby river get funnelled into the ladder and jump upstream, ending up in another river with a higher elevation. Although it wasn’t the high season for the salmon run, we did manage to see quite a few Atlantic salmon jumping from one level to the next. It was fascinating, and I was obsessed with trying to get a good “salmon in action” jumping picture. These are the best I managed to capture (those salmon are fast!):

After watching the salmon jump into the holding tank, where they’re counted for scientific and observational purposes, we walked underneath the building, to watch the salmon from below the water.

Outside, you can walk along metal grate pathways, while looking down to see the salmon jumping beneath you.

We spent some time at the look-out point, trying to figure out what the different buildings were perched on the banks of the beautiful river.

I even spotted an enormous grey-haired salmon jumping for its life, upstream!

There was a blonde salmon too, but it failed miserably at jumping ;)

After our brief pit-stop in Grand Falls-Windsor, we were on the road again, headed west. The landscape changed dramatically from the east to west coasts, and became more rugged. We were constantly driving up a large hill, only to spot a beautiful mountain lake on the top of it, followed by a steep hill down into a valley of trees. We passed a few “moose zones” too, which consisted of flashing lights alerting vehicles to the presence of moose on the road (which were detected by large censors erected on the side of the highway).

About six hours later, we reached our destination – Gros Morne National Park! We were immediately awestruck by the beauty of this place. Tree-covered mountains, bright blue lakes, and sky as far as the eye could see.

While we only stayed in Rocky Harbour, a town within Gros Morne National Park, for one evening, we were happy to have gotten a taste of what it was like (since we were coming back down to camp there for the last leg of our trip). After a hearty meal of moose chilli at the Sunset Restaurant in Rocky Harbour, we checked into the Anchor Down Inn for a restful evening.

Twillingate

2013-09-04T16:20:00.001-04:00

What started as an after-thought stop added to our list of places to see in Newfoundland, quickly became my favourite part of our journey. Twillingate is on the northeast peninsula of Newfoundland; about a five hour drive from St. John’s. We stayed at the Harbour Lights Inn – it was a great spot in terms of location…close to the harbour, the main street, and the lighthouse. Melinda, the innkeeper, was cute as a button and extremely helpful during our stay. She made heaping bowls of fresh fruit for breakfast, and had toast and freshly baked muffins from a woman down the road. For me, she fried up some eggs (gluten-free in Newfoundland was hard, but she was so accommodating).

The yellow gabled house on the left, above, is the Harbour Lights Inn, where we stayed.

On our first day in Twillingate, Chris went whale watching. Our “package” with the Harbour Lights Inn included a whale watching excursion for two, and two seafood platters at Addy’s Seafood Cafe. Sadly, due to my motion sickness, I decided to forego the whale watching. Chris dropped me off at the red and white lighthouse, where I spent the morning exploring on my own.

Here are my ingredients for a successful afternoon spent wandering around the Twillingate lighthouse.

Step 1: Tour the scenic look-out points surrounding the lighthouse grounds, and point to craggy rocks jutting out of the ocean, shouting “whale!”, causing the other tourists around you to frantically grab their cameras/binoculars. Psych! (note: in my defense, I genuinely thought it was a whale haha)

Step 2: Take copious amounts of photos of the little white sheds and buildings hugging the cliffs around the lighthouse.

Step 3: Tour the lighthouse exhibit (it changes every few months). While I was there, it was the Titanic Story: a fascinating self-guided tour about what really happened on the Titanic, and what really caused it to sink (the connection here is that the Titanic hit an ice-berg off the coast of Newfoundland). It was a fascinating portrayal of the greed, corporate dimension, safety oversights, and class distinctions of the time. As I entered the museum, I was given a ticket to “board” the Titanic. On the ticket was the name of someone who was actually on the ship. After working your way through the museum, you can check the log books of the survivors and those who passed away in the disaster, and see whether you “survived". Kind of an interesting twist to a little museum.

Step 4: Climb the dizzying, claustrophobic steps up to the top of the lighthouse for some sweet views of the ocean and landscape in Twillingate.

Step 5: When you get down from that little lighthouse, find a spot on the grounds to lay a blanket, eat some snacks, and call your mom at home who misses you dearly.

Step 6: When you begin to fancy something a bit sweeter to eat, cross the road to the tiny gift shop and buy pounds of fudge. I seemed to have under-estimated how much a half pound of fudge was, and asked for two different kinds, a 1/2 pound each…the woman was stunned and instantly gave me another 1/2 pound for free, for having bought so much! Needless to say, we were up to our ears in praline, choco-mint, partridgeberry, and peanut butter chocolate fudge for the rest of our vacation. Yolo.

After about 2.5 hours, Chris picked me up and we set off back into town to eat our seafood feast. Sadly, Chris didn’t see any whales during his excursion, but he did see lots of water and rocks! Ha. We found a nice spot on the deck outside at Addy’s, and eagerly awaited our seafood platters. Newfoundland is famous for its fresh, Atlantic seafood! We had high expectations. In a disappointing turn of events, we learned that all the seafood was deep-fried, and when I asked whether they could refrain from battering my cod (gluten!), she told me that that was the way it was purchased and frozen. The “fresh veggies” that were supposed to come with our meal were freezer-burned carrots and canned corn. Not exactly what I consider fresh. The mussels were ok though, and we did try some Newfoundland wine, straight from the Auk Island Winery in Twillingate. I had the “Wreckhouse” while Chris opted for the “Moose Joose”.

At least the views were pretty! I loved all the colourful fishing boats and clapboard homes. There’s something about nautical towns that I absolutely adore.

After lunch we wandered around the harbour, soaking in the beautiful summer weather and wishing that we could freeze time.

Coming from a world famous wine region, Niagara, I was quite interested in the Auk Island Winery in Twillingate. We decided to check it out, and did a full tasting and tour, for $5 each. The tour showed us where the wines are made – instead of using grapes, the wines are made from local berries delivered by townspeople: strawberry, blueberry, bakeapple, partridgeberry, and rhubarb. They’re mixed with imported grapes from Quebec (grapes can’t withstand the harsh Newfoundland weather). At the tasting, we had a good time trying all the varieties with the craziest names: Funky Puffin, Wreckhouse, Sleveens, Spin the Bottle, etc. I wasn’t too fond of any of them, but they were ok, and the iceberg dessert wines were quite tasty.

Throughout our time in Newfoundland, we saw tons of signs advertising “dinner theatres”. These weren’t big flashy dinner theatres like you would think – these were small signs out front of local churches or legions. Very quaint and, based on what we heard, very typical of Newfoundland. Determined to get the true “local Newfoundlander” experience while on our trip, we decided to visit the “All Around the Circle” dinner theatre in Twillingate.

The dinner theatre was held in a rented building, just a few minutes outside of town. It was very busy when we arrived, and we were thankful to have called ahead to reserve tickets. We were seated in a big hall at long table, where we met a nice man, Wince, from Grand Falls-Windsor, who explained all the “Newfoundlander” jokes to me throughout the show. The dinner was delicious: homemade soup, mashed potatoes, salmon, green beans, and ice-cream. After the actors had served up dinner and cleared away the plates, the show began. It ran for nearly three hours, but had us laughing the entire time. It started with some folk songs, but quickly turned into a hilarious sketch comedy show that could easily rival SNL. We were pleasantly surprised, to say the least. One of my favourite moments was when a man played the “Ugly Stick” – a traditional Newfoundland instrument made of a stick, a doll’s head, a rubber boot, and beer bottle caps! Despite its hideous appearance, the music that came from it was absolutely incredible!

I cannot recommend visiting the “All Around the Circle” dinner theatre enough – it was a bit cheesy at times, and the audience was older than us, but we truly had the best time. Just to see how the local people spent their evenings, in a way that is so different than what is found in downtown Toronto, was an experience that I’ll never forget! Plus we got to learn local Newfoundland folk songs, like Jack the Whaler, and meet some of the kindest and warmest people.

The Avalon Peninsula, Newfoundland

2013-09-03T21:50:00.001-04:00

Just a few hours south of St. John’s is the Avalon Peninsula, home to the famous Lighthouse Picnics. Unfortunately, Lighthouse Picnics was closed the day we went (on Tuesdays), and was booked for weeks in advance anyway. With a picturesque picnic lunch out of the question, we stopped in at the Tetley Tea Room in Ferryland for some lunch instead. It was a cute little place, and reminded me of a grandmother’s kitchen.

We sipped hot tea and dug into homemade bowls of soup, with each spoonful feeling like a big warm bear hug. Chris loved the piping hot lunch rolls, and I enjoyed my gluten-free “Christmas sandwich” (turkey and cranberry). For dessert, Chris indulged in partridgeberry pudding with lemon curd. Yum!

After lunch we walked up to a pretty red and white lighthouse, standing proud on a large cliff above a series of jagged cliffs. We passed an island where, during the war, the women of Ferryland had to fend off the French forces because all of the men were off fighting another battle.

With the place to ourselves, Chris set up a blanket and quickly fell into a soup-induced coma, while I roamed around with my camera. I made it to a rocky outcropping, and eventually called to Chris so that he would know where I was. Within seconds, I saw a black thing moving through the water towards me. A whale! It’s head popped up, and I could hear it snorting in the ocean forty feet below me. I snapped some pictures, until it disappeared into the inky blue. A short while later, I called to Chris again…and lo and behold, the black thing returned, swimming lazily around under the rocks below. When Chris awoke, I excitedly explained that I had seen a whale, and showed him the gazillion pictures that I took. We sat intently for the next hour or so, determined to spot “whaley” again. We finished eating our freshly picked wild blueberries, and watched as birds nose-dived into the ocean below.

Then, in the distance, we saw the breaching of a brown-coloured whale, and shortly thereafter, “whaley” appeared again.

The scenery in the area, by the way, we absolutely gorgeous. The golden grasses, tiny shrubbery, bright blue water, and rocky cliffs constantly made me pick up my camera. I loved too how, all over Newfoundland, the lighthouses are red and white. Such a pretty contrast to the blues and greens in the landscape.

Chris watched him intently from his perch on a rocky crag, while I stayed further back, on safer ground. We were convinced it was a baby humpback, after much research on the visual information boards posed throughout the province. Unfortunately, days later, we learned that it was a seal, not a whale, from two marine biologists who ran a whale watching tour out of Twillingate. Sadness!

As the sun was setting, we hiked back to the rental SUV and drove back up to St. John’s. We stopped for dinner in Cape Broyle at the Riverside Restaurant, where we sat on the outdoor deck beneath webs of spiders, and indulged in a basket of steaming hot mussels with garlic butter sauce – a perfect way to end a day in Avalon.

Cape Spear sunrise and lobster dinners

2013-09-03T14:28:00.000-04:00

Cape Spear is the most easterly point of North America, which means that the sun rises on Cape Spear first! After being the only two people watching the sun set on the most westerly point of Europe last November in Portugal, we wanted to be the first two people in North America to see the sun rise. This meant that we had to wake up at the crazy hour of 4:30am to drive out to Cape Spear.

After a thirty minute drive from downtown St. John’s, we arrived in the empty car-park, with some rain beginning to fall. We marched up the numerous steps to the lighthouse, and attempted to find the exact point that would put us closest to the east.

We watched as two more cars pulled into the parking lot down below. Then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. The clouds were so thick, that much to our dismay, the only “sunrise” we were able to see was this:

These were our “excited about the sunrise that never was” faces:

Oh Newfoundland and your rainy little weather. Somehow, though, we felt the vastness and beauty of Cape Spear, even without the scorching sunrise (and meteor shower, which happened the day prior to our visit there).

In the drizzling rain and heavy fog, we wandered around Cape Spear. We stumbled across a WWII bunker, and then a memorial dedicated to all those who have lost their lives slipping into the ocean from the slick cliffs of the cape.

On our drive back to the hotel, we listened to the local radio station for the first time. “Today’s forecast: rain. In other news, there’s a huge moose on Witch Hazel Road, so watch out on the morning commute!” I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep, or how frank and different it was than the Toronto morning radio show, but we found this quite funny!

The rest of the day we spent driving up to the Northeast of Newfoundland, to our destination: Twillingate. We made a pit stop at Terra Nova National Park, where we played with a tank full of starfish that children (and those young at heart) could touch. They were surprisingly squishy!

For lunch we feasted in the Clarenville shopping centre: pan-fried cod and moose burgers. There were so many traditional Newfoundland food items on the menu, that we had a great time asking the waitress all about them: Christmas sandwiches (turkey and cranberry), Newfie steak (bologna), and fisherman’s brewis (hard bread with salted cod). We also stopped in at a small “farmer’s market” to pick up some fresh strawberries and a jar of bakeapples (orange Newfoundland bog berries).

As we neared Twillingate, we began to see signs advertising fresh lobster dinners. I couldn’t bear to pass another lobster restaurant, or “lobster pool” as they were called, and asked Chris to turn in at the next one. At Sansome’s Lobster Pool we tucked into a lobster roll and lobster dinner, cracking and dipping our way through those tasty crustaceans! Now I felt like I was on the east coast of Canada!

St. John’s, Newfoundland–Part One

2013-08-26T22:59:00.001-04:00

Chris and I just got back from a vacation in Newfoundland, one of the Canadian Maritime provinces on the east coast. We had the best time. This was truly a trip of a life-time. Our first stop was St. John’s, the provincial capital. We flew to St. John’s via Porter Airlines, a small airline operated out of the Toronto city airport. This was my first time flying Porter, and it has changed the way I look at travel. It was so…humane. Instead of being jammed into a stale gate, struggling to find a seat, Porter offers something akin to a hotel lobby – large leather chairs, soft lighting, and free (!) snacks and beverages. During the flight, you’re presented with a basket of salted almonds and Terra vegetable chips to pick how ever many snacks you’d like. You can also order any drink (alcoholic or non-alcoholic), to enjoy while in the air. The best part? Porter was cheaper than any of the competing airlines flying out of Toronto Pearson.

When we arrived in Newfoundland we picked up our rental car for the vacation, a brand new Ford Escape, and headed to our hotel, the Murray Premises. After checking into our cozy cabin-like hotel room, we walked over to The Gypsy Tea Room for dinner. Chris had what can only be described as the tastiest duck confit ever created. He loved it so much he got goosebumps. Unfortunately, my meal was less than impressive – a bland cod and quinoa dish that was over-priced even by Toronto standards. The flourless chocolate torte almost made up for my dismal main dish, though.

Our hotel, the Murray Premises

The next day we were determined to soak in as much of St. John’s as possible by exploring the city on foot, with no clear plan in mind. We wanted to just meander, and see where that took us.

Chris started the day with a pint of Quidi Vidi beer and fish n’ chips (hey, we’re on vacation!) at Nautical Nellies. With our bellies full we traipsed through the streets of St. John’s, past numerous pubs and through pedestrian alleyways. I loved all the colourful clapboard houses, often called “jellybean houses".

We ended up near the harbourfront, at Waterfront Park, where we bumped into these two little guys: a Newfoundland dog and a Labrador dog.

Underneath the cenotaph on National War Memorial Hill we drank strong coffees from a nearby hipster coffee shop. The cenotaph was erected to pay homage to the 700+ men Newfoundland soldiers who lost their lives within five minutes during the Battle of the Somme. It was beautiful and moving.

We eventually found our way back down at the water, near the large industrial section of the harbour, where supply ships fill up and head out to the oil rigs. Back at the hotel we cooled off in the courtyard, where I sipped a delicious pina colada, as we planned our next adventure of the day: Signal Hill.

St. John’s is located in a sheltered harbour, with big rocky cliffs surrounding it. Just a 10 minute drive from the downtown core is Signal Hill, where the first wireless transatlantic communication was heard by Guglielmo Marconi. Chris and I drove up to Deadman’s Pond and Gibbett Hill for some panoramic views of the city, before continuing up to Signal Hill. After listening to a simulation of the first transatlantic communication (just some Morse code), we decided to hike down the trail that stems from the base of the tower.

We hiked down the rocky cliffs, past fields of wildflowers hanging the hillside, and through wild blueberry patches. We picked fresh raspberries and blueberries as we walked along, and ended up filling a water bottle with some berries. The trail was absolutely breathtaking, and we immediately felt envious of all those in St. John’s who use these trails as a work-out spot.

After taking entirely too many photos, we climbed back up (feel the burn!) to the top of Signal Hill, and up to the “Ladies Lookout” to watch the sunset. As we sat atop the hill, looking out on St. John’s harbour and the setting sun, with the sound of the ocean in the background, everything began to click into perspective.

We finished off the night at Christian’s on George Street (the famous Newfoundland street chock-full of pubs), getting “screeched-in” (a fun Newfoundland ceremony that makes you an official “Newfoundlander”). We had to eat some bologna (“Newfie steak”), kiss a cod, take a shot of Newfoundland screech, and recite some Newfoundland slang sayings. We met great people from all over Canada and had the best night. We love you already, St. John’s!

The Mountain Village of Monchique, Portugal

2013-01-04T07:41:00.000-05:00

During our time in Portugal, we drove north from Odiaxere to the mountain village of Monchique. Monchique is famous for its spas, honey, and firewater (aka moonshine). After parking our rental car we meandered down to the town square. We enjoyed an espresso and cappuccino in the blazing hot sun, while watching a sculptural water feature that looked like a water mill. Then it was time for some shopping! I picked up this rustic leather satchel, and we had a great time looking at all the gorgeous cork and leather items for sale.

The store below sold honey and firewater created by the families of Monchique. Behind every type of firewater was a picture of the gentleman who made it. All the products were certified and regulated by a special agency, and packed a punch – 75% alcohol! Yiiikes.

Chris and I saw the beautiful old church perched atop a mountain, and decided to take a walk up to it and see if we could get a tour of the inside. We made our way up the cobbled empty streets, some of which had built-in staircases…

We passed an antenna made from a soccer ball ^^^

When we reached the top of the hill, a few middle-aged men were lounging around outside, eyeing us suspiciously. One of the men motioned for us to follow him – I was a bit hesitant, and didn’t really want to follow a stranger into an abandoned church that had a spattering of graffiti on it…but Chris convinced me to follow along. Inside, the man and his family (with many young children), were living as squatters. They slept in a loft-type area above the courtyard, which was filled with vegetable gardens and chicken coops. The man generously allowed us to tour the abandoned church that was beautifully derelict.

When we finished exploring the church, the man led us back out through his home. In a small corner was a little store. We bought a few lemons, clementines, and piri piri peppers that were hanging on the wall. The man was happy to have sold some produce, and we were happy to have met him and been invited into his unique home. This was definitely a highlight of the trip. We ate our tiny clementines in a cork grove just outside the church, before making our way back down to the town.

We had a bit of a difficult time finding a place to eat lunch. We didn’t want to eat at a tourist spot, which seemed to be abundant in the main square. When we’d go to a non-tourist spot, they would refuse to serve us or even come to our table to take our order. It definitely felt hostile at times. Finally we found a family-run restaurant, where we enjoyed olives, cod, french fries, and pork. Of course, we had chocolate mousse for dessert – which is so typical in many of the Portuguese restaurants! Yum.

Sagres Sunset

2013-01-03T13:30:00.001-05:00

On our spontaneous trip to the “end of the world”, Sagres, we caught the sunset. It had been raining on and off during our afternoon around the fort, and a final bout of rain cleared out all the other people around us. When the rain finished, it was time to watch the sunset, alone, overlooking the ocean for as far as the eye could see. It was one of those surreal moments where everything just came together, and we got to see the beautiful colours change by the moment across the sky.

Lagos Marina

2012-11-23T22:09:00.000-05:00

Lagos marina looked so peaceful when we drove by, that we had to stop and get out to explore. We walked down to the beach and got our toes sandy. It was a bit chilly, but we were the only ones for miles. Some more upscale seafood restaurants were nestled in the dunes, which we eventually visited a few nights later. Chris even tried the sea bream, and he’s definitely not a seafood lover. But when in ~~Rome~~ Lagos!

Have a great weekend!

Sagres, Portugal

2012-11-22T14:14:00.000-05:00

Sagres is a city in the South of Portugal, on the Westernmost tip. The old navigators and explorers, like Henry the Navigator, used to call Sagres and the nearby Cape St. Vincent the “end of the world”. After our unsuccessful hiking trip, we decided to hop in the car and head West. When we came across Henry the Navigator’s old navigation school, we had to go inside. The navigation school and surrounding fort were enormous. We spent the rest of the day walking around, exploring the different buildings, and marvelling at the beautiful cliffs and expansive ocean. No wonder they called Sagres Point “the end of the world”.

The picture below is of Cape St. Vincent, the Westernmost tip of Portugal. I thought it was beautiful how the sun managed to peek through on a very cloudy day to illuminate the cliffs in gold.

While the weather was less-than-ideal for a day of sight-seeing, I thought it perfectly suited a trip to Sagres Point: cloudy, moody, dark, with the sun peeking through at times creating the most wonderful colours and vistas I have ever seen. It was dark one moment, and then sparkling gold the next. We saw rainbows, got caught in downpours, and watched as the clouds shifted by the minute. Just wait til I show you the sunset…

An Unsuccessful Hike

2012-11-22T09:54:00.000-05:00

At the Quinta we stayed at in Portugal, there were numerous little books regarding what to see and things to do while in the Algarve. One of the books was called “Let’s Walk”, and provided nice little half-day walks/hikes around Portugal. It was written in the late 90s, and provided colourful descriptions of land-marks and things to see. After reading the book one evening over a glass of wine, we chose “A bygone era” and planned to embark early the next day. The hike was supposed to take us through small rustic farming villages. Interestingly, the only land-marks in the book included “derelict” and “semi-derelict” farmhouses. How were we to know which house was derelict and which one was only semi-derelict?! That was our first clue that this may be a difficult task. We parked the car at the designated stopping area, a small gravel patch next to a highway. We set-off down the highway, careful to walk on the nearly non-existent shoulder while Portugese cars whizzed by without moving over. Yikes. After a ten minute walk down the highway, we reached a smattering of white-washed homes. According to our trusty guide-book, there should only have been a semi-derelict farmhouse there. Uh-oh. I guess things had changed since the 90s. Now there were about seven brand-new white homes. We took our chances and cut-across an empty farmer’s field of clay-ish soil to a small creek-bed. After jumping down the embankment, into the very shallow, nearly dried-up creek, we began searching for the trail that would lead us into the “bygone era”.

No such luck. The trail that was once there was now entirely shrouded with cacti and thistles, making it nearly impossible to get through. Chris tried, and his clothes are now ripped to prove it! We searched and searched for some semblance of a trail, and after about 30 minutes, decided to cut our losses and head back to the car. If the “start” of the hike was this challenging, there was no way that this guidebook was going to take us successfully through a 2 hour hike. On our way back to the car, we marvelled at the peaceful landscape. Back towards the car, we found a little cork grove. We had no idea that Portugal was a main exporter of cork – you can buy anything made of cork in Portugal…base-ball hats, purses, loafers, postcards…the list goes on and on. It looks like the cork is just sheered off the sides of trees, about half-way up their trunks. While the hike proved unsuccessful, it was an adventure that we experienced together, and served an important lesson: don’t rely on old guidebooks!

Grotto Grotto

2012-11-21T08:35:00.000-05:00

In Lagos, we happened upon a small boat down by the marina. A man beckoned us toward him, and offered to take us on a boat-tour through some of Lagos’ most beautiful grottoes. For only 12,50 each, we had to do it. I’m so glad we did – it quickly became one of my favourite things we did on our Portugese adventure. While our guide spoke little English, he did point out various names of sea-stacks as we puttered past.

In the picture below, the sea-stack was called the “wedding cake”.

In the picture above, the sea-stack was called the “battleship” or “submarine”. Definitely looks like it, eh?

The colour of the water inside the grottoes was shockingly blue, and the golden cliffs glimmered at the time we went for the tour – around 5:00pm. It was gorgeous, and I’m so glad we did it. I love being out on the water any chance I get, and this was no exception. The cliffs and sea-stacks of Lagos were some of the most beautiful vistas I’ve ever seen on my travels.

Mornings at the Quinta

2012-11-19T08:02:00.000-05:00

For the majority of our trip, we rented a beautiful farmhouse nestled in the rolling hills in the South of Portugal, in a little town called Odiaxere (O-de-ah-sher). I’ll post more on the farmhouse (quinta) later, but for now, I’d like to share what our mornings were like. On the back terrace, smelling the clean air, listening to the cow-bells ringing across the hills. Sometimes we’d hear a rooster crow, but mostly, it was just cow-bells. We’d make dark roast coffee, chop up some fresh pineapple, and scramble up some eggs, bacon, and onion. We’d read in the hammock. Snuggle in blankets. It was perfection.

Lovely Lagos

2012-11-17T22:23:00.001-05:00

Odiaxere, the little town where our farmhouse was located, was just a ten minute drive into Lagos. We ventured into Lagos to spend the day exploring on a particularly sunny, hot morning. Being low-season, there were hardly any tourists around at all, which felt kind of amazing. We were able to see how people in Lagos live when the crowds of European tourists head back home. I should add, however, that there were quite a few touristy things about Lagos, like gift-shops, English signs, and menus printed in at least 10 different languages. That suited us just fine, since it seemed like we were the only tourists around. We drank some fresh pineapple smoothies from a little bar, bought cured fish and sardines in vintage packaging from a cute boutique, and admired the white-washed buildings.

We took a boat-ride through the famous Portugese grottoes, and then retired to a cliff-top cafe terrace for multiple espressos and cappuccinos to enjoy by sun-set.

Discovering a Castle: Santiago do Cacem

2012-11-17T21:48:00.001-05:00

After a whirlwind visit to Lisbon, we headed back to the airport to pick up our rental car. We vowed to come back to Lisbon one day and give it the amount of time that such a vibrant, historic city deserves. When we booked our rental car online, the total came out to roughly $50. Not bad! However, after going through the insurance forms, GPS rental, and all the little add-ons required, the total ended up being over $300 at the wicket. We left feeling more than a little shell-shocked at the price. Darn those tricky rental car companies.

Before going to Portugal, we had heard that: a) renting a car was an absolute must, b) Portugese drivers are much more aggressive than those in Canada, and c) that car break-ins happen in the blink of an eye. Needless to say, we approached the prospect of renting a car with a hefty dose of caution. Chris is an excellent driver, and navigated the wonderfully maintained highways of Portugal with ease. Even living in the Netherlands, I always thought that European drivers were better drivers than those in North America. Portugal was the same experience: while some cars went at crazy-high speeds (160km/h), and passed other cars on winding mountain roads with blind curves (cray), most of the drivers were fine. We noticed that our rental car had pretty weak lights though, so putting on our high-beams was essential in the evenings, and the Portugese drivers were quick to remind us to turn them off!

Initially we had planned to take the scenic, coastal route from Lisbon to Lagos. Armed with a horrible map, we decided to just go down the highway. While on the highway, we saw signs for a castle in the town of Santiago do Cacem. “Let’s turn off here and go check it out!” I suggested. Chris was game. We followed the signs into the village, but then couldn’t seem to find the castle. Then we looked up. There it was. We followed the winding roads up to the hill-top, at the highest peak of the village. Parking beneath orange and lime trees (!!!) we got out to explore.

We spent a while walking along the castle walls, having the entire place to ourselves. Chris enjoyed telling me about how the archers and guards used the small holes in the walls to peek through and shoot at any intruders coming up the hill. The castle was built around 1217 in a typical Islamic rectangular style. It is now a National Monument. A woman from the nearby church allowed us to come inside, however, and we spent some time marvelling at the beautiful architecture and signing the guest-book with visitors from around the world. Then it was time to head back onto the road – sometimes random little pit-stops like this are the best though, aren’t they?

Lagos at Dusk

2012-11-14T14:46:00.000-05:00

At the end of our day in Lagos, we watched the sun fall down over the cliffs. It was beautiful. We did a little walk along the beaches, separated by jutting cliffs, connected by blasted-out tunnels. Then we found our way up to the cliff-tops to explore and take in the views. I fell in love with Portugal’s rustic, rugged, stunning beauty that evening. So peaceful. A few people were out admiring the views as well. We collected pink and purple sea shells, admired the cobalt blue water juxtaposed against the red and gold rocky cliffs, and were on the lookout for the spiky cacti standing guard along the dirt paths.

A Day in Lisbon

2012-11-11T08:10:00.001-05:00

A few weeks ago, in a surge of spontaneity, my boyfriend and I decided to book a flight somewhere and go on an adventure. Going to the supermarket is an adventure with this man, so I knew a vacation with him would be something I’d never forget. I’m not sure how we ended up settling on Portugal, but we did, and we booked it on the spot. We took the red-eye from Toronto to Lisbon, via the Azores, on Sata International Airlines. Roughly nine hours later we were in Lisbon, dazed and excited to explore. Prior to leaving for our holiday, we had heard numerous stories about tourists getting ripped off, mugged, or having items stolen from their cars. Our only experience with any of the above (thankfully), was when our taxi-driver charged us double the rate from the airport to our rental apartment, and charged an extra fee for “luggage”. At that point, we were too tired and anxious to drop our bags and explore to care.

We stayed at the Lisbon Serviced Apartments in Bairro Alto, which we found through hours of scouring Trip Advisor. There was no concierge on-site, but rather a small phone outside that was answered 24/7. The apartment was clean, decorated with Scandinavian elements (which obviously, I loved), and in the middle of the vibrant and youthful Bairro Alto neighbourhood. Instead of napping right away, we pushed through our grogginess and set off to explore Lisbon with no plan in mind and just a crumpled vague map in hand.

One of the first things I noticed were the beautiful tiled buildings. Entire city blocks were covered with gorgeous elaborate tiles and wrought-iron balconies. The colours were gorgeous. The streets, made of stone tiles, glimmered in the sun-light from centuries of foot-steps smoothing them down. We popped into a small restaurant in Bairro Alto for lunch, and inadvertently tried two very traditional Portuguese dishes. I had the Bacalhau à Brás, a dish that originated in Bairro Alto. It’s a codfish dish made of shreds of salted cod, onions, and matchstick fried potatoes with scrambled eggs. I had no idea what I was ordering when I pointed randomly to the dish on the menu, but was pleasantly surprised with the casserole-type dish. Chris had the Cataplana – another traditional dish made of pork and clams. We quickly realized that when a restaurant brings you bread, butter, cheese, and olives, you have to pay for it, and are totally free to wave it away if you don’t want it.

With full bellies we set off to explore the city. In November, roasted chestnut stands line the streets of Lisbon, giving off a wonderful smelling wood-smoke. Of course we had to try some for 2 euros! They weren’t our favourite snack though, but were interesting enough to keep us reaching into the little paper cone.

We did some shopping on the main shopping street in Lisbon, listened to some violin players with dreadlocks, and sampled some traditional cherry liqueur, Ginjinha, out of chocolate shot glasses. We soaked up some sun in the main square by the harbour, watching as the trams rattled past. Afterward we watched the sunset over the city while listening to some street musicians, before finding our way back to the apartment (through not-so-safe neighbourhoods, I may add). Of course we stopped at a grocery store to pick up some wine (I could not believe that wine cost less than 2 euros!), and had a great night tapas-hopping throughout Bairro Alto, making friends with a nurse and a pilot from Atlanta, and eating way too much cheese. A perfect night, indeed.

Happy Weekend!

2012-05-18T13:23:00.000-04:00

Enjoy your (long) weekend! I’ll be spending time outdoors with family, bike-riding along canals, and trying out some new recipes from this book. Have a good one!

photo from Johnson Canyon on our trip out West

Wonderful Whistler

2012-05-17T13:11:00.000-04:00

While a quicker route to Vancouver would have been to cut straight through the mountains, stopping in the Okanagan Valley for the evening, we decided to drive up to Whistler instead. Site of the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics, Whistler hosted many of the skiing and snowboarding events, and is often called one of the world’s best ski resorts. We stayed at the Pan Pacific hotel, right in the hear of Whistler village, and had dinner at Ric’s Grill. I tried the blue rare ahi tuna and was pleasantly surprised by the spicy wasabi and ginger rub!

The next day was spent sipping cappuccinos at the base of the hill, watching skiers and snowboarders take the lift up the mountain. I was amazed and impressed by the tiny skiers, some as young as 2 years old, who would zip down the hill with no fear and impeccable technique! Whistler is an interesting blend of people – wealthier families with ski chalets who drive up from Vancouver to hit the slopes, mixed with young twenty-somethings from the UK, Australia, and New Zealand who work in the resorts and snowboard throughout the season. Whistler Village has great little shops, world-class restaurants, and beautiful accommodations. I can just imagine how bustling and vibrant the village must have been during the Olympics!

An Unexpected Landscape

2012-05-17T09:30:00.000-04:00

When I planned my trip out West, I naturally expected to see snow-capped mountains and tall evergreen forests. What I didn’t expect to see were rolling hills dotted with desert-like shrubbery, tiny cacti, and tumbleweeds. Just before entering Lillooet, British Columbia, driving along the Caribou Goldrush Trail, we were smack-dab in the middle of cowboy country. It felt like being in Arizona or New Mexico! I had no idea that such a unique landscape would be sandwiched between the snowy Rockies of Banff and Whistler. What this trip made me realize is how vast, diverse, and unique each area of Canada is. From the lobster harbours of the Eastern Canada, to the desert-like landscape of Eastern British Columbia, and the snowy bits in between, our country’s landscape is as unique as the people that inhabit it. Driving along this stretch of highway, inhabited largely by First Nations people, was especially interesting for me since I studied Aboriginal law last year. To read of land claims in our property class, and then drive through those very areas, was eye-opening and put everything into perspective. Canada is So. Beautiful. I’m clearly a proud Canadian, eh?