Discovering New Old Places to Love in Newfoundland

I’m a well-worn traveller. I’ve been a lot of places and done a lot of things. I’ve practically perfected packing for a trip of any length or distance and I’ve become a master planner in the process. But every now and then, I find myself in a place that not only changes my perspective on people or culture, but it changes how I see myself.

I just returned from a six-day road trip across Newfoundland, driving from the west coast to the east coast and back again, clocking 3000 km on my SUV. I didn’t see any moose. But I was once again reminded that the best stories don’t come from the places you go or the things you do, but from the people you talk to. And boy, can Newfoundlanders talk. Which turns out to be a delightful thing since I happen to ask a lot of questions.

Are You From Newfoundland?

I’ll start by saying that I was tickled pink when I was mistaken for someone “in from Corner Brook” by a tour guide in St. John’s. He insisted I must be from Corner Brook, which made my heart happy. I had just so happened to have arrived from Corner Brook to St. John’s the night before, and had discovered that Corner Brook has a charm much like my favourite place in Canada: Canmore, Alberta. The hotel I stayed at in Corner Brook left more than something to be desired, but the town itself was freaking adorable.

As a born-and-raised Cape Bretoner, it always warms my heart when people recognize my accent and ask where I’m from. I’ve been assumed to be from Ireland, Scotland and “the east coast” on several occasions, but never Newfoundland. So to be smack-dab in the middle of their wonderfully thick eastern accents and be assumed to be one of them was so fun.

Whenever the topic of my accent comes up, I’m reminded of my university days when an English professor of mine told me that nobody would ever take me seriously if I didn’t get my accent under control. Can you fucking imagine? Anyway, it turned out that I wasn’t ever able to kick it and even my most serious telephone voice doesn’t hide the quick-twang-slur of my voice. A part of my younger self feels so validated when people comment positively on the way I talk. I happen to like it a lot and so do a lot of other people. Take that, English Prof. Miserable bastard.

Newfoundland Sparked an Untapped Interest in History

But what I really want to share about my week in Newfoundland was how much there was to learn. I won’t pretend to be any kind of history buff or even a history-adjacent buff. As much as I like to learn, history hasn’t really been the thing to pique my interest. But something shifted during my time in Newfoundland and I found myself wanting to know more about a province that is right next to my own, that I’ve been to several times before, but never really knew.

In 2022, I spent six weeks driving across Canada and back on a solo camping trip that took me some 16,000 km all over this beautiful country. I never made it to PEI or Newfoundland on that trip, but I hit every other province between Nova Scotia and British Columbia, spending various amounts of time in each town or city as I arrived there. I have thought of that trip fondly since I returned and attribute many major (and minor) changes I’ve made in my life to the fact that I took that trip. But you know what I forgot to do on that trip? Learn things about the places I was visiting.

Let Me Tell You All The Things About Newfoundland

While chatting with a friend about my time in Newfoundland, I found myself apologizing for droning on and on about everything I had learned about the province. Things I wouldn’t consider “fun facts” but certainly felt fun to me. Like the fact that there have never been any dinosaur remains found in Newfoundland. This blew my mind. How is that even possible?

Turns out, the land there wasn’t conducive to fossilization and so if there were dinosaurs, there’s no evidence of them. Our tour guide said the land is too old. Yes, I’m a grown woman who asked about dinosaurs. I also asked about economic development initiatives related to the tuna industry, so there. I assumed there would be a dinosaur museum somewhere…but no. No dinosaurs.

My friend was equally invested in what I had to say and we talked for several hours (I’m not kidding) about Newfoundland. She was so inspired by what I had to share she wanted to work it into a trip she’s taking out east next summer. I don’t blame her. I’d certainly go again.

Paying Attention This Time Around

I can’t exactly say why I was suddenly interested in a place I was visiting. I’ve been a lot of places. And I’m ashamed to admit that while visiting some of the most spectacular sites in the world, I opted out or decided not to participate. I was young and bored and thought old buildings and historic sites were blah.

For instance, when I was 12 years old, my mother took my sister and I on a coach tour of England and Scotland. How lucky am I to have had that experience? Sure, I’m lucky to have gone, but don’t ask me anything about it because at 12 years old, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about history. Instead, I stayed on the bus at Stonehenge when our coach arrived and listened to a tape on my Sony Walkman instead. Guess I thought I was too cool for school. Literally.

Turns out, that was one of the last years you could actually go right up to the monument and I squandered the chance because I was bored. I’d love to blame that kind of audacity on my youth, but I did it again when I was in Italy in 2014 with my mom and sister. We arrived at the Roman Colosseum and all I could think was, “where’s the floor? This doesn’t look like the movies.” Obviously, it didn’t look like the movies. I was bored again. What a shame.

Being Mindful of What’s in Front of Me

Since then, I’ve tried to make a concerted effort to enjoy my travels, which depending on when, where and how I’m travelling, looks different all the time. But this trip to Newfoundland really struck a chord with me because I realized that I didn’t just want to clock miles like I had when I drove across the country. I didn’t just want to “get away” for a week to eat at the same old restaurants, but just in different places.

And it reminded me that how fast and how far you go isn’t the goal. The goal is sometimes, “make good time”, sure. But this trip was different. From the moment I got off the ferry in Port aux Basques, I started noticing something I’d never noticed before.

What in the French Names is Happening in Newfoundland?

I noticed that many of the names in Newfoundland are French. And I don’t mean French-inspired. I mean straight-up-French. I noticed French names on National Park signs, road signs, town names, people’s names. And it suddenly occurred to me that there was a boat-load (no pun intended) of French influence in Newfoundland. I had. No. Freaking. Idea.

From coast to coast, there was French everywhere I looked. It’s not a bilingual province, not by a long stretch, but there is a lot of French decent and settlements, in addition to the vikings and English, of course. I’m no linguist, but I had a sudden interest in how the French influence might have something to do with the thick maritime accent Newfoundlanders are famous for. I didn’t need the question to be answered, but I did love thinking about it.

Do and Learn

I’ve spent hundreds of hours in parks and on trials across Canada hiking and exploring mountain ranges, lowlands, rivers, ocean scapes and anything else you can hike, walk or swim. But you know what I’ve done so little of that it almost pains me to say it? Read a freaking placard on a wall. Learn about why somewhere was called what it was called. Ask questions about the processes or preservation being used. So embarrassing.

During my six days in Newfoundland, I found myself trying to do internet searches (when I could get a good data signal or wifi signal) to learn more about the places I’d visited during the day. I’ve never done that before. I’ve done lots of research about a place before I arrived to know where to go and what to do, but I can’t think of a single time I’ve researched a place just to learn more about it. To know something about it, not just experience something about it.

Following the Hunches to Discovery

I’ve never felt compelled to know more about a place I’ve visited. I go, see, do. I take pictures. Maybe there’s a cup of coffee or a meal. I may or may not stay the night in a hotel, Airbnb or campground. But I don’t dig in to a place…with one exception: Canmore, Alberta.

On any given day in Canmore, I feel like a local. I know the barista at Starbucks by name. It’s Heather too, by the way. I know the best places to hike and explore and hang out. I know how to move around the town like I live there. It’s as if I don’t feel the need to “do” when I’m there. I can just “be”. It’s the closest to home I’ve ever felt while being on the road. Until I went to Newfoundland.

Maybe it was the people or the scenery, but I don’t think so. It was a feeling. I know the feeling because I get it as soon as I get out of my car and suck in the mountain air in Canmore. It feels like something else to me. It feels expansive. I always feel like there’s more to the story than what you see in front of you. And it turned out that Newfoundland had many, many stories to share with me.

That Fish is Worth How Much Money?

We landed in Petty Harbour, which was originally called Petite Harbour (hello, French!) and was later renamed by the British to Petty. I’m sure it wasn’t to be “petty” but who knows? It’s the home of Alan Doyle, original front-man of the popular band, Great Big Sea. But that wasn’t the exciting part of our visit to Petty Harbour. The exciting part was landing on the dock at the same time a small vessel was hauling a 700-pound tuna off the line and onto the dock. The fish was as big as the boat.

I was absolutely gob-smacked to see a tuna in real life. Well, it didn’t have so much life left in it by the time they’d removed the head and processed it for shipping. We were told that tuna in Newfoundland was only recently given the green flag for international sale to Japan and that while a 1000-pound tuna would be worth about $25,000 domestically, the same tuna would be worth $250,000 in a Japanese market. I’m sorry, what? I looked at the 700-pound tuna on the dock and did the math: thank you high school fractions. That tuna was worth about $175,000. Good Lord.

Excuse Me, Sir, I Have More Questions About Newfoundland

My tourist-adverse brain was suddenly very interested in all of the things a tourist could do from coast to coast and I found myself leaving the province asking more questions than when I got there. I had learned so much in such a short period of time, I could write a paper on the place. But what’s more, I discovered that when I look at history through my own lenses, interests and life experience, I am wildly invested in learning more.

Before, “history” felt forced on me, especially when I travelled. As soon as someone tells me I must see or do something while I’m in any given location, I smile and nod and plan to never do that thing. And this time, I was doing the things many tourists do: touring Gros Morne National Park, making the trip to Cape Spear, and taking selfies at Signal Hill, but it all felt a little different. I felt like I wasn’t just “doing” something to check off my bucket list. I felt like I was experiencing these places.

Where Else Have I Done This?

And those experiences had me rethinking my cross-country trip from a different perspective once again. What if I made the trip again? But without an agenda this time? What if I didn’t race to the next stop only to settle in and rest for another day of driving tomorrow? And what if, instead of “making good time” I sought things out with the expectation of “having a good time” and learning a few things along the way.

I’m a little shocked to have become such an avid traveller without realizing I was missing such an important part of the process. As someone who loves to learn, I’m also shocked I’ve been leaving these parts out of my travels in favour of racking up check-boxes.

What it All Really Means

I did a lot of things during my time in Newfoundland. I can honestly say, I’ve never come back from a place still thinking about it days later…except Canmore. But now I’ve got another place to add to the list of places that make my heart feel like it has a second home. And because I know more about it now, I feel like I could do that with a lot more places.

I feel like I’ve opened up a part of myself that was closed off to a part of life that I adore. It seems hard to believe that travelling could get any better because I can’t remember the last time I took a trip somewhere and came back regretting it. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement. I just wasn’t thinking about learning as an area of my life that needed improving while travelling.

Of course, none of this is really about hitting up the tourist highlights and reading signs about places we visit. It’s about the ways we dismiss or gloss over things that are right in front of us because we have already deemed them unimportant to us. We filter the world around us automatically. We make assumptions and judgment based on very little information.

And we assume we’re having a good time because we’re “doing all the things” and physically moving forward. But there’s more to life than checking boxes and moving forward. What I learned in Newfoundland and what I’m really talking about here is what we can learn about ourselves when we stand still. What happens when we get quiet, pay attention to what’s right in front of us and listen for the little nudges that tell us to look again?

What’s Next?

Maybe you’re already asking yourself these same questions as you come to the end of this post. Maybe you find yourself thinking about the last time you visited a place and left feeling like there must have been more to see and do. Or maybe you glossed over a place because it only had one review on Trip Advisor. Whatever the case may be, I encourage you to reconnect with those memories and remember what was going on in the background. What was happening in the periphery? What were you missing while you were busy looking at something else? And what did you learn?

If you’re looking to do some reflection on this and other things that may come up for you as you consider what your experiences are teaching you, feel free to join my 5-day journal challenge. It will help you organize your thoughts, get some clarity around life’s experiences and make new meaning that can serve you right now. Just because the experience is over doesn’t mean the learning has to stop. I’ve Googled Newfoundland several times since returning home two days again. Stay interested.