Reverted to my standard method for outings. Up and out with the morning programme – this week listening to the happy talk of Kennedy broadcasting from the more boring studios in Prince Philip Drive and using the CBC as a gauge for time.
A drenching rain, I forgot to take my shoes off the back porch. The only good side to this I thought was that the smell of ocean and wetlands would finally be out of them. If my life here were more infinite, I would have waiting but I am in that late stage where I cannot postpone anything and Paul assured me that it would clear by the afternoon.
Loaded the machine with the group and again a film shield bag’s worth of film and headed to see France. I would be beyond the viaduct where Newfoundland begins and off the Avalon in one magnificent drive.
I was patient in my control of hyperactivity way, didn’t risk hydroplaning under the speed limit as the TCH is resemble cross country ski paths more than it does the superhighway it pretends to be. Play tag with the DRL Coach heading to the ferry, meaning a queue at the Irving Mainways every time I stopped.
Still pouring still listening to the morning programme, still promising a clearing and lo and behold when I turned off at Goobies the rain stopped the sun tried to come out but I wasn’t going to be demanding. I was a glad the rain stopped.
This was to be the trip representing roads that in essence linked the outports to the Trans Canada. While not really the same at the ones a bit further west where there is nothing between the two, it would have to do because of my mortal state here.
Fell in and out of old habits quickly. I had planned on racing down to Marystown, where I would take the longest route to Grand Bank. On the way back I would photograph all the places passed.
Yeah right, my memory is going and if I over think something the magic is gone so not soon after the Post Office in Swift Current – six lucky people will be getting a Swift Current – NL cancellation - where I photographed the postal worker and two people in front of the building that happened to be the postal worker’s mum and aunt. I was told that you cannot see France from Grand Banks – oh well. I walked about the town before heading onward and downward.
It is still hard to stop when driving along at 110km/h. In my case the time lag is a bit much as what I saw has to sink in then I have to deem it worthy and only then stop the machine. Needless to say there are a lot of U turns and thankfully few RCMP.
Decided on my photographing the land too many places to stop I would need a slower means of transport but I did want to photograph the collections of water in the wetlands as it seemed to be some sort of bog calligraphy – this was made even nicer on the return in the evening as the reflected sky contrasted with the now dark earth. The other reason for giving up on the land was not having a verge wide enough to pull off on. After years of this I have no problem simply stopping the machine but I do want a place to put it.
Stuck to things that I would photograph anyplace – well except the closed conveniences, the docked boats, the clothes lines, the sheds – I photographed a lot of roadside memorials trying not to become one myself.
Marystown was a relief as I needed some indication that I was actually moving toward my goal but at the same time I was glad to be rid of it. Typical big city on the rock – Wal-Mart when entering town – a Dominion or Sobey’s, McDonald’s and a Tim’s.
Bought an egg salad sandwich from Tim’s for a picnic later.
Marystown was too big really couldn’t focus and thus was glad to be out of it. did manage the ballpark Kinsman Memorial Park with a fake lighthouse overlooking centre field.
It seems that soccer football is more popular as everywhere had a well maintained football pitch.
What I did like about the area and this included the ride down was the confusion of water, was it sweat or salt, pond or ocean, it was hard not to make diversions along the way to these true outports but I had to press on and see France – besides to overcome my curiosity I went into tourist mode – seen one seen’em all.
Did make the decision to head to Burin which would mean a retracing of the route. There was no real reason for heading there – except that since the WGAS won’t send me to that other Burren – I can console myself.
Picnic lunch over the cove.
Glad that it did for this must have been what outport communities were like. One town a space then another. Foundations of older building now gone, except for Burin itself where the houses were getting posh, great utilitarian places.
Again comparing it to Pouch Cove these places were small but had more amenities, a couple of conveniences, a lounge, places the size of Pouch Cove – St Lawrence - actually had real shops, food, hardware etc.
The land was amazing, driving was like driving in as vast and as empty a place that I have been, the same landforms as the Barrens on the Avalon but not on the Tourist run. Felt like a Canadian Robbie Frank bombing from one poorly populated town to another.
Stopped to photograph the dam in Little St. Lawrence. It was here that I also noticed one of the downsides of outport living – bored kids. They were in the bus shelter hanging about I would see this in every town until Grand Banks.
I was also more aware of the tenuousness of the living here – or made more aware – due to Rex Murphy’s column in the Globe this past Saturday talking about the fisheries, how that defines the area and what happens when that it taken away.
All the large towns had a FPI plant in it and they were all closed. He was talking about the moratorium 15 years ago when 32 000 people lost their job from one day to the next. 32 000 in a population of barely 200 000. he uses Ontario as an example and says that it would be the same as 650 000 people out of work from one day to the next. I was seeing the tenuousness of that life still and it was brought home talking to the person who ran the ticketing agency for the ferry to St. Pierre et Miquelon. The plant wasn’t opening this year and they were placing their hopes on everything being resolved by the next.
St. Lawrence was too big again, felt a rush of panic as I wanted to slow down but also wanted to see what was beyond the bend.
Ironically I had no trouble slowing and stopping in smaller places, Lord’s Cove where I photographed the church yard with a series of transmitting towers behind it. Lamaline with the Sally Ann graveyard with a empty bottle of booze outside the gates – don’t know what church yards have shown up again. Photographed three in Burin, two were playful as there were kiddie swings and the like behind one, behind the others were hills or they were poking out in odd spots as in Fortune. The Seabreeze – 
ah the Seabreeze, and a weird over managed autodidactic sculpture garden. Liked the space. Liked the tenuousness of the structure liked respect and nonchalance given to the ocean. I could run away and live down here only heightening my people hating moments.Saw France before I realised it.
Pulling into Fortune I finally looked at the map to see where France would lie off the Shore and found that the best view was in Lamaline. I kept seeing this island off shore and noted the shape was familiar.
This happened again in Fortune Head when I was photographing the overly ambitious viewing platform – thought it was a helicopter pad.
Fortune itself was facing the wrong direction and Grand Bank would have been worse.
Asked at the Interpretive Centre and why yes you can see the islands from here. I had photographed them but now it was confirmed.
A walk around fortune to get back to a ball park – the best one of the day though again was in Burin nice mural where I do a pratfall while trying to photograph it. The home dugout was under a mountain feeling more at home than visitor chose that.
In Fortune more structure than formal but they were mixed. Photographed a lot of empty buildings found a lot for sale…
Thought that this would be the end of the day and I would race back but I was in wander mode and stopped more on the return trip than on the trip down. Glad that I did stop on the way down as I had forgot all the places that I wanted to photograph. Back it was more memorials, more conveniences, more signs leading to places that peeked my curiosity.
Funnily enough few woodpiles, I’d still be on the road, but they were beauts. Gave up anything that had a near equivalent on the Avalon.
A bag of salt and vinnies for the return trip, tea in Marystown – bottle Lipton’s chemical tea. Mountain Dew – which is caffeine free here at Goobies.
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