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Ok it was time to get things rolling here. Many things to do little time to do it in. This was going to be a do over trip down the southern shore out to Cape Race. I was going to try to remake the fog images of last year.

It was also time when I remembered how familiar I am with certain quirks of the place. The external excuse was Mistaken Point – filled with fossil that Baleful the intern was drooling over – my reason was those places like Cripple Cove where ‘Bira last year added a bit more atmosphere than I had wanted.

I had told Baleful that one of the requirements for joining the navegacio was having to buy a mug to give to Patricia Coombs down in Portugal Cove South. I had promised that I would post her one but lethargy took over and I never got around to it. I reckoned that two – actually three – overachiever that the intern is - in person would be better than one by post.

The ground rules for the day – again from past experience – race down take our time coming back.

Due to the hiking mom would be guarding the fort back in Pouch Cove
-when will you be back?
-late afternoon
-lock the door when you leave.

It was pissing down rain. Baleful not in tune with Avalon weather was constantly wondering if we should turn back. Of course not with the shortness of time it was either to-day or never and who knows what is happening down Trepassey way.

Sped down – well as fast as one can on a road where hydroplaning is a given Stopping only once at the last possible place before the Cappahayden Barrens. Then once more at the Interpretive Centre.

The mauze lifts.

Walked into Patricia calling her name – she couldn’t recognise the voice until I was in the kitchen. Linda and Marcia were there, Marcia still a vegetarian – more like a carbohydrarian. We gave the three mugs to them and promised that we would be back for tea.

I found out that I need some sort of human mediation in a place for me to find it interesting. I sound churlish. I liked the fossils again intellectually I knew the importance of the sight and the age of what I was blissfully walking on, but I was more excited with about the two basketball hoop across from one another on the road out to the point. Mind you I didn’t mind sitting and making a few snaps but they were more like Aaron Siskind taking over my camera than anything I would really do. A couple of times I tried to make erratics stand in for deck chairs, or wood piles.

Same thing at Cape Race I photographed the mop hanging on one of the lines hold up the radio towers – tastefully with just a soupçonne of the formal – while some wonderful upper Canadian raced toward the buildings.

I also forget the fear of people below the 49th – doors lock before one leaves the machine. Even in places where one is more likely to run into a carjacking moose than a human.

A few stops along the way at all the cabins between Portugal Cove South and Cape Race. It promised to be a great day as I was getting hot and bothered about neatly tended to lawns surrounding a cabin with no electricity and an outhouse. Tried in vain to photograph a football laying on the lawn of one in which it looked like the family had just stepped out.

So I am bad at judging time – we left Pouch Cove at 10AM. It was now 6PM.
-we’ll only stop for a minute at Patricia’s.

She was on the steps smoking when we arrived
-where t’hell have you been we been waiting tea.

Blamed it on Baleful the intern and her drooling over every aspect of the province.
We went in and I abandoned her while I went out to photograph that same pair of basketball hoops facing each other across the street. Then a close line, then a wood pile, then a ship then…

When I re-entered Patricia’s place there was coffee and home made cinnamon buns three of which the intern had already had two.

They went crooked when I told them we had to get back because of my mother.
-Why didn’t you bring her? Next time you comes down bring her.

I am getting a lot of this it seems that people around here cannot believe that I stemmed from a human.

Marcia showed us her prize.
We started to leave.
Thirty minutes later we were getting our shoes on.
Another fifteen minutes we were standing by the machine when Marcia showed us her garden and gave me a green onion from it. Baleful got a handmade bracelet.
Thirty minutes later we were on our way in but not before telling us to watch out for moose.

In the what was the remaining light we raced back to Pouch Cove but not before stopping at the Dominion for stuff to eat – and a Globe.

At the door at 10:30 my mum was ready to dial 911 fearing something had happened.