Onto Bonavista and Twillingate
An Early Morning Start
I woke up very early the day I started my road trip to Twillingate, Newfoundland. I took a little detour through CBS (Conception Bay South for those of you are not familiar with the local lingo) instead of heading straight for the Trans Canada Highway. I stopped for a coffee and some breakfast at the Tim Horton's in Paradise and parked at Topsail Beach to eat it and enjoy the view.
To say signage is lacking in many areas of Newfoundland is a slight understatement. Getting turned around at least once on the trip was expected. I drove and drove on a highway that I thought was the TCH for miles before seeing a sign that confirmed that I was in fact on the right track.
The Unexpected Detour
I didn't plan on going to Bonavista but, at the last minute, I heard there was some icebergs in the area. I expected there to be icebergs in Twillingate as the town is known for its spectacular iceberg sightings. However, I heard nothing about sightings there so I took a detour to Bonavista to see what might be the only iceberg on my trip. At Clarenville, I left the TCH and followed the signs to Bonavista only to reach a closed road. Well, that was unexpected. I backtracked, got lost and had to stop for directions. The lady I spoke with made a face that told me I was not the first one to come upon this roadblock that day. Like I said, poor signage. She gave me an alternate route and I was on my way.
It took a little longer than expected to reach Bonavista. I drove for a little over an hour when the thought crossed my mind that I should turn around and head back because at this rate, I would be reaching Twillingate at nightfall. But I kept driving...and driving. I figured if I drove that far, I might as well keep going and hopefully there would be some icebergs so the extra side trip would be worth it even if I have to drive in moose country at night.
Finally, I made it to the lovely little town of Bonavista. I didn't have a lot of extra time so I drove straight toward the harbor and lighthouse in search of icebergs. I did fine one very small one. All icebergs are impressive but after witnessing some very impressive ones near St. John's over the years, this one didn't really do much for me. I took a short cut through a gravel road (I saw this gravel road, had no idea where it went, drove down it anyway out of curiosity and it ended up being a shortcut back to the main road), met some friendly horses along the way and stopped at a Robins Donuts to grab a coffee and inquire about icebergs in the area and to get directions to a place called Amherst Cove where there supposedly was an impressive iceberg attracting visitors.
Finally....Some Icebergs!
I only had to drive for about five minutes before passing the sight indicating I found Amherst Cove. Another few minutes later, the bay came into view and a quick scan revealed what looked like three icebergs. I found out later that it was actually one iceberg that first appeared in the bay with an arch going from one point to another but the arch had melted and because much of the berg is submerged under water, it looks like three separate ones. I admired that massive, ancient chunk of ice, took some pictures and went on my way. By this point, I was way off schedule. But it didn't matter because the iceberg made it all worth while.
I backtracked to the main highway and took the same way back to the TCH despite knowing that there was an alternate scenic route that I was heard was worth taking. My reason for going back the same way? It may not be what I would normally do when the opportunity is there to take another route, but the late hour, the pothole-ridden roads, the unpredictable weather and the fact that I had a room booked at a hostel in Twillingate all contributed to my decision to drive through the exact same scenery I had already seen only a couple of hours before.
On the Road Again
I don't usually speed (mostly because I'm too cheap to pay for a ticket) but even while doing ten over, everyone was blowing by me. I stepped it up just a little...well, more like 30 over the limit just to keep up with everyone and make up time. My logic was the person in front of me speeding would be pulled over first. I don't know if that's the way it works or not. I blew through Terra Nova National Park hoping all the way through that a moose wouldn't step out in front of me.
By the time I reached the turn off in Gander, the sun was starting to set. I wanted to keep driving so I would arrive before nightfall but I was too starved to drive anymore. I grabbed some take out at a truck stop and quickly ate it in the parking lot and was off again. I has asked someone how much longer to Twillingate and she responded with the usual "oh not that long". I lived in Newfoundland long enough to know what this meant; not that long usually means long by most standards. Islanders are used to traveling back and forth between Gander and Clarenville and Gander and Stephenville and St. John's to Corner Brook. Long drives by most mainlanders' standards. Just a routine drive for most Newfoundlanders.
The Long Road to Twillingate
I started out on the secondary highway 340 (also known as Road to the Isles) and drove...and drove...and drove. I drove until I reached the point where "oh not that long" was long past. I stopped at another service station and was told it would be another hour before I reached Twillingate. Lovely. I had already been on that highway almost an hour. It was like I entered some kind black hole or alternate dimension. It took everyone else "not that long" to get there. But me? It felt like I just kept driving and driving on this never-ending highway. I knew Twillingate was a coastal village but the ocean was nowhere in sight!
Checking in
Finally, I passed a sign welcoming me to the town of Twillingate and than drove for another twenty minutes until I actually reached what looked like the coastal town I had seen in pictures. I didn't have any trouble finding my home for the night, Hi-Tides Hostel. It was right on the main road. I parked and checked in so I could drop my belongings off and head out to take some pictures before darkness fell and those dark clouds that were moving in opened up.
Walking through the back door of the hostel felt like walking into an old friends home. Shoes of guests who had already arrived lined against the wall, soft lighting over a kitchen where two guests prepared a late evening snack. The sound of an acoustic guitar being played in a cozy living area where some young backpackers from across country were hosting an impromptu jam session. The room where I would be sleeping was dark and quiet with four bunks. After a brief introduction to the four ladies sharing the room with me, I unpacked some things and tossed them in a locker and headed out with my camera. It was a good thing I also brought my rain jacket because only seconds after I managed to capture a few lovely shots of the harbour, the sky opened up. I found myself trapped in a gazebo for about twenty minutes waiting for the worse of it to pass. It was nice though. A beautiful scene before me, the sounds of rain drops above me and not a soul around to bother me.
Despite sharing a room with 3 other people, I slept like a baby. The three other women in the room were quiet and I got to know them a bit better the next morning at breakfast. All were travelers passing through Newfoundland on cross-country journeys. I always take an interest in these people making these cross-country journeys. I've met a lot of them over the years. They always seem to start the journey in Newfoundland and I meet them onboard one of the ferries or while hiking the East Coast Trail. I envy those making this journey as it is one I've been wanting to make since I can remember. I know I will do it one day.
Exploring the Lovely Village of Twillingate
I awoke early that Sunday and realized it was Sunday. How did I realize it was Sunday? Everything was closed, including that lovely cafe up the street that I was wanting to visit. I drove around and found another quaint-looking cafe with a "CLOSED" sign on the door. Breakfast ended up being a muffin and cheese sticks from a local gas station. I headed towards St. John's but took my time going back. I noticed some photo-worthy scenes on the way to Twillingate but I was in such a hurry to get to the hostel that I didn't have time to stop.
By early afternoon, I was back on the noisy Trans Canada Highway. I didn't see any moose on the way back despite everyone telling me they are everywhere this year. For some strange reason, I was drawn to a sign pointing to a place called Arnold's Cove just outside Clarenville. I turned off onto the off-ramp and found myself in a picturesque little outport village. Sometimes it's worth it to take a random off ramp once and a while. This was one of those times.
Back in the City
I arrived in St. John's in the early evening and checked into the Abba Inn on Queens Rd. With everything in order for the evening, I drove around looking for something to eat until I happened upon an open Pizza Shop. I paid a little more than I normally would for a personal size pizza (17 dollars seems a bit much for a very small veggie pizza), but it was quite delicious. I ate it on top of Signal Hill overlooking that magnificent view of St. John's. I stayed there until that magnificent view went from a golden, sun-soaked downtown skyline to one drenched in darkness and street lights. Both equally magnificent in their own way.
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