Frenchman’s Cove, NL – Our 24-hour trip to Europe was like stepping into an alter-nate universe and back out again! It’s good to be back in Canada again, and in our little home on wheels. I’m going to squeeze two days into one blog post to save you some reading time.
Yesterday the idea of traveling to France for a day did not
appeal all that much, simply because we awoke to pour-ing rain and wind that
kept on all morning. Our ferry ride wasn’t until 2:45 in the afternoon, but it
sure didn’t look promising even by lunchtime.
On the way to the town of Fortune, where the ferry was, we
stopped in Grand Bank to see the Seamen’s Museum. Housed in a building that
looked like several triangular sails in a row, the collection of nautical
artifacts was very interesting to look at. The instruments and boat equip-ment were
set out on the floor within roped off sections, so you could have a close look.
Similarly, upstairs we saw land-based items such as sleighs, printing presses
and other equipment from bygone days.
The rain continued as we drove to Fortune, got our tickets
and settled the car in the compound where it would stay till our return today. Our
ferry seats were indoors, and the crossing was so rough that boat personnel
were scurrying about with barf bags and paper towels for green-looking
passengers. It felt like we were riding on a mechanical bucking bronco, but we
were OK thanks to Gravol! Today, Val overheard a woman who goes to St Pierre
frequently say it was the roughest crossing she’d ever been on.
To our relief, when we disembarked on the island an hour
later, the skies had cleared. Our hotel was a short walk from the pier, so we
got settled there before going for a short stroll. It was strange to see the
French tricolour flag flapping on poles here and there, and all kinds of
European cars on the streets.
The town looked rather scruffy, with public gardens gone to
weed and buildings with peeling paint everywhere. The streets, sloping uphill
from the wharf, were narrow, with brightly-coloured shops and homes tightly
packed on either side.
We ate our dinner at the hotel’s
restaurant – very tasty, but expensive. Our server, Aurélien, had just come
over from France a month earlier, hoping to earn enough money to buy a larger
sailboat back in Normandy. He hadn’t seen anything beyond the island of St
Pierre yet, let alone had a look at Newfoundland.
He was back on the job this
morning when we ate our “Frenchie” breakfast (cornflakes, baguette, croissant,
orange juice and yogurt). We were planning to take a bus tour, scheduled for 11
o’clock, so we stopped by the tourist information office and got a map for a
bit of a walking tour while we waited. We saw a Basque playing field with a
high wall where they play “pelote”, involving bats, a ball and the wall – it will
be a busy place next month when the Basque festival takes place.
We also had a look inside the
large cathe-dral, and then headed back for the bus. It was parked near the
square, so we went over to climb aboard, but the driver told us it was fully
booked by a tour group and we’d have to wait till 1:15 for the next tour! Back
to the tourist office we went, and they kindly called Le Caillou Blanc tour
company to come and pick us up instead. So we got a personalized tour in a
small van with Maryvonne, a very friendly woman whose “Anglophone” tour was 80
per cent French and 20 per cent heavily accented English, but very informative
nonetheless.
It was great to go through the
narrow streets with Maryvonne at the wheel, explaining everything we were
seeing, and then to go around to the other side of the island to see where the
fishermen used to sail off in their dories, where horses graze on grassy fields,
and where more affluent citizens live in gracious homes. We could also see the
islands of Langlade and Miquelon across the way. These are joined by a narrow
isthmus which was formed in part by the accumulation of some 600 shipwrecks
over the years!
We also saw the new airport,
where 737 aircrafts can now land – though rare-ly – and the new hos-pital, built
on the old airport location. Maryvonne drove us back into town in time for us
to have lunch at Joséphine’s tea house, where we enjoyed quiche Lorraine, salad
and tea, for 42 Euros, or about $60! Our neighbour at the next table was a
young French woman named Aurore, who is an engineer in town for a week to check
on the construction of the town’s water treatment plant.
In no time, it was time to board
the ferry for the return journey, and this crossing was much calmer, thank
goodness. We’re glad we went, but home is awful nice too.
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