It's a cool Sunday morning. You've got out of the house for your usual morning walk - up past the highway and over to the strip mall where your current favourite coffee shop is. The coffee isn't so special but the walk is good exercise. When you pay for your drink you give the cashier enough for the next person too. Paying it forward. On the way home you look across the town and up at the sky. Those black clouds have edged closer. You can almost smell the rain.
Some people are calling you. Well, what have we got here? A couple on bicycles. With a lot of stuff on their bikes. They're saying hello. They want to know what? Where the nearest supermarket is? You give them your big smile. Well, you're almost there - and there's plenty of choice too. Where're you from? England, huh? And heading where? Mexico? Well, ain't that something.
You head homewards and think about those crazy folk riding bikes here in Newfoundland. You mention it to Laura your wife when you get in and then you wonder if they maybe needed a shower or a chance to wash. So you put your hat back on and get in the car and drive back to the strip mall.
The sky is black. We are loading the shopping into our panniers and one of the staff is having a cigarette in the 'smoking zone'. We get chatting and he seems to know the local hotels. "They'll gouge you" he almost spat. "It's high season." We'd seen a motel on the way into Grand Falls-Windsor and we decide to head back there when the man we'd asked for directions reappears. He's almost apologetic in explaining that he only thought afterwards whether we would like a shower. Now it's our turn to apologise while we thank him for the kind offer - but we really want a break off the bikes and we'd thought we'd take a room at a motel. He looks concerned. "Let me speak to the boss." He gets on his phone and then asks us if we'd like to come and stay with him and his wife. "My name's Mike - you can follow my car."
Well, how to make friends quickly. Laura and Mike are both musicians and play together in two local bands - one fun (community orchestra) and one serious (jazz group). Actually, the 'serious' one sounds like the most fun. Laura also does a Sunday gig on the organ at the Catholic cathedral in Windsor. Mike's hearing has been affected by a brain tumour he is being treated for - it means playing the trombone and directing the community orchestra has become difficult. Later they call their daughters (one near, one far) and tell them they've taken in two stray cyclists from England. "Awesome!" replies the nearer. "Can you trust 'em?" asks the further.
It's a rainy day but Laura, who grew up here, gves us a tour of her town while Mike drives. Grand Falls was built around a large paper mill set on the river. Only the mill workers were allowed to live in Grand Falls. All the people in service jobs for the town had to live on the other side of the tracks, in Windsor. There is still a feeling of a socio-economic divide, although the two towns have now merged into one. The mill closed fairly recently with the fall in newsprit demand and the entire mill has been demolished. It's but a memory. The town still has a pulse and many young workers have made their fortunes working in Canada's oilfields, returning here to build silly big houses.
Laura is involved at the local Arts Centre. Mike has retired from teaching at a school in the nearby Bishop's Falls. We visit the next morning to see some of the murals painted by an artist friend. It's a lovely sunny day and our hosts have offered to take us up to Twillingate - a place also recommended by Flavienne - up on a peninsula on the north coast. Once we get off the main highway it's clear to see that a lot of the life in Newfoundland is dotted around the coast in a series of fishing villages. Cod fishing was a big draw here until overfishing with supertrawlers decimated the fish stocks. The government's sudden fishing ban stunned the island communities in the early 1990's. Now crab and lobster fishing are the main fishing haul.
We spend a really lovely day out with our new friends. Twillingate is in a pretty location and there are a fair few tourists about. The local Masonic Lodge has an art exhibition. Opposite, the Orange Lodge looks a bit dusty and unloved. The buildings tell the tale of migration to these shores. The island also has an unofficial flag - a fetching pink white and green number with resemblance to the Irish flag. It's origins are from Catholic groups on the island, but it became the flag uniting locals opposed to joining the confederation of Canada. Newfoundland finally joined up in 1948.
"This has made my summer." Mike is visibly tickled by events. "It's made ours too", I tell him. They have never done anything like this before - just invited total strangers in off the street. We feel really lucky to have met Laura and Mike. We are quiet and reflective when we ride away the next day. These are special moments on our journey.
Some people are calling you. Well, what have we got here? A couple on bicycles. With a lot of stuff on their bikes. They're saying hello. They want to know what? Where the nearest supermarket is? You give them your big smile. Well, you're almost there - and there's plenty of choice too. Where're you from? England, huh? And heading where? Mexico? Well, ain't that something.
You head homewards and think about those crazy folk riding bikes here in Newfoundland. You mention it to Laura your wife when you get in and then you wonder if they maybe needed a shower or a chance to wash. So you put your hat back on and get in the car and drive back to the strip mall.
The sky is black. We are loading the shopping into our panniers and one of the staff is having a cigarette in the 'smoking zone'. We get chatting and he seems to know the local hotels. "They'll gouge you" he almost spat. "It's high season." We'd seen a motel on the way into Grand Falls-Windsor and we decide to head back there when the man we'd asked for directions reappears. He's almost apologetic in explaining that he only thought afterwards whether we would like a shower. Now it's our turn to apologise while we thank him for the kind offer - but we really want a break off the bikes and we'd thought we'd take a room at a motel. He looks concerned. "Let me speak to the boss." He gets on his phone and then asks us if we'd like to come and stay with him and his wife. "My name's Mike - you can follow my car."
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| two wonderful new friends Mike and Laura |
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| Laura on her fabulous porch |
Laura is involved at the local Arts Centre. Mike has retired from teaching at a school in the nearby Bishop's Falls. We visit the next morning to see some of the murals painted by an artist friend. It's a lovely sunny day and our hosts have offered to take us up to Twillingate - a place also recommended by Flavienne - up on a peninsula on the north coast. Once we get off the main highway it's clear to see that a lot of the life in Newfoundland is dotted around the coast in a series of fishing villages. Cod fishing was a big draw here until overfishing with supertrawlers decimated the fish stocks. The government's sudden fishing ban stunned the island communities in the early 1990's. Now crab and lobster fishing are the main fishing haul.
We spend a really lovely day out with our new friends. Twillingate is in a pretty location and there are a fair few tourists about. The local Masonic Lodge has an art exhibition. Opposite, the Orange Lodge looks a bit dusty and unloved. The buildings tell the tale of migration to these shores. The island also has an unofficial flag - a fetching pink white and green number with resemblance to the Irish flag. It's origins are from Catholic groups on the island, but it became the flag uniting locals opposed to joining the confederation of Canada. Newfoundland finally joined up in 1948.
"This has made my summer." Mike is visibly tickled by events. "It's made ours too", I tell him. They have never done anything like this before - just invited total strangers in off the street. We feel really lucky to have met Laura and Mike. We are quiet and reflective when we ride away the next day. These are special moments on our journey.
