I woke up excited to explore Newfoundland’s capitol. Having camped a mere 25 km away from the city, it wasn’t long until the highway guided me to the welcome sign I’d been longing to see, I’d arrived in Saint John’s.
The first thing to do was find a restaurant and get some food and coffee in me. Classic Caffe did the job well and returned me to the city with a full stomach, feeling content and caffeinated. I decided I’d do some random driving about, admiring the unique and colorful buildings that found themselves in abundance throughout the city. I loved it, everything felt so unique and different, other cities take note!
Knowing Winnie needed to stretch her legs, I drove to a nearby park that bordered the water. As I exited my vehicle and began the walk I noticed an area with a bunch of dogs running about, sure enough I’d just discovered a dog park and proceeded to head on in. Winnie immediately took to the canine crowd as she joyfully let her bundled up energy loose, running back and forth with excitement.
With a happy dog smiling up at me I returned to the car and set off towards Signal Hill, a national historic site. I’d soon arrived and found myself walking along the cliffs where old cannons lay overlooking the cove below. Blue skies had revealed themselves and the sun shone down upon the land of cliffs and salty water. Scattered about, wild blueberries grew in abundance and I took my time chowing down on the little treats as I explored the region.
My phone had died and I was unable to take more pictures so I returned to the car to charge it for a bit. Having sat there for 30 minutes relaxing, my phone was charged enough to return to the scene before me. I walked up to the highest point where I entered an old military fort and climbed to the highest point where I stood and admired the birds eye view. To think, the windows I was looking through were once the same viewpoint for soldiers as they watched vigilantly all day long for enemy ships.
There was still more to see so I returned to my car and ventured to Cape Spear, another national historic site. An active lighthouse greeted me from the distance and I followed its shining beacon until I’d arrived at my destination. As I exited my vehicle I was immediately greeted by a powerful wind and a spray of mist from the sea. I walked up a flight of stairs to view the old historic lighthouse that had both warned and guided countless ships to safely. I wondered what it would’ve been like to live there, high up on the cliff forever watchful over the sprawling sea.
I’d longed to stand at the most eastern point of Canada for ages and I finally fulfilled that desire. A walk along the tall cliffs took me to the place I’d waited so patiently to see. As I stood there I was overcome with joy, I’d achieved a life goal and my soul roared in adventurous elation.
I couldn’t return yet, I simply had to wander further out on the rocks and watch the waves crashing into the rocky shore. Over the obstacles I climbed until I found a perfect place to stand and gaze out upon the untamable sea. A storm was brewing and the waves grew in size, some must have been seven feet tall! As the rain picked up I didn’t move, I stood there getting soaked, a front row seat to the violent and powerful display of nature as the ferocious Atlantic sea assaulted the shore relentlessly. I must have stood there for hours until the growing darkness finally drew me back to my vehicle.
It was time to find a campground and I took to the roads once more. The rainfall had picked up its intensity, it fell with torrential force. At times I could hardly see out my window with my windshield wipers at their max speed. I worked through it and made it to a campground where the rain turned to a light sprinkle, a break in the torrent for me to set up my tent. I lucked out, managing to do so with minimal rain before crawling inside the shelter and giving into the exhaustion as I was reunited with my pillow once more.