Day 57 – Arnold’s Cove, Newfoundland (Friday, July 3, 2015)
In the morning Keith, the host at the Lilac Inn, served me some yogurt, with granola and french toast as I had requested. He was unaware how to fancy-up french toast. I realized too late that by requesting it I had likely cheated myself out of something better.
He was somewhat sombre and appeared to be looking after the bed and breakfast on his own. His wife was mentioned but never seen and the quaint decor throughout the house left clear evidence of a female touch. As we talked he mentioned that his son, an elite British triathlete had recently passed away from a viral infection.
Before I left Keith suggest that I visit Trinity on my way to St. John’s. Trinity was 66 km off the main route and may be a destination for another time. When I mentioned that I was heading for Arnold’s Cove he suggested a few better places to visit. “They are constructing an oil platform in Sunnyside.” he said “It is a better place than Arnold’s Cove.” As before, places to stay are quite limited in Newfoundland at the distances that I wanted to travel so I decided to stick with Arnold’s Cove.
I had a strong head wind throughout the day and arrived at Arnold’s Cove later than I wanted in a cool drizzle. I stayed at a place called Arnold’s Cove Inn formally Tankers Inn. I believe the name was changed to sound more attractive to visitors. That and an attractive internet advertisement made it enticing. You’d think that along with the name change would come some effort to “raise the bar”.
I had supper in a dining area without any windows. There was only one other group at a table but I am sure they weren’t eating. They likely knew better. It turns out they were the hired comedy team debating whether they should continue the show in the tavern in the next room. Apparently it was Friday night and the regulars all arrived early and had gotten drunk. I could clearly hear them yelling and laughing.
The motel personnel were nervously pacing back and forth. They had already tried to quiet the group and were likely incurring the cost of the performers if they didn’t get things started.
I asked the waitress what she recommended to eat for supper. She was an honest girl likely on her fist summer job and, without any role models, was trying her best to do things right. She blurted out “Oh I never eat here. My mother always makes my lunch.” Now I was really nervous. I told her I should get her mother to make my supper too. The poor girl tried to retract and insisted, as all servers do, that “all the food is good here”.
In all this commotion, struggling with my own uncertainty, and against my better judgment I ordered a turkey dinner in the Newfoundland homemade style. I really may not have any better choices but I won’t be back to find out. I also ordered a local beer and was given a Canadian. Even I know there is pretty decent beer made in St John’s.
As it turned out the turkey looked and tasted ok but all the nutrition had been cooked out of the vegetables and, as hungry as I was I decided to leave the stuffing.
With all that said Ralph and I stayed the night in a nice clean and dry room. What else do you need really?
