NEWFOUNDLAND: A Love Letter
Fortune Bay, South Coast

After the Trip

fjord

Since I'd come so far, I wanted to spend a day or two looking around the area. Harbour Breton was the closest place with a motel, and it was at the very end of Rt 360, the road that runs through the interior, so I went there.



town

Here's the view of the harbor, from the motel.  The ocean is to the right and behind me. That island in the middle has a trail that goes to the top, Gun Hill. That's where I took the first photo on this page.


trail

This is 2/3 of the way up the hill, looking back down at the trail. I think it's the Newfoundland version of a stress test. No time wasted on switchbacks.


ghview

Here's a view from the top. Pretty much any direction you turn, it's amazing.


gh3

looking out toward the ocean.


pano

The town, nestled behind barrier dunes and mountains.


boardtrail

There were other trails in the area. This one skirted the barrier dunes and traveled across a high bog filled with cotton grass, sedges, and carnivorous plants.


board trail
The pitcher plant is the official provincial flower of Newfoundland-Labrador. I think it's a marvelous choice, a plant that adapted to life on rock and bog with little nourishment.

ontheway

The road to/from Harbour Breton is pretty stunning too. This sort of view goes on for miles and miles.

HB2

I wish I could have stayed for weeks, for months (which is what it would take to explore, since the roads are so bad, when there are roads at all), discovering one fantastic place after another.

After I returned home, I had a conversation with a friend who gave voice to what so many have brought up: 
"It's clear that you have to be very comfortable being alone. Really alone."  In answering her, I finally clarified for myself what is the feeling of traveling solo. "I suppose that in terms of human company, that's true. But honestly, I didn't feel alone at all. The whole world was there. Waves held their incoming-splash conversations, wind butted in and tried to snatch stuff away, a whole flock of chickadees gave their opinion of my campsite (didn't like it one bit), rocks felt like old old friends that I could always count on. The sky brought around clouds, stars, the full moon for visits. It seems like the longer I'm out there, the more I feel the good company of all things."

This is the gift that awaits the solo traveler: the good company of all things. 

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