In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

- John McCrae

suddenly

You're on the downslide.

But I suppose it's all Wheeeeeeeeee from here.

New Found Land - Day 6

Impressions

1. Driving is much easier than walking.
2. GPS systems that are lost aren't a lot of help.
3. The Kia Rio (my rental) might just be the worst car I've ever driven.
4. Archeological digs are cool.
5. Lighthouses are cool.

Picts

Dig.

Dug.

Dig.

Road to the lighthouse.

Lighthouse.

They really should put a fence up around the entire island.

The pool at Ferryland.

New Found Land - Day 5

Impressions

1. Railway museums should have trains.
2. The North East Harbour Walk is a long freaking way to the top of Signal Hill.
3. I'm in great shape for an 85 year old Swede.
4. Seven degrees in a blowing wind tends to be a might cold, except when you've hauled your 85 year old carcass to the top of the world again.
5. There's not a single pub between the top of Signal Hill and my B&B (without going massively up hill again). Life is so cruel to me.

Picts

This was taken from the boat the other day. If you look closely (click to embiggen) you can see the trail and stairways along the the edge of the precipice of death.

Looking back to where I entered the trail.

Back along the trail into the harbour.

No fucking kidding.

A long liner.

When I crested a brow and saw this, I said, out loud: Fuck me!

Approaching doom. It reminds me of the staircase leading to Dr. Witty's mansion.

You're killing Chris. You bastard!

Ha ha ha ha! Beat you!

New Found Land - Day 4

Impressions

1. Rain is wet.
2. The Rooms (the provincial museum and art gallery) is very good, especially on a rainy day.
3. The cafe in The Rooms has very good food.
4. The cafe in The Rooms serves Iceberg beer...made with iceberg water apparently.
5. The Liquor Store attached to the Sobeys, just up the hill (of course) from the B&B has a better selection of, well, everything than almost any LCBO I've been in.
6. You can get a lot of writing done on a rainy day. You can....doesn't mean I did.
7. Iceberg beer is the closest I'll get to an iceberg. They're all lingering up north still (icebergfinder.com).

Picts

Basilica, with street lamp and walk sign

The place

The living room

On the stairway

New Found Land - Day 3

Impressions and Picts

1. Escalators. Think about it people.
2. When you have your glasses hanging by a string around your neck, make sure you bob when the boat weaves, else, the glasses hit the rail and you watch as one of your lenses goes flying overboard.
3. Once you have one lens in your reading glasses, you have to close one eye to use them, hence looking like some stupid pirate.
4. Pirates, contrary to popular belief, did not lose an eye....they lost a lens in their reading glasses. As such, it was easier to wear a patch than close one eye when ordering dinner.
5. Arrrrrr mateys is the natural utterance of annoyance when trying to read a menu with one eye closed.
6. "Thar be dragons there" was in reference to Dragon Optometrists and not a mythical beast.
7. Long John Silver didn't have a wooden leg. He had a wooden lens (not very effective).
8. Never eat dinner at a place known for being a party bar. 
9. Whale and iceberg cruises aren't as good when there are no whales or icebergs. However, being on the water is far better than being on land (there are no hills).
10. The US Open starts really late when you're on NL time (but that's OK because it makes a great sleeping pill).
11. Time for a glass of wine.

Picts

I thought this was funny. A bit of electrical tape and there you are.

My destiny.

Following a working boat out of the harbour.

Me. The door to the head was open. There was a mirror. I took advantage of that just like some pro photog (we call ourselves photogs).

Does it look rough? It wasn't really. Windy, but an off-shore, so not really.

But tourists can always get wet.

Who's driving the boat?

Now if only Quint were balanced on the mast? It would be a great shot instead of a picture of masts and radar.

New Found Land - Day 2

Impressions and Picts

1. Signal Hill is at 10,329 m., dwarfing Mt Everest and making Edmund Hillary a sissy.
2. My knees are now hippies (see day 1 if that makes no sense).
3. My Dr. is a pretty good cardiac surgeon (see day 1....).
4. The wind can blow hard enough to knock me off my feet, almost.
5. The stuff they make flags out of for Cabot Tower on Signal Hill? That's what the Enterprise needs for shields.
6. The stout at Yellowbelly brew pub is still excellent (3 pints proved that).
7. The fish&chips at Yellowbelly are excellent. And that's not just the 3 pints of stout talking.
8. In My World, all pubs will be at the top of the hill; all B&B's will be at the bottom of the hill. So there.
9. Signal Hill took all day so the railway museum is tomorrow. Happily, it's just down street from Yellowbelly (sadly, downhill from the B&B).

Picts

From most of the way up Signal Hill.

Zoomed in. If you draw a line straight down from the left tower on the Basilica, across the road from the church below that is my B&B. Those giant houses on the left are a Provincial Museum.

The lighthouse on the south shore of the Narrows:

Yeah, St John's again (I have hundreds):

Cabot Tower. Wind blowing.

Told you it was windy.

It's a small world afterall.

But this week, Newfoundland is the center of the universe.

My friend on the bench. (Just can't keep the birds away.)

Oh. Canada. Bright sunshine and blowing wind.

New Found Land

Impressions from Day 1

1. Well, there are a lot of convertibles here. Miatas, Porshes, Solstices, Mercs, etc. I think this is hope beyond hope because...
2. The fog here seems to actually be rain. Either that or it is a very thick fog.
3. There be hills here. Big hills. Streets end in stairways. I'm either going to survive or call a cardiac surgeon. Not sure which yet. Next year: Saskatoon!
4. The smoking laws in pubs are much the same here. So, when the two middle aged women (I'm so kind) wanted to duck outside for a smoke, the bar tender asked them to pay their tab ($54.50) first. I can understand that at 11:50AM. (I was just seeing local colour and accidentally drifted into the bar).
5. They don't curb their dogs. The sidewalks are a minefield.
6. Perhaps drivers have the right of way at all times. Or perhaps when making a left turn into me, they just want to honk to ensure I know they are there for my protection. (Side story: the cabby picking me up at the airport left his car in neutral, which then rolled forward and ran into the cabby ahead...you know...the guy loading baggage into his trunk. Fortunately, I think he wasn't hurt badly because of the V-shaped nose of my cab. But he was not uninjured and not happy.)
7. Yellow Belly brewery/pub makes great stout. Mmmmmmmm. Will be back.
8. Oh yeah....it's time to regroup and plan the rest of the day. OK....it's time for my afternoon nap. Want to make something of....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Images
Iconic...

Symptomatic...

More Impressions from Day 1

1. These hills will put hair on your knees.
2. Excellent Indian food. Second port I know of with great Indian.
3. Just when you think it's really raining, it clears off and there's a rainbow at the mouth of the harbour. Of course that also means you left your camera back in the room.
4. I want to open a Mr. Clutch franchise (although since stop signs are just a suggestion, maybe it wouldn't do so well).
5. St John's Basilica is a beautiful building, but like the Notre Dame in Montreal, it's missing the grave stones in the floor. In fact, St John's is carpeted. It just doesn't feel quite the same.
6. Fog is quiet.

Pict to try to get hills across

Snow with Crappy Trees

My Order is Well Travelled

Location Date Local Time Description
OTTAWA, ON, CA 05/05/2010 8:22 OUT FOR DELIVERY
05/05/2010 7:40 ARRIVAL SCAN
MOUNT HOPE, ON, CA 05/05/2010 6:41 DEPARTURE SCAN
05/05/2010 4:43 IMPORT SCAN
05/05/2010 4:02 ARRIVAL SCAN
BUFFALO, NY, US 05/05/2010 1:34 DEPARTURE SCAN
05/05/2010 1:12 ARRIVAL SCAN
LOUISVILLE, KY, US 04/05/2010 16:09 DEPARTURE SCAN
LOUISVILLE, KY, US 03/05/2010 8:53 ARRIVAL SCAN
ANCHORAGE, AK, US 02/05/2010 20:37 DEPARTURE SCAN
LOUISVILLE, KY, US 02/05/2010 8:28 ARRIVAL SCAN
ANCHORAGE, AK, US 01/05/2010 21:21 ARRIVAL SCAN
01/05/2010 19:41 DEPARTURE SCAN
SHANGHAI, CN 02/05/2010 5:25 DEPARTURE SCAN
02/05/2010 2:45 DEPARTURE SCAN
SHANGHAI, CN 30/04/2010 21:23 EXPORT SCAN
CN 29/04/2010 7:13 BILLING INFORMATION RECEIVED

Springtime

Lucky Day

"Gate 13, Black Cat Airlines, flight 1313 for Broken Mirror, now boarding." The scratchy speaker in the terminal building said.

I looked up to the ceiling to the point where I thought I'd heard that. It can't be. It's a joke. Who would fly on such an airline? There isn't any place called Broken Mirror. There probably isn't even a gate 13.

"Passengers for Black Cat flight 1313 to Broken Mirror should proceed under the ladder to gate 13. Now boarding."

I looked up from my paper again. It wasn't April Fools day. It must have been the last day for this announcer and he was having some fun. It was ridiculous. Since when would they direct people to walk under a ladder.

"Gate 13, Black Cat Airlines, flight 1313, last call."

Last call. You're right about that. This must be the end of the joke. I lowered my paper and looked across the terminal building. A ladder was leaning against the wall. A man in a black suit was walking under it. Over his head, a sign said Gate 13. The board over the door to the gangway said BCA 1313 - Broken Mirror – on time. The plane sitting outside the window had an arched black cat on the nose cone.

Oh come on. This is an elaborate joke. Or a shock flight for an afraid-to-fly therapy group. Or maybe a charter for weirdo goths, with money.

The man in the black suit stopped under the ladder, turned, and looked right at me, Then he walked over towards me. I looked around behind me for that someone he must know. There was nobody paying any attention.

"You're going to miss your flight." he said to me.

"Huh? I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm not flying to, uh, Broken Mirror."

"Yes. You are. Check your ticket." He nodded at my chest. My ticket was in my breast pocket, inside my jacket.

"I don't have to check my ticket. I know where I'm going, and it isn't Broken Mirror. You're going to miss your flight though." The light over the gangway was flashing; a sure sign they were going to close the doors soon.

"Check your ticket, sir," he politely insisted.

I raised my voice a little, "I don't have to. I know where I'm going. Leave me alone!"

"You knew where you were going. But, that flight's been cancelled for you. Bad luck, I guess."

"My flight doesn't leave for another 2 hours. It's still on time. Look at the screen." I looked up at it. Sure enough, my flight was listed as on time.

"I know. But, there's no point in waiting, is there? I thought you'd like to jump the queue, get there ahead of schedule. No point waiting around here for 2 hours, when your plane is leaving now, is there?"

"Leave me alone! I'm not getting on that plane. Here," I took my ticket out of my pocket, "see, it's a ticket to Ottawa, not Broken Mirror." I showed him my ticket. "I don't even know where Broken Mirror is. Why would I want to go there?"

"I don't need to see your ticket. But you do. Go on, take a look."

I turned the ticket around and looked at it. The flight to Ottawa was x'd out in those little red x's they print across void lines. Below it was flight 1313, BCA, Broken Mirror BKM, gate 13, seat 23A.

"It's a window seat, sir."

"What's going on? Who got to my ticket and changed it? I'm on flight 875 AC to Ottawa. Gate 34. Seat 23A."

"Yes, we were able to give you the same seat. This way, please, hurry, they're closing the gate."

"No! I have to go straighten this out. This is crazy."

"Suit yourself. Wait around for another 2 hours. Get on flight 875. It's a long wait on these uncomfortable chairs. The next flight to Broken Mirror doesn't leave until after flight 875 is done. I'll see you then."

"Oh great. This must be my lucky day."

"Not quite, sir."

I watched as he walked back under the ladder, under the board for flight 1313 to Broken Mirror, and through the door to the gangway. The door closed behind him and he disappeared from my view.

I didn't see him again until two and a half hours later when I boarded flight 1313 with all the other passengers and crew of flight 875. They couldn't give me a window seat this time. I was stuck in the middle seat. Guess it wasn't my lucky day, after all.