I had been apprehensive, when I booked the crossing, about the seating facility in the
ferry. I wondered if I had blundered in not booking a cabin for overnight
rest. I need not have worried. The ferry had comfortable seats. Many passengers
carried sleeping bags, pillows, bed sheets and the like to spread themselves
out on the floor of the passenger deck. I made myself comfortable in one of the
reclining seats and slept nearly four hours before using the restroom to
freshen up and change. I viewed one of the most glorious sun rises in my life
on board the ferry. It was windy and cold, yet the sight before me kept me
transfixed. When I was enjoying the sight on the open deck I met Zaheer Khan
from Islamabad, Pakistan who is now settled in Montreal. He drives his truck between
Montreal and St John's in less than 40 hours, mostly with white goods. He told
me that he rakes in double the fare to transport goods during the winter. He
offered me a lift to St John's in his truck!
The
MV Highlander took the Cabot Strait crossing in 7 hours. As it docked at
Channel-Port aux Basques the time went forward by a half hour. It is -2.30 GMT
in Newfoundland. Within 15 minutes of
docking I was driving on the TCH 1E. The drive from Channel-Port aux Basques to
Corner Brook was indeed very scenic. The Table Mountains with some vestige of
snow still on them, the Atlantic Ocean curving by the side and a serene
environment made for an idyllic journey. I had originally made a reservation in
Corner Brook to stay overnight. A well-wisher who lives in Grandfalls-Windsor
suggested that that town, being almost midpoint between Channel-Port aux Basques and St.
John’s, would be a better place to halt overnight. I made the switch almost in the nick of time
and was happy to reserve accommodation in Maple Tourist Home. I made a similar
change for the return trip from St. John’s too. Thus, I was booked to stay in
Maple Tourist Home on 21st and 25th May.
While
disembarking from the ferry I had set Google Maps for the accommodation. After
driving nearly five hours and 500 km Google Maps landed me at an address in
Grandfalls-Windsor that bore no resemblance to the one I had reserved.
Nevertheless, it was a B&B, Carriage House Inn. Michael, who I met there,
soon confirmed that there wasn’t any Maple Tourist Home in Grandfalls-Windsor.
He got information on the internet that one such accommodation was available in
Grand Falls, New Brunswick. I was 1500 km away from where I had made the
reservation! Fortunately, Michael told me that he had a couple of rooms free
for the night. I took one on the ground floor and thanked God that I did not
have make any drastic last minute changes.
Once that matter was settled I had to deal with the cancellation of the
reserved accommodation. The booking vouchers showed that I was late for the
free cancellations. Despite that I made a pitch with booking.com for free
cancellation. In a couple of hours the site confirmed that, since I was a
frequent user of the site, the reservations had been cancelled for free,
without any charge. Otherwise, I stood to lose nearly C$ 230. But, what
flabbergasted me the most was the fact that Google Maps had led me to Carriage
House Inn, when I had set my destination as Maple Tourist Home in
Grandfalls-Windsor. Certainly, I regarded it as the work of the ‘unseen hand’.
Grandfalls-Windsor
is literally a one-horse town. After lunch and a short nap I went to the Gorge
Park, where Michael told me I would enjoy a quiet walk. The birch and fir
forest has walking trails to view the river, gorge and the falls. It was indeed
an invigorating walk but the gorge and falls were, by themselves, nothing much
of a sight. Almost accidentally I discovered the legend of the Beathuk chief,
Nonosabasut, on a plaque near one of the lookouts. It is said that the Chief
lost his life trying to save his wife and new born child. One of the large
rocks in the gorge is named after Nonosabasut and one of the profiles of the
rock is said to show his sad face. Indeed, a profile of the rock showed the sad
face.
After
a brief stop to look at the Town Hall, I gravitated to what seemed the only
active restaurant in town, the Tai-Wan. The personable lady, who kept calling
me sweetheart, suggested a meal of fried rice, spareribs and Foo young with
sauce. I chose to have a shot of Baccardi rum and coke before the dinner. The
large portion of the meal took some effort and time to get over. A day that
could well have been a disaster went off well, in the end. It was just a day to go
for the completion of the first leg of the Trans Canada Highway expedition.
No comments:
Post a Comment