Canadian Twighlight Zone, you are entering NST

When most people have found out that I am off to Newfoundland this weekend, they turn their head slightly off to the side, screw up their face a little and often reply with"why? Now paraphrase with me here, what they really mean is "where?" It's okay to admit that your geography of Canada is slightly fuzzy. You were probably not taught anything about it in school, and even if you were it might mention that they speak a bastardized version of French that even the French make fun of, or that french fries with cheese curds and gravy is called Poutine.


The modern map and below is Cook's version from back in the day.

So it's understandable that you may not know that the furthest piece of rock to the east, poking out into the Atlantic where the cold Labrador Current and the warm Gulf Stream meet is Newfoundland. Inhabited by a hospitable crowd of folk with an accent lost somewhere between Irish, Scottish and Canadian, who unjustly so are often made fun of by the rest of Canada. Which is a shame really because we know full well that the only Canadians we should be picking on are the Quebecois.

Thursday morning I'm off to Newfoundland and an entirely new place. It's been some time since I went somewhere completely new and hearing the other day there are icebergs in the bay i was truly excited. The type of excitement when you go the video store and they have the watermelon variety of Sour Patch Kids, or you find Marmite in an American Supermarket. That wonderful childhood "just found your mum's secret stash of white chocolate and macadamia nut cookies" excitement.

Newfoundland's official animal is the Caribou, a large, majestic beast tough enough to stand up to the harsh winter this province is subject to.

It is also in possession of it's own time zone. Newfoundland Standard Time, which is an hour and a half, please do not forget the half, a head of Eastern Standard Time. Those crazy kids!

After getting a message the other day that saying we may have a chance to see icebergs in the bay I was getting a little more excited about the trip and the possibility of quality whitewater. While I thought about this a little more it dawned on me how cold I was going to be. So checking the weather was not really that much more comforting. Tonight's forecast is 0 degrees centigrade with freezing drizzle. A quick couple of calls to beg for a borrowed Dry-suit and I'm glad that I did not donate my down jacket to goodwill when I moved to the south.

Having been paddling in a rash guard for the last few weeks it will be odd to don every piece of fleece I own but fun none the less to see new runs in a place I have never been. Can't wait, and if the Shipping News is anything to go by I am sure that it'll be a fairly beautiful place. Despite the freezing drizzle. Oh yeah, and Puffins.