Terri and Peter's RV Adventures

Cool, damp fog had rolled in over night to Bras de Or, but soon cleared off, providing a picturesque view of the arm of water, reflecting the bluebird sky, the color offsetting the rich green grass and tender new leaves on the coastal trees. It was as if the Divine had smiled down on Lily mercifully and said, “Yes, my dear black lab puppy with more energy than me, I will give you fields of green to run your little heart out before I ask you to sleep for seven hours in the middle of the day.” As for me, the primary ball chuck it thrower, it reminded me why 69 year olds don’t have toddlers. I washed one dish, threw a ball that had been tossed perfectly to my feet. Washed another dish, then another ball throw. You get the idea. But it took the edge off of her making it worth it.

We packed up at this perfect-for-us campground and headed to the ferry, which I thought was ten minutes away. Oops, now my GPS/Apple map said 25 minutes away and it didn’t make sense from where I thought we were going. Panic set in as we’re driving down the highway towards North Sydney. We called Marine Atlantic, got the address and plugged it in. Sure enough, 25 minutes but by then, I’d gotten off the freeway and stopped at a Petrol Canada gas station and ran in for directions. The woman at the counter seemed baffled by my question and her English wasn’t the best. Having no patience, I ran out of there and approached the first man I saw filling his car with gas. Tall, muscular, almost-shaved head with greying stubble and kind, blue eyes, I asked in a bit of a panic, “Are you familiar with this area? Do you know where I go to catch the Newfoundland Ferry?” He smiled confidently and said, “Well, you picked the right person. I’m the police chief.” That’s when I knew there was a God.

The chief gave me efficient directions and off we went. We arrived in enough time to hang out, give the dogs a walk and then drive onto this huge ship that was also carrying countless big rigs loaded with goods. The cars and trailers took up relatively little space compared to the trucks. We went to our little pet-friendly cabin with the girls and predictably, Cali settled in almost right away and Lily was skittish.

On the way to the cabin, Lily almost belly crawled across the walkway and once in the elevator, she would have dove for cover if there was any. She reminded me of the dog version of the cat with all four paws latched onto a screen door, claws dug in, as if electrified, with fur shooting out in all directions. She was freaked out. After looking at where their crates would have been had we not had a pet friendly cabin, it made me so grateful for this decision to go early and get this pet cabin.

Yes, it’s tight and somewhat claustrophobic but so much better than the alternative. And it was worth it for the showers! No worries about filling up the grey tank and now we’re clean and ready for Newfoundland/Labrador. The ferry was clean, quite comfortable and lulled all of us to sleep for varying amounts of time. Overall, the seven hour journey passed by quite easily.

We arrived at Newfoundland/Labrador to a biting wind and driving rain; what the weather app says is 47 degrees but feels like 29 degrees! Fortunately, the sun doesn’t set until 9:15 pm right now; especially important given that we arrived at roughly 6:30 pm and we lost another half hour. With Newfoundland Time, we’re 4-1/2 hours ahead of Pacific Time.

After making several mistaken attempts to find a restaurant where I could eat something gluten free, we decided to cobble together our own dinner from leftovers and drove a half hour up the island to the Cordray Valley and the Grand Cordray Campground. And grand it is! The owner, an older woman who owns the campground, inheriting it from her parents, was waiting for me in the Craft Shop. I could have bought almost everything in there. It’s all hand made goods from locals and she is very proud of her campground and her valley.

She gave me their newsletter that’s a year old which she wrote, explaining the next one is coming out in a week or so but not much changes here so this year old one should be fine. She looked like Mrs. Claus: fading soft blonde curls transitioning to white, a porcelain white skin with few wrinkles but a slight jowl forming. Sweet blue eyes and a roundish face with pink glowing cheeks.

She gave us a choice of three different campsites, electric, water and sewer for $30 US! The site had the best views of the river and valley according to her. And despite the sheets of cold rain and relentless winds, one could make out the river, valley and mountains and be convinced a view was to be had should the weather clear.

We immediately backed into a pinch-me spot with our dinette picture window facing the river and valley. There are very few campers here and no one immediately around me. We are gob smacked by this place and want to stay for three weeks! We will stay at least until 2 pm and do our laundry. Once again, we have plans but we can also change those plans. Rather than seven nights at Green Point Campground in Gros Morne National Campground, we may opt for returning here sooner. Hard to say but maybe the next campground will be even more spectacular!

It will be closer to some of the things we want to see based on what others told us while on the ferry: whales that come close to shore to feast on fish, puffins, and ice bergs! This feels like such an unusual and exciting place to be. I can’t wait to explore it!