Terri and Peter's RV Adventures

I never thought I’d be an iceberg groupie but once you’ve seen one, you can’t get enough. So, we loaded up the truck and we moved to Twillingate (to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies). We enjoyed our ocean front campsite at Green Point Campground but we wanted to see the interior of Newfoundland and check out the tip of one of the fingers, actually it’s an island, called Twillingate and it was about 250 miles north and east of where we were; a four hour drive that took us six (sound like a pattern?).

The overall drive was luscious: thick stands of evergreens covering gently rolling hills pockmarked by more lakes and ponds than I could ever count or imagine existing within a 300 square mile area. Very few of the lakes or ponds have any housing or development on them. We’d drive by and ho-hum another beautiful lake surrounded by thick pine forests and no one here. What California would give for a tenth of these pristine lakes.

Heading due north up to Twillingate, the rolling forests gave way to more ocean bays and bridges over bays onto islands with tiny islands dotting the bays. It reminded me of the islands around Seattle and the Olympic Peninsula; that kind of pine forest, bay and island and ocean combination. We finally entered the tiny, utterly quaint town of Twillingate that’s on the island of Twillingate. This is an authentic working fishing village with fishing boats docked in the harbor, brightly painted small businesses and homes lining narrow streets sanctified by the occasional simple white church. It was so quaint and authentic, and not at all in a touristy way.

Our campground was good enough, just outside of town and we scored a private forested spot for the evening. The dogs were great travelers. After a left over dinner (ask me if I wanted fresh fish…yes, but no time), we unhitched and jumped in the truck heading for the icebergs based on sightings other campers had told us about. “Head to the high school, then to the lighthouse,” they said like local tour guides. Well, fortunately, we missed the turnoff to the lighthouse and did the usual rounding a corner when, BOOM! There it was. an iceberg looking like it was green-screened behind the typical little homes in the area.

We drove a little farther to a dead end and clambered up and over some rocks to a wide open rocky field and there it was, in all its glory, surrounded by satellite icebergs, and all so close to shore. It was breathtaking. Doubling the impact was the setting sun, at 8:25 pm. This part of the world is charming, wild, barren, windswept, rugged, sweet, simple, lovely. It harkens to the British Isles and the brogue of the locals only adds to that impression.

I could stay another full day exploring this fishing village but Peter wants to return to our first campground when we arrived on the island, Grand Codrey, so that’s where we’ll head tomorrow after a too brief visit here. Despite the drive and short time here, it was completely worth it. Exploration, experiencing the unexpected and getting a better feel for a place is what makes this kind of travel so exciting. I hope you enjoy the photos. (PS, my photos aren’t transferring to my laptop as usual so I’ll try formatting and sending them tomorrow. It’s late and I’m tired…)