The bus

That hostel I wrote about a couple of days ago was indeed interesting. It was inhabited by a couple of teenagers - Paul and Paula, and their puppy (which I suspect was a pit bull). They seemed kind of at home - like - this isn't a hostel, its my home - and were quite alarmed when I mentioned that the manager had said they had tour groups in this summer. I wonder how that's all going to work out.

I spent yesterday working furiously in the university library while Mac and Sidney checked out the Fluvarium - some sort of river oriented science centre. And then today was our first long bus ride - 13 hours across Newfoundland from St. John's to Port aux Basques. (Basques were here? Really? I had no idea). We did it. And it wasn't horrendous - although we were in the 'punk rock' back row seats, that were a tad close to the loo.

Last night, we were the only tenters in a St. John's campground (Pippy Park - I enjoy anything named that reminds me of ms. longstocking) - and woke at dawn to trudge to the bus. The ride allowed me to get a lot of work done and when I looked out the window - frankly it was pretty stunning. This island is WAY bigger than I thought it would be. And way less developed. It felt like we rolled for hours through forested mountains, some with snow still on top. We ate mozzerella sticks, with fries and grilled cheese for dinner (I can just feel the grease oozing out of my skin), and arrived in Port aux Basques somewhat dizzy from the bus.

We then totally confused Sidney by telling him that we were going to our hotel, and arrived at a B and B. He froze when he saw the friendly Newfoundlanders who welcomed us into their living room. You could just see him radiating the question - 'who are these people?' and "Mum, this isn't a hotel." Nonetheless, in fifteen minutes he was showing them how he could make a volcano with his science kit. He warms up fast sometimes.

Tomorrow we leave Newfoundland, and while the weather kind of blows, I'm sad to be leaving. But its off to Nova Scotia we go.