Newfoundland, Part 2: Baccalieu Trail

After plucking the fruit of St. John's and drinking all of the juice that we could squeeze from it, we headed out across the Avalon peninsula to see what else there was to see.  It turns out that there was still a lot of juice left in the pulp of Newfoundland...

One of the little towns that was recommended to us as being particularly quaint and picturesque (cue the camera) was the town of Brigus.  And such a lovely little town it was.

In some ways it was a little too lovely, in fact, for it was as if we were walking around in a eerily beautiful movie set, and the symmetry of our personal movie plot dictated that there must be an army of horrifying zombies milling about around the corner for the sole purpose of ruining the pastoral serenity of the surroundings.  Luckily, I am happy to report that no such zombies appeared to gnaw on our flesh, and that the town is both beautiful and safe.

From there, we went on to the hamlet of Harbour Grace to stay at that night's B&B.  While the place we stayed in provided Katie and I with the nice home-cooked meal and the chance to get out of the car and stretch that we were very much looking forward to, Clara was more excited to meet O'Malley, an extremely tolerant Newfoundland dog that looked like he could eat her for a midafternoon snack, if he was so inclined.  Luckily, he was not so inclined, and Clara calmly went about petting the heck out of his fur.

There was also a steamboat run aground in the middle of the harbor.  This seems like the sort of thing that would provoke all manner of explanatory signs and scenic parking lots here in Massachusetts, but in Harbour Grace it appeared to be as prosaic as the potholes that one can find in abundance on Massachusetts Ave. 

We also visited the Salmonier Nature Park to see our obligatory Newfoundland Moose.  This particular moose was amused by Clara's variety of giggling, squeaking, and general chattiness, and followed us along the fence as we ambled by.

Over the course of the sojourn, we also found this fishing shack off of the side of the road, which was doing all it could to look casual despite the excitement that it felt because I was taking a picture of it. 

Finally, we visited the black sand beach (who needs volcanos?) at Salmon Cove, and Clara went berserk chasing the seagulls and marveling at the beautiful scenery. 

She's probably still be there today if we didn't drag her away.