Bonavista is at the tip of a peninsula around Trinity Bay from St. John's. It took us much of the day to drive there with the worst weather we've had in quite some time. As we drove I pleaded with Mother Nature in my mind: Please lighten the fog so we won't hit that moose one hundred yards down the road. Please stop the rain. And most of all, please stop the gusts of wind that have Ken gripping the steering wheel as tightly as I usually do. Occasionally, Mother Nature complied briefly, but it was still sprinkling and windy when we arrived at Paradise (the name of the campground.) I put on the parka I usually wear when we leave home after Christmas.
We traveled to town to find some internet; none at the campground. It looks very picturesque and historic. We'll be coming here again tomorrow to tour the place, so I'll get my camera then out no matter what the weather. At the suggestion of the campground owner, we stopped by the seafood plant and bought four pounds of snow crab for dinner. The leftover lasagna can wait.
The locals are almost impossible to understand. They seem to know what we are saying, but we have no idea about them. The drop the "h's" in front of words and add them to others where no "h" is written. We smile and nod.