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The most surly artist in Newfoundland

  The weather turned ugly as Julia and I headed back south on Newfoundland’s Viking Trail. What had been warm sun on bright sea only a few days before had turned to gray skies and wind-lashed foam. Pulling off at tiny Port au Choix, I did my level best to find a free place to […]

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Searching for bakeapple

  M is for mash, Or marish or mish, A wet, grassy spot where your rubbers go squish. With blackflies and bog Aunt Bertha will grapple Whenever she goes there To pick the bakeapple.                                                                                      -A Second Newfoundland Folk Alphabet Bakeapple. I’d head about bakeapple before coming to Newfoundland. It’s a word that catches your […]

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My run-in with the Mexican police

  This week, I’m interrupting our romp through Newfoundland for a little story that was prompted by this post from a well-known travel blogger. These folks are living in Mexico, and were stopped several times by the police for what they thought was la mordida –the little bribery “bite.” You can read their story on […]

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PUFFINS, you bird-lovers, and The Root Cellar Capital of the World

A junkyard beside the road can be as good a place as any to stop for the night. At this point, I have become adept at ferreting out secluded little spots to camp. I do this partly out of convenience–why go out of my way to find a campground for just one night? And I […]

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St. John’s, Newfoundland–screech, jellybean houses, and Donnie Dumphy

  St. John’s, Newfoundland, is a city that makes you happy just to be there. After all, who can be be crabby in a town that is crammed with jellybean houses? How can you sulk in a city with a street (George St.) that has more pubs per square foot than any other in North […]

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