St John's - Postscript

Back to work for both of us today. It feels a bit odd to return to our routine. How can I sit at a desk all day when there are stormy, rocky cliffs and lonely, lovely seaside vistas to be contemplated to the accompaniment of bird calls and the sound of the wind - all just a short flight away?

We walk to work this morning in an attempt to counteract the culture shock. We take the lake route.

It's all very calm and serene....there are joggers and cyclists, and we say good morning to everyone, like good little Newfoundlanders. The sun is warm and the lake is serenely blue, and the seabirds who winter on our lake have not yet flown north. They bob and dive shyly, and when we peer into the water, we see them swimming below the surface.

And there are swans, swimming hopefully up and eyeing us beadily with a view to breadcrumbs.



So...it may not be wild and mysterious and atmospheric and full of ferociously gregarious Newfoundlanders - but it's home and I did miss it.

For dinner tonight we ate the Potter's moose sausages. They were divine.



So that's it for now! The summer is coming, and with it some road trips and adventures, we hope.

Thanks for sharing this journey with us, gentle readers.

xo

St John's - Heading Home

My man and Karen - breakfast-maker extraordinaire.


So today we say goodbye to new friends and fly home to old ones.

I'm not sad to leave the weather (there is hail this morning), but I wish we'd had more time to explore the island. And to see more live local music. And to visit the antique shops - I didn't make it into a single one! And to have lunch at the little Afghani place on Duckworth...and buy fish from the Fish Depot...and to get to Belbin's...and - well, I think I may have to get back to St John's sometime very soon!

We had a couple of errands to run before we left town - a visit to the Newfoundland Weavery to buy one of their fabulous larch cutting boards, and a stop at the Craft Council for a few gifty things to bring home.

The Potter kindly offered to drive us to the airport; she picked us up at 10:30am sharp, bearing a parting gift of frozen moose sausage made by some friends who hunt, securely wrapped in layers of plastic and tin foil. We stashed it deep in our luggage, hoping it wouldn't defrost too quickly.

The Professor stopped by for a quick goodbye, and after hugs all round we were off. Half an hour later, we were hugging the Potter goodbye and heading into the airport.

Our flight home had a high ratio of children to adults aboard, which worried us a bit - especially when we found ourselves sitting across the aisle from a rosy-cheeked and smiling cherub of about six months of age, whose two year-old brother was roaring lustily in his seat, in protest against some (I'm sure entirely valid) injustice. They soon quieted down, however, and my Man spent a large portion of the flight picking up toys that were dropped in the aisle and turning picture book pages, much to the delight of the cherub.

The highlight of our flight was consuming our leftover steak and cheesy bread from our meal at Christopher's the previous evening. No airline traveller ever had it so good.



Our flight landed in Toronto at a quarter past three, and by four-thirty we were strolling down Roncesvalles in the sunshine, without our scarves, hats, gloves or boots.

It's good to be home.

St John's - Last Night

I can safely say that there is one thing I won't miss about St John's and that is the mercurial weather. Changeable doesn't begin to cover it.

Tonight it was WINDY. The kind of windy that pushes you sideways, like it's in a bigger hurry than you are. We bundle up and head out.



Earlier in the week, we'd noticed a sign outside of the local Mexicali Rosa's indicating 2 for 1 margaritas on Mondays. This was our first stop. Mmmm. Just as good as Hernando's back home, once we convinced them to rim the glasses with coarse instead of table salt.

A couple of stools away, a little further down the bar, were a couple of guys who were also enjoying the 2 for 1 margaritas - two at a time! They had two rounds of two each while we were there, followed by a Corona each. When we left, they were attempting drunken come-ons to the trio of very pert, very young, very pretty bartenders.

We'd been craving steak, so we went to Christopher's for our last meal in St John's. It was a good choice! Christopher's is run by two friends - one is the chef, the other is the maitre d'. The maitre d' also provides table service - Christopher's is small enough not to warrant any other staff - and he was sweetly attentive, clearly proud of his restaurant and his food.

After a starter of scallops for my Man and a Gazpacho salad for me, we each ordered the 6oz "Sissy" cut steak - cooked rare. It came to the table on a bed of beautifully nutty linguine, tossed in olive oil with perfectly cooked fresh vegetables, and dressed with the chef's special wild game demi-glace. Perfection.



We couldn't finish the steaks, they were so enormous, so we asked if we could have our leftovers wrapped up, along with some of their special cheesy bread. These makeshift sandwiches are sitting in my carry-on bag right now, ready to be consumed once we're in the air.

After dinner we met the Actress at the bar in the Fairmont Newfoundland, which is just across the street from our B&B. The decor in Fairmont bars, in my limited experience, seems to be always violently outdated, and this one was no exception. Nothing matched or was coordinated; the carpet, the chairs, the upholstery, the tables, the bar all looked like all they had been purchased and installed at different stages in the hotel's history, each at least a decade apart. Which can work if everything is comfortable, well-made and well-designed, but can be disastrous if not. The Fairmont Newfoundland has none of St John's charm, romance or humour- it's a faceless, anonymous nonentity that could be in any city in any part of the world. Disappointing.

It was our last night in St John's, though, so after a nice communal rant about the decor we focused on more interesting subjects and enjoyed a couple of drinks before it was time for my Man and I to turn in. The Actress had a rehearsal the next day, so she wasn't up for a late night either.

We'd considered a little "pre-packing" that night, but between the margaritas, the wine at dinner, and the wine at the Fairmont...well, lying down became really the only option.


The bar at the Fairmont.

St John's - Last Day!

It suddenly occurred to me that I've written nothing about breakfasts! The second B in B&B has been an important part of our stay - mostly because of Karen. I'm not going to give her an alias, because if you come to stay here at The Roses, you will meet her and love her as we do.

She is also a darn fine cook. We've eaten her French toast, her pancakes with partridgeberries, her omelettes, and her delightful grilled-cheese-with-fried-egg-on-top (our personal favourite).

Yesterday morning over breakfast, we were discussing the merits of the various fish and chip shops in town. My man expressed a partiality for Ches's. Karen said she preferred Leo's (the fish pieces are thicker). Her mother always liked Kavanagh's. I absorbed this information in silence, but did a little googling when I was back in our room to see where all these places were located.

My man had a school visit today, at a private school called St Bonaventure's. He spoke to a group of Grade 4 students, and afterward Sherry Ryan and Andrea Munro played the guitar for them.

He was due home after twelve-thirty, so I embarked on my quest for fish and chips around eleven-thirty. It was a fair hike up to the area where both Leo's and Ches's were located. I had hoped to try Leo's, since neither of us had had it before, but sadly I had forgotten to go to the bank machine, and Leo's only takes cash. Such a shame - it was very greasy spoonish, with one of those traditional menu boards where you stick the little plastic letters into white grooved backlit plastic. The food they were serving looked very good, particularly the plates featuring mountains of fries smothered in dark gravy. Also, I had read online that they fry in lard, which does make for a very crispy finish.

Ches's was an altogether more polished establishment. Very clean and white and orderly, with printed menus and two dining areas. I ordered a two-piece meal and a side of onion rings, as well as a small coleslaw. Stocked up on their special malt vinegar and some tartar sauce from the condiment stand. My meal came in a large brown bag, the warmth of which I could feel right through my coat as I carried it home.

When I unlocked the door of our room, my Man was back. He looked at my brown bag inquiringly...and then a gleam appeared in his eyes. "Is that...?" His eyebrows shot up.

I smiled.



Delicious.

After lunch, he headed back to the Professor's house to wrap up a few things, and I headed across the street to the Fairmont Newfoundland for a little indulgence at their spa. Waiting for my session to begin, I observed two gentlemen being shown in for their pedicures. Big burly men, with large bellies, boots, and bomber jackets - manly men, who looked like they'd come off one of the tankers. As I was shown into my own treatment room, the two girls assigned to take care of them were helping them into their pedicure chairs and providing them with soothing neck wraps....

St John's - Eighth Night

You would not believe how hard it is to find an open pharmacy in St John's on a Sunday!

First we tried the Water Street Pharmacy.

Closed.

The pleasant young man doing a crossword at the counter of the menswear shop next door told us that there was another pharmacy on Long's Hill.

We hoof it up to Long's Hill.

Closed.

Long's Hill is halfway to the big Sobey's, where I'm sure the pharmacy is open, so we hike up there (this is all uphill from Water Street, I should mention - and in St John's, hills are HILLS).

Success!! The Sobey's pharmacy is open!

We have our prescription filled, and pick up a few necessities. My man forgot his razor, so has become a bit grizzly over the week. He has a school visit with the guitar tomorrow, so we figured a shave was probably a good idea. Don't want to scare the children.

In our wanderings, we pass a little restaurant called Nautical Nellie's, with a sandwich board outside promising $3.50 Caesars. We look at each other. Twelve seconds later, we're seated at the bar. The Caesars are delicious! So is the Codaroni we order to share. (Think mac and cheese, but with delicious morsels of cod.) An hour later we leave Nellie's, revitalized.



We have a show at the Ship in tonight - a local landmark, and musical hub of the city. My Man is going to give a talk and a Power Point presentation to start things off, and then a great group of local musicians will play the guitar. The staff at the local Craft Council have kindly arranged to lend us their multi-media projector, so we pop in to their office on the way home to pick it up.



It's huge!! When we get it back to the B&B and hook it up it doesn't want to work with our laptop. I try to download the manual online - and discover the projector is twelve years old!

Sadly, we never are able to get it to work, so there will be no multi-media presentation for the good folks at the Ship.



We arrive at the Ship around 7:30pm and meet the bartender, Tim. There's some gear on stage, but they don't have a house tech, so my Man and I set up two vocal mics, an instrument mic, and a DI box, plug it all into the PA system and power it up. Amazingly, it works! (I knew that theatre tech degree would come in handy.)
People start trickling in. The Potter and her cousin. Our friend, the Actress, whom my Man and the Photographer met here one boozy night at the folk festival last August, when she was attempting intimacy with a giant inflatable beer can. The Professor - but not the Musician, who had choir practice. The musicians who will play tonight: Dan Rubin, Amelia Curran, Tom Power, Jeik Loksa, Sandy Morris, Jenny Gear, Peter Narvaez, Jill Porter, Sherry Ryan, Joanne Wareham and Duane Andrews.



I've heard my Man speak about the guitar many, many times, but this evening he was in particularly fine form - he was eloquent, passionate, and sincere - he moved us all to tears. The projector was not missed!

And then there was the music. The room was busy for a Sunday night, and yet you could have heard a pin drop. Absolutely wonderful music from a great community of artists. A very memorable event.


The Potter and I.

St John's - Day Eight

So far, today has been a bit of a bomb.

My Man didn't sleep well last night. What began as a twinge in his shoulder as we went to bed, escalated through the night to the point where even lying still was agony. I thought maybe our double bed was just too small for the pair of us, so moved into the twin spare bed around 3am, but the extra room didn't seem to help him - by 4:30am he was in the shower, hoping heat would help relieve the pain - and by 6:30am we were hailing a cab on the street, heading to the local emergency room.

The thought of a St John's emergency room on a Sunday morning after a Saturday night was daunting - but when we arrived there wasn't another soul in the place. This is my Man, gazing in dismay at the waiting room television, which is blaring CNN at a very un-Sundaymorningish volume.



We only waited about ten minutes for a check-in session, and then another fifteen or so to see the doctor - who couldn't find anything wrong.

He gave my Man an injection, and then a prescription for some muscle relaxants and that was that. Unfortunately, there was no pharmacy in the hospital - and at eight o'clock on a Sunday morning, no local pharmacies are open - so we staggered out into the morning and wandered vaguely in the direction of our B&B.

There was not a taxi to be found, and it didn't seem that we were too far from home....but then it started to hail...and then we realized we were kind of hungry....but what's open on a Sunday morning before 8am? The local Tim Hortons! We headed in that direction, thoughts of eggy breakfast sandwiches spurring our steps.

On our way, we passed a 24-hour restaurant - so we took the chance and went in. We should have held out for Tim Hortons. Nothing on the menu appealed to my Man, but we'd committed so we had to order something. I won't tell you what we ate (I'm too embarrassed), but it was revolting. Pretty much what you'd expect from what was basically a pub that stays open 24 hours.

Back on the street, the hail had turned to rain. We started passing all manner of lovely, cozy-looking restaurants, just open at 8am on a Sunday morning.

Fifteen minutes later, soaked and tired, we were back home and back in bed.

It's now 2pm and the sun is out.

We are off to the pharmacy.

St John's - Seventh Night

On our own tonight, which was very pleasant indeed!



After a some fairly extensive internet restaurant research, we decided to go with a recommendation of the Potter's, and have dinner at Bianca's. Unsure how busy things were in downtown St John's on a Saturday night, we called ahead to book a table for seven o'clock.

When we arrived, there was one other couple there.

That was no reflection on either the food, the wine or the service, however. Bianca's was our most delightful dining experience to date. There were a number of local and seasonal items on the menu, and the wine list was extensive - and life-sized! No written wine list for Bianca's - instead custom shelving lines one of the restaurant's walls, displaying the current inventory of wine, sorted by region and grape. Fantastic display - but I think it took us longer to decide than if we had been reading a wine list. You get so distracted by the visuals...

This is what we went with, and it was delish:



We'd heard that the scallops and the halibut are particularly good right now, so whenever we've seen these items on the menu, we've leaped at them. My Man's appetizer was a delicious concoction of caramelized scallops on a fennel puree - it was gorgeous!



My own appetizer was a less spectacular but very tasty salad of cucumber, tomato, roasted pepper and eggplant, topped with a squidgy mound of soft Bulgarian feta. We've been terrible about eating vegetables here - I really needed the salad. I felt healthier after three bites.

Choosing our main course was a challenge. Everything sounded so good - and there were a number of specials that were very tempting. In the end, my Man went with the duck breast and I chose the panko-crusted salmon topped with a snow crab ravioli.





The duck was rare and juicy - and the salmon was the most perfectly cooked piece of fish I have ever eaten. The service was friendly and knowledgeable, and allowed us ample time to linger over our wine after the plates were cleared.

After dinner we went for a stroll downtown, wandering along George Street - the party street - where it was too early for much to be going on yet. (It was only 9pm.) Back on Water Street we decided on one last glass of wine at the Gypsy Tea Room before heading home.

This picture is of a poster on the door of an office on Water Street, where they promote and distribute a line of clothing from Iceland. I can't imagine what made them think that this image would inspire people to buy their clothing - this is the scariest family I have ever seen!

St John's - Day Seven

Today is the Italian's last day. He flies home at 5pm. So we planned a snacky lunch of cheese, bread, olives, salad, sardines and smoked salmon - very nice! The bread, made locally, was especially good - we tore into it like wolves! The Italian found a lovely selection of cheeses at Auntie Crae's, including a delicious goat Gouda, some Double Gloucester, and a delicious stinky French one I can't remember the name of...

After lunch, we walked down to the water to take a few photos of the three collaborators:



Before the colleagues headed back to work, my Man, the Italian and I took a walk further out along the Outer Battery Road, to the trail that winds eventually up to Signal Hill.

Here they are posing for their album cover:



It was windy and the sun kept popping in and out from behind the clouds, so it was kind of chilly - but the view was spectacular, and the trail is a delight. Well-maintained, kind of rocky - you can see how it would be completely hazardous in the winter - in fact, there is a sign at the entrance that says it's closed from October through the end of March, and there was snow in parts that made the going a little tricky.

In this photo, you can see the a section of the path where you have to hold on to chains strung along the rock face:



The point furthest away is where we were yesterday - Cape Spear:



I do like to be beside the seaside...



My Man and I are on our own tonight (I think the Professor and the Musican are glad of a break! But we'll see them tomorrow night at the Ship...), and I'm not sure what we're doing for dinner yet....I'm hoping to find time for my daily nap, however. Not sure how I'm going to function once I'm back to my regular routine. Mid-afternoon is a very hard time of day to stay awake through!

St John's - Sixth Night

Dinner tonight was at Restaurant 21.

My Man, the Italian and I all had the caribou medallions on truffled potatoes, with sourdough toutons dressed in a salt meat and white bean stew.



Nuff said.

It was our last dinner together, since the Italian has to head back out to BC tomorrow. The three colleagues have been immersed in their work, it's difficult for them to talk about anything else - but the Musican and I don't mind. The show is going to be great, if our dinner table conversations are any indication.

After dinner we went down to George Street, which is the all-night party street of St John's, to Club One, where we saw Buck 65 do his thing for very appreciative Friday night crowd. Sadly, we were too late for the opening act, Cadence Weapon, whom my Man had interviewed earlier in the day for the new show, but Cadence (AKA Roland Pemberton) came by to say hello before leaping on stage for a dynamic encore with Buck.



After the show, my Man and I headed back to the B&B - but the Italian needed to let off a little steam (his hard drive had literally combusted earlier that day, losing a week's worth of work), so he went off to Water Street in search of House music. He did a little dancing, made a few new friends, heard some good tunes and got home at 3:30AM!

St John's - Day Six

Another cloudy, drizzly day today - the perfect day to take a drive out to Cape Spear, the easternmost point of North America! The Potter met me in the coffee shop next door to the B&B at noon, and we drove south about six miles to the Cape.

Signal Hill in the sunshine is one face of the coast; Cape Spear on a foggy, rainy day is quite another. There are signs everywhere warning of sudden large waves, and the walkways and fencing keep you well away from the rocks close to the water. All you can hear is the occasional seabird's cry, the sound of the sea crashing on the rocks and cliffs, and the foghorn sounding once each minute.



To the north we could see Signal Hill, and pulling out to sea was a tanker that had been in the harbour since we arrived here on Sunday.



There are two lighthouses on the Cape: the older one set back from the water (this is the one shown in the link above), and the newer lighthouse closer to the edge, below. It's all run by computers these days, so no lighthouse keeper resides on Cape Spear any longer.



We stopped in Deadman's Harbour on the way back to watch a flock of seabirds gathering offshore. We couldn't figure out what they were doing....



Back in St John's we stopped for lunch at International Flavours - a wee Indian restaurant disguised as a house where your choices are merely "chicken or vegetable". Off goes the owner, Talat, into the kitchen, and ten minutes later a boy emerges with a plate of the most incredible food....chick peas, dal, chicken, two kinds of curried mixed vegetables, rice, lime pickle and a little yogurt with a dab of green chile in it. No menu, just whatever she happens to have cooked that day. Divine.

After lunch we had time for a quick trip up the road to Quidi Vidi, a wee fishing village that is part of St John's proper, tucked away on a little bay the other side of Signal Hill.

Back at the B&B, I think it may be time for my mid-day nap. We are going to see Buck 65 tonight at Club 21, so I should rest up!

St John's - Fifth Night

Another late working night for the men, so I aimed to be at the Professor's for eight-thirty. It was full dark by eight-thirty, and though the road to the Battery is reasonably well-lit and the houses are so close to the road that a cry for help would bring half a dozen people in a hearbeat, signs like the one above make me very nervous. Especially when walking the short stretch of cliff road where the only way through is either straight ahead or over the rail into the sea. I can imagine that in a thick fog, there is a definite otherworldliness about this road to nowhere...

But on to more important subjects: dinner.

What could possibly top last night's halibut, is a question that I'm sure has been on your mind all day. The answer is - moose.



The Professor cooked it bourgignon-style in a slow oven all afternoon, and we ate it with roasted new potatoes, asparagus and incredible bread from a local baker. Meltingly good.



Here is the dog who lives with the Professor and the Musician. Her name is Kitty, and she is a very sweet girl. She likes to help clean the dishes after the meal...and does a wonderful job!

St John's - Day Five

Today the sun came out, and it was glorious!

I had been saving my first walk up Signal Hill for a sunny day, and so today was the day! Let me tell you, it is quite a hike! I'm told there is a trail off the Outer Battery Road, but I was a bit nervous about getting lost, so I took the Signal Hill road up the hill.

This is Signal Hill from the bottom:



It was clear from the amount of cars that passed me on the way up - and from the number of other walkers I saw - that the idea of Signal Hill on a clear and warm day was appealing to many people! The walk was brutal, but when I reached the top....what a sight.

The view sort of sneaks up on you - you stagger up the last stretch of steep roadway, panting, and see a low stone wall ahead of you. "That looks good to sit on," you think. As you step closer, the grade of the hill levels out and you can suddenly see over the wall - the sea.



It was heartbreakingly lovely. I am glad I was alone to see it for the first time. An unforgettable experience. Blue and beautiful, it fills your vision...and all you've been learning and hearing about the history of this place - the ships and armies of the British and the French, the generations of fisherman, whalers and sealers, the follies of men and politicians - not to mention the simple and immediate power of the water, the wind, and the weather....all this runs through your mind as you stand looking out to sea as hundreds of people have done for hundreds of years before you stood on this spot.



Perhaps I'm projecting, having heard so much on the subject over the last few days - and I hope it's not presumptuous to write about it, being from "away", but it seemed to me, as I stood there, that behind the sound of the waves and the wind, there is a lament, keening like the cry of the guillemot, a lament for the cod, and all that was lost with it.

St John's - Fourth Night

Tonight everyone worked late, so I wandered over to the house around eight o'clock with my groceries. I hadn't been to the Outer Battery on my own yet, nor in twilight. The light was lovely, and the sky was my favourite shade of blue, deepening slowly to darkness. It's warmer tonight, just warm enough to smell the sea, and the sound of snowmelt rushing down the cliffs fills the night.



The Professor had a line on some halibut for dinner, and pulled the fish out of the fridge to oohs and ahs of appreciation from the rest of us. It was quite the most enormous piece of fish I have ever seen.



The Italian was in charge of fish prep. He poked slivers of garlic and ginger into the flesh, before dredging it in more garlic and ginger, as well as shallots, parsley, thyme, salt, pepper and Marsala wine. Then he massaged it.



Here he is, ready to pop his masterpiece in the oven:



And here are the three collaborators enjoying a well-earned pre-dinner drink:



My Man was on risotto detail, so we had a delicious saffrony pseudo-milanese risotto, with a few mussels steamed open on top at the last minute.



My contribution was a herb salad with shallots and pears in a lemony vinaigrette. But I forgot to take a picture of it! Suffice to say, it was all very good to eat!

St John's - Day Four

Last week I'd noticed on the fence of the Anglican Cathedral of St John's that there were free organ concerts on Wednesdays from 1:15 to 1:45, so today that's what I did. But not alone! An old friend of my Man's lives here (let's call her the Potter), so she and I hooked up outside the church at one o'clock and went to hear the concert.



It was great! The church is beautiful and has the most gorgeous stained glass windows. The organ is a Great Casavant and sounds divine, and the organist was accompanied by a local soprano who sang Panis Angelicus and Pie Jesu. The whole experience was one of those unexpected and slightly secret delights that can make a holiday so memorable.



After lunch we walked over to The Sprout, a local vegetarian place which was a nice combination of Earth Mother and kitsch. The food was plentiful and very good and so was the conversation. The Potter was doing some family genealogy research up at The Rooms that afternoon, so she kindly dropped me at the Sobey's so I could do a little grocery shopping for our dinner tonight.

Walking back from Sobey's, laden with groceries and clinking with booze, I found myself cursing for the umpteenth time the piles of impacted snow and ice that still cover the sidewalks. For some reason which no one can explain, the city does not clear the sidewalks - and there is no legislation for homeowners to clear their walks either. As a result, you end up walking in the road - which can be hazardous, to say the least!

There seems to be no legislation about dog poop either, unfortunately....

St John's - Third Night

The Professor and the Musician had an engagement this evening, and the Italian wanted to work late, so we decided we'd have a late dinner and arranged to rendezvous at eight-thirty at Basho. In the meantime, my Man and I headed over to the Duke of Duckworth for a pint.



The poor old Duke seems to have fallen on hard times. The CBC Radio headquarters used to occupy a huge art deco building across the street - but has since moved out of the downtown core, taking a huge part of the Duke's revenue with it. Though the beer was good and the service was friendly, we were the only customers in the place when we left at eight-thirty.

Basho, however, was so busy that they had run out of sushi! Actually, they were short-staffed, having lost a chef unexpectedly, and so were unable to fill as many orders as usual. We ordered a variety of delicious appetizers instead - the tuna tartare, in particular, was heavenly...and the wine was delicious, too!



Our mealtime conversations are always interesting; I've enjoyed listening to the Professor talk about Newfoundland's cultural identity, Confederation, offshore oil, the fishing industry, politics, and just generally how things have changed in St John's over the years - not necessarily for the better.

So interesting the pride of place here. You can't imagine feeling as passionate about Ontario as Newfoundlanders do about their province - though, of course, to them it will never be simply "a province". But what strikes me, walking the streets of St John's, is the sense of a place whose time has passed. Everyone talks about the cod...how there is nothing without the cod - and I try to imagine these hilly streets crowded with sailors from all over the world instead of with tourists, and I think what a crime it is that it should have come to this.

ODE TO NEWFOUNDLAND

When sun rays crown thy pine clad hills,
And summer spreads her hand,
When silvern voices tune thy rills,
We love thee, smiling land.

REFRAIN:
We love thee, we love thee,
We love thee, smiling land.

When spreads thy cloak of shimm'ring white,
At Winter's stern command,
Thro' shortened day and starlit night,
We love thee, frozen land,

REFRAIN:
We love thee, we love thee,
We love thee, frozen land.

When blinding storm gusts fret thy shore,
And wild waves lash thy strand,
Thro' sprindrift swirl and tempest roar,
We love thee, wind-swept land,

REFRAIN:
We love thee, we love thee,
We love thee, wind-swept land.

As loved our fathers, so we love,
Where once they stood, we stand;
Their prayer we raise to Heaven above,
God guard thee, Newfoundland

REFRAIN:
God guard thee, God guard thee,
God guard thee, Newfoundland

Words by: Charles Cavendish Boyle
Music by: C. Hubert H. Parry
In use: 1907-1949 (as provincial song since 1980)