tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79144070782759889922024-03-12T23:31:11.445-04:00Food, drink - and travels with a guy and his guitarWhere we go, and what we eat and drink when we get therewot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-57933963531882842602011-05-22T12:02:00.004-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.295-04:00NYC Pilgrimage - the return tripThis is where things get a little crazy.<div><br /></div><div>The next morning, Peter picks us up at our hotel for the homeward journey. </div><div><br /></div><div>We drove back to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/<iframe%20width=%22425%22%20height=%22350%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20scrolling=%22no%22%20marginheight=%220%22%20marginwidth=%220%22%20src=%22http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&q=Totowa,+Passaic,+New+Jersey,+United+States&aq=&sll=45.320289,-75.726013&sspn=0.224748,0.386581&gl=ca&ie=UTF8&geocode=FYspcAIdtKWT-w&split=0&hq=&hnear=Totowa,+Passaic,+New+Jersey,+United+States&ll=40.905099,-74.209868&spn=0.241772,0.386581&z=12&output=embed%22></iframe><br%20/><small><a%20href=%22http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=q&source=embed&hl=en&q=Totowa,+Passaic,+New+Jersey,+United+States&aq=&sll=45.320289,-75.726013&sspn=0.224748,0.386581&gl=ca&ie=UTF8&geocode=FYspcAIdtKWT-w&split=0&hq=&hnear=Totowa,+Passaic,+New+Jersey,+United+States&ll=40.905099,-74.209868&spn=0.241772,0.386581&z=12%22%20style=%22color:#0000FF;text-align:left%22>View%20Larger%20Map</a></small>">Totowa</a> and retrieved the trailer and set the GPS for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marlboro,_New_York">Marlboro</a>. Seems like a pretty little town, not far from the Hudson - quiet - nice. We drive down a leafy lane into a valley...and before is is the <a href="http://maps.google.ca/maps?q=ROUTE+9W+NORTH+MARLBORO,+NY+12542&hl=en&sll=41.604656,-73.972722&sspn=0.060718,0.032306&ie=UTF8&view=map&f=d&daddr=Rte+9w,+Marlboro,+NY+12542,+USA&geocode=CeWVCKlDVK0kFTDWegIdDkSX-w&ll=41.621346,-73.957075&spn=0.007467,0.012081&t=h&z=17">most incredible scene</a>. I cannot believe I didn't capture this on film myself - it was...apocalyptic. An ocean of wrecked cars spread out over the floor of the valley. </div><div><br /></div><div>Welcome to Copart Salvage Auto Auctions. </div><div><br /></div><div>Forklifts zip around like bumper cars, shuttling wrecked cars and trucks onto the backs of flatbed trucks, into eighteen-wheelers, onto dump trucks. The place is a hive of activity. Peter goes inside the office to process his paperwork.</div><div><br /></div><div>When he emerges, we discover that there is not just one vehicle to be taken back to Toronto, but two.</div>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-27394594187458589992009-05-03T11:27:00.002-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.391-04:00The NYC Seeger Pilgrimage continues......and what an adventure it was. <div><br /></div><div>Why did it take me so long to write about it, you ask? Well, I've been busy. Two years of busy, you say? Yes, damn it. Do you want to know about the trip or not?</div><div><br /></div><div>So, Peter dropped us at <a href="http://www.redroof.com/reservations/property-detail.aspx?pid=605">our hotel</a> and we settled in. Small room - pretty much as expected.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg9eVkfFP5U4IwAQF1-Ew0xEuKie329NgksIfSedrnEhGd82IeOu_6_vfm-0cNjQ2tR9OSHpAhbC2anAGPWAnsWcwljHCJWgiv6J3bOgvMZ9qyIGLIt461BjzdKsdRDUnbEwaa2PW43Lk/s1600/DSCF2607.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg9eVkfFP5U4IwAQF1-Ew0xEuKie329NgksIfSedrnEhGd82IeOu_6_vfm-0cNjQ2tR9OSHpAhbC2anAGPWAnsWcwljHCJWgiv6J3bOgvMZ9qyIGLIt461BjzdKsdRDUnbEwaa2PW43Lk/s320/DSCF2607.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609565284318646802" /></a><div><br /></div><div>First order of business: dinner. All that footling around with the darn trailer had made us late - we were ravenous. We wandered over to 8th Avenue and found ourselves at the <a href="http://www.thebrazilgrill.com/">Brazil Grill</a>. Within minutes we were enjoying Capirinhas and Picanha Na Chapa. Yum.</div><div><br /></div><div>After dinner we wandered.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day we wandered some more. In fact, we wandered so much that we practically crippled ourselves. But oh, we had fun.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqBcqg4lKhFxjQ9nwxKiboqPB2JJPJCbKcUiotXQ47Ea2CIA4FQ0Wbo0R3GvXS1ho7Pal7pDx9z5IBqfSET_yxT_raL0zfo1q8frAe6jc5XcFpdyCVxwcVM5wn9ta1Zc15LNgTiSw0ow/s1600/DSCF2633.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqBcqg4lKhFxjQ9nwxKiboqPB2JJPJCbKcUiotXQ47Ea2CIA4FQ0Wbo0R3GvXS1ho7Pal7pDx9z5IBqfSET_yxT_raL0zfo1q8frAe6jc5XcFpdyCVxwcVM5wn9ta1Zc15LNgTiSw0ow/s320/DSCF2633.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609566947534838418" /></a><br /></div><div>Washington Square Squirrel!</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5qpo2XCqQKlRbH0FE0k96aBc6Mnh6EmZsJ45fw9ugdUhJxqgEnr6BIJ6dLlvL723TjKOsfDjyL3_q4RYWccN4rketB_mjS3WvWp4QXIWxBOwZRpBrZBVaTMLjOa9N3p-mV5GSnUwdLY/s1600/DSCF2631.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5qpo2XCqQKlRbH0FE0k96aBc6Mnh6EmZsJ45fw9ugdUhJxqgEnr6BIJ6dLlvL723TjKOsfDjyL3_q4RYWccN4rketB_mjS3WvWp4QXIWxBOwZRpBrZBVaTMLjOa9N3p-mV5GSnUwdLY/s320/DSCF2631.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609567333411995842" /></a><br /></div><div>Wisteria!</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOFTEst1AjyyN7wC48zhhIrPsJuygQX-EAPclB5y2ssq29BfWxjkTv5eU90o0DAcmNI2_P3yH5Teq5nqcIk8DLPECAfOih2denPCQ_accXURZXk1O9O0pzydKP4q_SASUiZMk5pSR-3w/s1600/DSCF2643.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOFTEst1AjyyN7wC48zhhIrPsJuygQX-EAPclB5y2ssq29BfWxjkTv5eU90o0DAcmNI2_P3yH5Teq5nqcIk8DLPECAfOih2denPCQ_accXURZXk1O9O0pzydKP4q_SASUiZMk5pSR-3w/s320/DSCF2643.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609567328085568066" /></a><br /></div><div>Battery Park hoarding</div><div><br /></div><div>That night was the show. People talk about New York City being a village, and I'd always kind of bought into that idea an a hippy-dippy kind of way...but, man. That night, that show - Madison Square Garden was someone's backyard and we were all there sitting around the campfire singing along. I've never felt so welcome and so much a part of a big crowd - like we were all old friends. And I swear, I cried through the entire show (me and everyone else in the room). You can order a gorgeous DVD of the show from the good folks at Clearwater <a href="http://seeger90dvd.myshopify.com/products/pete-seegers-90th-birthday-celebration-2-disc-dvd">here</a>. It's totally worth the $35. Unforgettable night.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpghCF650g0t1DSCItPA50wZ-MrjxxQHvfD1NG0UjgocmXYrMxrTUetUNMSb225i_vs_xoh_Htu3Z65tErrwYMm0t7lck1M89rgt4M92KUQHyBjsSUA6gGNIWaAROtVyRgqEI9GNFHdc/s1600/DSCF2664.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpghCF650g0t1DSCItPA50wZ-MrjxxQHvfD1NG0UjgocmXYrMxrTUetUNMSb225i_vs_xoh_Htu3Z65tErrwYMm0t7lck1M89rgt4M92KUQHyBjsSUA6gGNIWaAROtVyRgqEI9GNFHdc/s320/DSCF2664.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609568637926901890" /></a><br /><br /></div><div>Of course, after the show we were hungry. Footsore, emotionally exhausted and HUNGRY.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, there was a Korean Grill House across the street from our hotel.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIukpAcigSOsuqJpmc7pkN_t2Kmr2_4s3qm9c2RTtAoRlYWmAydxaLCbJlLI8jj6B46OlkTXi__9axMyvceFS8IH_iDiatt_LpWyHxxTWk09zN6NdpbaqM3e8GqbVG8NtE4uCsPk5ad9w/s1600/DSCF2674.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIukpAcigSOsuqJpmc7pkN_t2Kmr2_4s3qm9c2RTtAoRlYWmAydxaLCbJlLI8jj6B46OlkTXi__9axMyvceFS8IH_iDiatt_LpWyHxxTWk09zN6NdpbaqM3e8GqbVG8NtE4uCsPk5ad9w/s320/DSCF2674.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609569454343230210" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDfwfRmM1aRw3xrYzTGaP2K3GZYyxiIsDhgtYKyxUgWmG4X2K-pWC-ubszlnBxglPYE78qT-ve0xh7Hriq6sqd4UxzaTkrRU30mfVzPgmfRLHT7AckAgiBTFlBKPxd41gRhzR3e7mFac/s1600/DSCF2672.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDfwfRmM1aRw3xrYzTGaP2K3GZYyxiIsDhgtYKyxUgWmG4X2K-pWC-ubszlnBxglPYE78qT-ve0xh7Hriq6sqd4UxzaTkrRU30mfVzPgmfRLHT7AckAgiBTFlBKPxd41gRhzR3e7mFac/s320/DSCF2672.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609569450375087426" /></a><br /></div>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-18753820457680576392009-05-01T21:21:00.002-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.424-04:00New York City - without the Guitar!<a href="http://www.seeger90.com/">Pete</a> was turning 90. As soon as I heard, I knew we had to go to New York.<div><br /></div><div>We bought our tickets, booked a hotel and hitched a ride to NYC with <a href="http://brothersgrimmandgorey.blogspot.com">our friend Peter</a>, who was heading down for the <a href="http://www.bikenewyork.org/rides/fbbt/index.html">5 Borough Bike T0ur </a>and <a href="http://times-up.org/index.php?page=moonlight-ride-manhattan">Central Park Moonlight Ride.</a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We'd never travelled with Peter, so when he showed up on Friday morning, and buzzed that he was downstairs, we weren't quite sure what to expect in terms of a vehicle. We trundled downstairs with our luggage (1 suitcase, 1 laptop, 1 camera bag, 1 cooler bag with ice packs in case of emergency artisinal cheese or charcuterie purchases) and found Peter standing in front of an enormous navy blue <a href="http://www.allpar.com/model/ram/2009-ram.html">Dodge Ram pickup truck</a>, to which was attached a two-wheeled trailer - the kind of thing you'd tow a small car with. In the back of the pickup were two of Peter's bicycles. We stowed our gear in the back seat, my Man hopped in the front and I hopped in the back - and we were off!</div><div><br /></div><div>Turns out the trailer was for a car that Peter needed to pick up in Marlboro, NY and transport back to a garage in Niagara Falls, on the US side. See, Peter's company <a href="http://www.ehow.com/how_2175749_convert-vehicle-propane.html">converts vehicles that run on gasoline to run on propane</a> - and the vehicle we would be transporting was a test vehicle that they didn't have the papers to bring back across the border yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>In any case, we didn't have to worry about any of this until we were heading home again, so we settled down for the drive. We'd decided to head out via the Thousand Islands Bridge, circling back through Niagara on the way home.</div><div><br /></div><div>Crossing through the Thousand Islands meant we'd be passing through Kingston - just in time for a take-out lunch at our favourite Kingston food haunt, <a href="http://panchancho.com/">Pan Chancho</a>. We picked up a few sandwiches (chicken-avocado for me, smoked turkey for Peter, roast beef for Jowi) and a little tub of mackerel pate for starters. </div><div><br /></div><div>A couple of coffees from Coffee & Company and we were back on the road.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1TxLS09tGsDQR-yurgmoUr1Ft-RENk19AfmkKNXNsW-FIHRZtBWj-vXadGCJNvWrAKgv5082-MnkzhQ4FvH3NF5FlcCptfH4sHAS-Xbscaw3S2wCo3Xd2hFuNj-Hk2PycWn7dOv63Ug/s320/IMG_0007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334744482177610066" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We had a fairly uneventful trip down, but needed to find a place to dump the trailer before hitting the City. (There was no way Peter would be able to find parking in Manhattan for the enormous truck AND the enormous trailer.) We pulled off the interstate in Totowa, NY and inquired first at <a href="http://www.robbiesmusiccity.com/">Ronnie's Music City</a>. Ronnie was worried about the insurance ramifications, so we kept looking. Just over the bridge, beside the Gold's Gym, we found a little auto body shop, and the extremely amiable gentlemen on duty had none of Ronnie's qualms, so we unhitched our millstone and headed on to New York! </div><div><br /></div><div>It had been overcast for much of our drive, and by the time we hit New York it was drizzling. Traffic was heavy by the Lincoln Tunnel, but the view of the skyline was magical.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGA8vQI2a65qOB_9Jf8Muh7I4SqNIE3DeUNEuuSKUiI-9ax74_YCoOVA10NUWyVEfRoiAVlc8pFKeqTwf0t78Tl0JxRi7aPywHYhbY-Wa35zBNCSKrZbARcLIeSWhBDAxPB7eL3eRDHk/s1600-h/DSCF2691.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGA8vQI2a65qOB_9Jf8Muh7I4SqNIE3DeUNEuuSKUiI-9ax74_YCoOVA10NUWyVEfRoiAVlc8pFKeqTwf0t78Tl0JxRi7aPywHYhbY-Wa35zBNCSKrZbARcLIeSWhBDAxPB7eL3eRDHk/s320/DSCF2691.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334749164739212994" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px; " /></a><br /></div>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-16921648869659691322008-10-25T21:13:00.004-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.471-04:00OCFF Conference<font face="arial">We're back in Ottawa once again, this time for the annual Ontario Council of Folk Festivals <a href="http://www.ocff.ca/">conference</a>. My Man drove up on Thursday and I followed him up by <a href="http://www.viarail.ca/">train</a> on Friday afternoon.<br /><br />The conference is good fun, and there are lots of networking and promotional opportunities for artists from across the country - and since between my Man's work on the board of the OCFF and the fact that we've taken the guitar to almost all of Canada's folk festivals over the last three years, there are lots of folks we know here too.<br /><br />My Man ran a panel this morning called <font style="font-style: italic;">My Roots, My Influences</font>, featuring <a href="http://www.lynnmilesmusic.com/">Lynn Miles</a>, <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=94160406">Kyrie Kristmanson</a> and <a href="http://www.elijahwald.com/">Elijah Wald</a>, and last night took the guitar to a great "guerilla" showcase hosted by the delightful <a href="http://www.blairpackham.com/">Blair Packham</a>.<br /><br />Tonight we had the evening to ourselves, and visited a new restaurant on Murray Street, right across from the <a href="http://wotlarx.blogspot.com/2008/06/ottawa-dragonboat-race-festival.html">Murray Street Kitchen</a>, called <a href="http://www.navarrarestaurant.com/">Navarra</a>. It was a remarkable experience, and one of the finest meals we've had in some time.<br /><br />We had not made a reservation, but fortunately two of the four seats at the bar were available, overlooking the front part of the kitchen where the final plating is done - so we had the best seats in the house!<br /><br />We perused the menu over a glass of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparkling_wine">Cava</a>. It was an incredibly difficult decision! The menu consisted of the chef's artist statement, a selection of eight appetizers and then eight mains, followed by a half dozen dessert/cheese options.<br /><br />My man chose to start with the foie gras over chocolate. I went with a dish I can never resist - the beef tartare. Both were wonderful. The tartare was served with a "leathered" prosciutto dusted with pistachio and crostini - heavenly.<br /><br />Both composition and presentation were exquisite, and our server, Sarah, was well versed in both the ingredients and the wine list. Speaking of wine, we had a very juicy and full-bodied <a href="http://www.cellartracker.com/wine.asp?iWine=175484">Jumilla</a> that was utterly delightful.<br /><br />For our mains, I chose the halibut, which was served over roasted mushrooms and Serrano ham on a bed of butternut silk, and my man went with the pork belly. Once again the meals were beautifully composed, the portions were perfect, and the food was cooked to perfection and presented like a work of art.<br /><br /><br /></font>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-29710011121651203902008-08-20T21:53:00.002-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.529-04:00Ottawa Folk FestivalHere we are in Ottawa once again, this time for the 15th annual <a href="http://www.ottawafolk.org/">Ottawa Folk Festival</a>. There are some big names on the mainstage this year (Broken Social Scene, Sarah Harmer, Rufus Wainwright), but I expect that, as always, it's the bands you discover over the course of the weekend workshops that really make the festival special.<br /><br />My man and the Francophone drove out ahead of us on Wednesday evening in order to make a couple of public presentations at the Museum of Civilization on Thursday and Friday, so the Photographer and I flew out together Friday evening - on <a href="http://www.flyporter.com/">Porter Airlines</a>! My first flight from the island airport - I was so excited to be able to walk there from work. Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised to see protesters just outside the terminal building - but the airport is so much a part of my everyday life that I forget there are folks who still object to it. I can see it from our office window, and I don't find the noise of the jet engines any more or less noticeable than the streetcars that rattle along Queens Quay day all day long. And the planes are so beautiful - elegant and sleek, their flight fascinates me in the same way it did when I was small - there is something so splendid about seeing them that close, whooshing across your line of vision.<br /><br />Sadly, my first Porter flight was not as smooth as it could have been. Bad weather wherever our plane flew in from, combined with bad weather here in Toronto, meant our 7pm flight didn't leave until 8pm. And once we'd boarded, there was a further half an hour delay with a checked bag missing a passenger. But at last we were up in the air! A glass of wine and a boxed snack later, we were in Ottawa. Fantastic!<br /><br />Euan from the Festival office was on hand to pick us up, and we grabbed our bags and hit the road - it's a half our drive to the hotel. Five minutes down the highway, Euan's cell phone rang to ask if we could go back to the airport and pick up one more passenger - so back we went. Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the car with our addition - Dallas Good of the Sadies, fresh from the Havelock County Jamboree.<br /><br />We arrived at the festival hotel, the <a href="http://www.brookstreethotel.com/">Brookstreet</a>, in Kanata, by 11pm, and found my Man and the Francophone drinking wine in our room. We shared couple of glasses and a Caesar salad from room service, and then off to bed.<br /><br />Saturday morning we met at 8am for breakfast in the hotel's <a href="http://http//www.brookstreethotel.com/dining/index.htm">restaurant</a> before heading over to the festival site at Britannia Park. The boys all had the enormous but delicious-looking breakfast buffet - but I had the Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon - and I'm glad I did! They were perfect, and there was no way I could have done justice to the buffet.<br /><br />Arriving at the site, we discovered the organizers had put us in the Dance Tent - a huge big-top style tent with a full stage and elaborate lighting rig, in front of which was laid an enormous sprung plywood dance floor. As you'd guess, the music programmed in this tent was chosen with dancing in mind - everything from Cajun to bluegrass to samba, rock and country. Some of these choices were less successful than others, but it was a brilliant idea, and the audience seemed to love it - especially the children.<br /><br />Because we had the Francophone with us, my help wasn't required to run the photo booth (it's a three man job), so I was free to watch the bands performing in the tent, and to wander the site and catch some of the music being made elsewhere. Musical highlights of the weekend - for me - were Donna the Buffalo, and a fantastic workshop with members of D-Rangers, Wil and Lonesome Paul. Lyn Miles was also wonderful - as usual.<br /><br />Knowing we had a long day ahead of us on Sunday, we opted to eat in the hotel that evening. My man had been raving about a wonderful appetizer he'd had the night they arrived, and so we checked out the restaurant menu before heading upstairs to shower and change. The most intriguing option was the prix fixe menu, comprised of four courses for $50 - except between 8pm and 9pm, when you could choose three of the four courses for only $30. Sign us up! We convened in the lobby at 8:30pm and were sipping aperitifs by 8:45pm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBh5durYc-3QtjDT02LdO61NfFaFhU9cL8k_PvV-qz2KuD3c0itkPpnikVcNbRQlD7dXP4kTTa7I8K3LtyDJn2f8h2mbGjMp1lfbuQC4bFxwhdugUXenJOom9R7AOSVikNEqKabbtnug/s1600-h/Brookstreet1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBh5durYc-3QtjDT02LdO61NfFaFhU9cL8k_PvV-qz2KuD3c0itkPpnikVcNbRQlD7dXP4kTTa7I8K3LtyDJn2f8h2mbGjMp1lfbuQC4bFxwhdugUXenJOom9R7AOSVikNEqKabbtnug/s320/Brookstreet1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244200330499384802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We all started with a cocktail: Pernod for my Man and the Photographer, a dry gin martini with extra olives for the Francophone and I.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdIGgaiosq41DHfRGOWuHnoX8oxY6QzyI8mNogpVvy0cSCfa_Y9LX3-n8f7FPssj2vnjgi56LM_D82BTz0RT-Xb5627XM_x6pBAPptRiC-_hBkw9oY-4uonxBxCCpLc6MmauctEnhs_E/s1600-h/Brookstreet2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGdIGgaiosq41DHfRGOWuHnoX8oxY6QzyI8mNogpVvy0cSCfa_Y9LX3-n8f7FPssj2vnjgi56LM_D82BTz0RT-Xb5627XM_x6pBAPptRiC-_hBkw9oY-4uonxBxCCpLc6MmauctEnhs_E/s320/Brookstreet2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244200333126695266" border="0" /></a><br /><br />All of us ended up choosing exactly the same options from the menu: a tartlet of pulled pork and chanterelle mushrooms to start, followed by "foie gras3"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vK0b3CfboeapUC-Pp0vrvsBwbnr3PhCQ1EfdwOHgE-h2a6duk23HzEkfw8cAZ4xWbBdSZEGCCMZFb-qJeGiP7jzzK9kj6fv4frHCFz-Es0WbplFp3LhrHMDWebqqQp7YGMQr7MN0oPw/s1600-h/Brookstreet4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8vK0b3CfboeapUC-Pp0vrvsBwbnr3PhCQ1EfdwOHgE-h2a6duk23HzEkfw8cAZ4xWbBdSZEGCCMZFb-qJeGiP7jzzK9kj6fv4frHCFz-Es0WbplFp3LhrHMDWebqqQp7YGMQr7MN0oPw/s320/Brookstreet4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244200339271311666" border="0" /></a><br />foie gras sorbet, foie gras foamed and layered in a shot glass, and foie gras in rounds over toast.<br /><br />Wild boar was the main.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipI6axgyaeCXzk1Af_j_P2O5Yh6OQQAvvNkAE_OxTu6lHxGACXpkvaDvoANoVTsQJTt7cWySGE8aG_fvjQse3I8Kv1uNaafM8wDvS33g2ZvFK8rxcEsVSYR5zMX8rRmszsCyzbvZuC6dg/s1600-h/Brookstreet5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipI6axgyaeCXzk1Af_j_P2O5Yh6OQQAvvNkAE_OxTu6lHxGACXpkvaDvoANoVTsQJTt7cWySGE8aG_fvjQse3I8Kv1uNaafM8wDvS33g2ZvFK8rxcEsVSYR5zMX8rRmszsCyzbvZuC6dg/s320/Brookstreet5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244200337647616978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Aside from the boar, which was ever so slightly overdone and didn't really taste "boar-y", the foood was some of the most entertaining, creative and delicious I've had in ages. I should also mention the wine list, which was extensive and exciting - and clearly visible, in the form of five enormous, softly-lit and climate-controlled glass displays forming a pillar - and focal point - in the centre of the restaurant. The service was attentive and professional, and the wait staff were very knowledgeable and eager to talk about the food and drink they were serving. All in all, a very successful evening! And how nice not to have to drive home, but to simply be able to roll oneself gently in the direction of the elevator and bed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZ-XARwBgTIA7I6JCtu5LWp79q10smfy9Lqa0QP3dLRUIFfRSxtFLz7eA-g4mTSj40RwrxSc-lLau1AwPkhFup9j8tDviy2-KGF7_wXzTNwlOyxCh0DsRYRvhby-Y9W_0NCeYJtkCP9Y/s1600-h/Brookstreet6.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGZ-XARwBgTIA7I6JCtu5LWp79q10smfy9Lqa0QP3dLRUIFfRSxtFLz7eA-g4mTSj40RwrxSc-lLau1AwPkhFup9j8tDviy2-KGF7_wXzTNwlOyxCh0DsRYRvhby-Y9W_0NCeYJtkCP9Y/s320/Brookstreet6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244200342691834402" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUldipnbWtq50JWvNdf4qrEB6YaxhoRuzURtreI1XRG9KYoqN-gm3RncQexa2mwIiB75Tp4Pt8xGrk7jienZ7NSFAToxtW4xRmOud2WzNDSYN7sz0W9taNSB5qhbHa0nSsMeoReDVdAg/s1600-h/Brookstreet8.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUldipnbWtq50JWvNdf4qrEB6YaxhoRuzURtreI1XRG9KYoqN-gm3RncQexa2mwIiB75Tp4Pt8xGrk7jienZ7NSFAToxtW4xRmOud2WzNDSYN7sz0W9taNSB5qhbHa0nSsMeoReDVdAg/s320/Brookstreet8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244202997099931154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWqpbx4wxeDYzjc8JLzfqENxEJMkpLUt6RlJ_OHddfd8iXSxfhbJZgI2TolRzOU1-EGFJIs_vvwTK2J-BiSk_dbv5RoprHH-5ocB11tjGlLvdpIjDuQkrCXPeOKvoN5wceosBF5UK5UY/s1600-h/Brookstreet7.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWqpbx4wxeDYzjc8JLzfqENxEJMkpLUt6RlJ_OHddfd8iXSxfhbJZgI2TolRzOU1-EGFJIs_vvwTK2J-BiSk_dbv5RoprHH-5ocB11tjGlLvdpIjDuQkrCXPeOKvoN5wceosBF5UK5UY/s320/Brookstreet7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244202997865296914" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdv588471rke29HDAtYdbsDER65K1390weCzhJDAUQP8LV8clt_ZfarAE_aDKxc6R9alj2zOIg-5iAvz9BLG33yAMZFKcjjSUxVEaIDl_pv0H97RoRSLCl5jybBOFJqouwEPxgjBzQ_8/s1600-h/Brookstreet9.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvdv588471rke29HDAtYdbsDER65K1390weCzhJDAUQP8LV8clt_ZfarAE_aDKxc6R9alj2zOIg-5iAvz9BLG33yAMZFKcjjSUxVEaIDl_pv0H97RoRSLCl5jybBOFJqouwEPxgjBzQ_8/s320/Brookstreet9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244203004381564002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Happy and replete!<br /><br />Sunday was a scorcher. The tent was stuffy and close by midday, but outside the breeze blew cool from the river, and enormous willows provided welcome shade. Close friends who live in Ottawa came by to visit with their adorable offspring, and we spent a very pleasant afternoon lying in the shade and catching up.<br /><br />I haven't yet mentioned the festival hospitality because frankly it was not a highlight. Some festivals put a lot of thought and effort into providing varied and healthy backstage hospitality and green room space (Calgary springs to mind immediately), but Ottawa seemed to struggle a bit with its food and drink (I'd imagine it's often a budget issue), and provided mainly variations on the theme of burgers, fries and corn over the two days. All prepared and served by their incredibly pleasant and friendly volunteers, of course!<br /><br />By the end of the day we were all spent, and only had energy enough for a light meal in the hotel bar. The Photographer and I had the fish and chips (disappointing chips but absolutely exquisite fish), the Francophone had a spinach and goat cheese pizza, and my Man (who felt a cold coming on) had the Thai soup. All accompanied by more of the hotel's delicious wine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp2ze5zxHC_64tGAcl6vAgHPZHhWoLh6ALA08yKsZ_6h_nkOMCOO5nc_7Ve2aBTlDCjc55M1iLjb5KjrL_IN1ohL7oUnkfGmd_DE6DP2Hrk57nHuMexRKn-8I6DchCcyRRWyZd9Hy8Cs/s1600-h/Brookstreet11.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp2ze5zxHC_64tGAcl6vAgHPZHhWoLh6ALA08yKsZ_6h_nkOMCOO5nc_7Ve2aBTlDCjc55M1iLjb5KjrL_IN1ohL7oUnkfGmd_DE6DP2Hrk57nHuMexRKn-8I6DchCcyRRWyZd9Hy8Cs/s320/Brookstreet11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244203010352303650" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My Man and I had a dish of their beautiful sorbet "to go" and took it back up to our room to enjoy in bed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwW0n1gSSazdtHnW0sPRPGKYXdre-cPMLXND4chrvQ-6sz49GDvhNHyhd9pBp8cbNu0kOmlSAvRX1xzzbPm_A4nbClBhPgZ9DXyr5CGF_nMDtvt-eMN_QXKbVFtZ1TrLQB0X1ok46MNRU/s1600-h/Brookstreet12.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwW0n1gSSazdtHnW0sPRPGKYXdre-cPMLXND4chrvQ-6sz49GDvhNHyhd9pBp8cbNu0kOmlSAvRX1xzzbPm_A4nbClBhPgZ9DXyr5CGF_nMDtvt-eMN_QXKbVFtZ1TrLQB0X1ok46MNRU/s320/Brookstreet12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244203009837045586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Monday we headed home - with the obligatory stop at <a href="http://www.panchancho.com/">Pan Chancho</a> in Kingston for pate de campagne, Quebec cheese, take-out sandwiches, and something new - a frozen Tunisian lamb pie. It is still in our freezer, waiting to be consumed…wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-36044380561870824522008-06-20T09:54:00.003-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.567-04:00Ottawa Dragonboat Race Festival: Day One<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-fYqrppkLLYAxQOcQtKFHloFEnN4i380OL7U0bbkzdeMT5Oe0kGghFUwoPc0hCVnhDETZmU2Aog949ecCkRd2ZWjRsXYK5FNGj3R79KlHetHpjI2PdzufEgR2HLGmvR_9ACqJ-d0lR8/s1600-h/DSCF0966.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-fYqrppkLLYAxQOcQtKFHloFEnN4i380OL7U0bbkzdeMT5Oe0kGghFUwoPc0hCVnhDETZmU2Aog949ecCkRd2ZWjRsXYK5FNGj3R79KlHetHpjI2PdzufEgR2HLGmvR_9ACqJ-d0lR8/s320/DSCF0966.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219976103913913122" border="0" /></a><br />Rideau Canal<br /><br /><br />This is our 2nd year at the <a href="http://www.dragonboat.net/home.php">Ottawa Dragonboat Festival</a> - we spent a very busy weekend there last year (it's not a music festival, so we weren't sure how it would go), and they called us a couple of weeks before the festival this year, saying they'd received word that a grant they'd applied for to fund our return visit had just been approved so could we please come again? My Man was hesitant to accept, since it was my birthday weekend, but the Photographer's wife (the Designer) was free to come along and spend some time playing with me while the two of them worked the festival - so, voilà! A road trip!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNwquDqpXAveY-xl-qkV7YLP_DJEch8pAYNK4BQcc_cDy0YLcJksoPyZSihTsp9m7-RufJqtSLtiH2_RW7wxn4iqC_2sj43jbHFFvoN-HEIXjp3kWF4fjX75SeY745Z7xdhCQBTcB-bQ/s1600-h/DSCF0968.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNwquDqpXAveY-xl-qkV7YLP_DJEch8pAYNK4BQcc_cDy0YLcJksoPyZSihTsp9m7-RufJqtSLtiH2_RW7wxn4iqC_2sj43jbHFFvoN-HEIXjp3kWF4fjX75SeY745Z7xdhCQBTcB-bQ/s320/DSCF0968.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219974946576047282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We drove up Friday morning, and had reservations at a new Ottawa restaurant for dinner that night. <a href="http://www.murraystreet.ca/">Murray Street: Kitchen | Charcuterie | Wine Bar</a> (are there sweeter words in the English language than charcuterie and wine bar?) had opened its doors just that Monday, and we were looking forward to our visit very much. We were not disappointed!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZnelbmMsH9yGUVjWq2HMxhYpPIAqfz8CHFAVRtdDMiDHCcUtRNm8aCLYw4n07yvW1ocgBc9QqTtxdmdU1HBAjiYnghEgth3jVfhNkPujSuZT_egTCToQfKthih6qt0jNq-e_YTu3X2OU/s1600-h/DSCF0974.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZnelbmMsH9yGUVjWq2HMxhYpPIAqfz8CHFAVRtdDMiDHCcUtRNm8aCLYw4n07yvW1ocgBc9QqTtxdmdU1HBAjiYnghEgth3jVfhNkPujSuZT_egTCToQfKthih6qt0jNq-e_YTu3X2OU/s320/DSCF0974.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219976095298635106" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The menu was double-sided, with one side listing charcuterie and cheese, and the other side featuring the appetizers, salads and main courses. We started with a selection of meat and cheese from the charcuterie page, which came prettily arranged on a large board, accompanied by some pickles and home-made melba toast. We also ordered a wonderful cocktail of watermelon and cucumber juice with vodka. Most refreshing!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tV-f1Q1pdnGcJ-bv66sR94TrzWbAivgJ7By_c1e1qkTMOW4CA09NCFtkjaK4NGtXOe_wgCRTx6-M7MeoFVr4isQ2m3dSdy28zF1-E_tsOtj8irjT1tx0r98K5OSiNaWUNssgYhpfA1s/s1600-h/DSCF0971.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7tV-f1Q1pdnGcJ-bv66sR94TrzWbAivgJ7By_c1e1qkTMOW4CA09NCFtkjaK4NGtXOe_wgCRTx6-M7MeoFVr4isQ2m3dSdy28zF1-E_tsOtj8irjT1tx0r98K5OSiNaWUNssgYhpfA1s/s320/DSCF0971.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219976099630558850" border="0" /></a><br />The Designer and I, post-cocktail..<br /><br />We then all shared the Murray Street's interpretation of poutine, made with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sp%C3%A4tzle">spaetzle</a> instead of french fries, and topped with duck gravy and local cheese curds. The portion size was just right - not overwhelmingly large - even between the four of us, all you really wanted was just enough to get a feel for the taste of it (which was delightful - the duck gravy is a stroke of genius)!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXf1nCZ0zIdB-0w1aNUotolOPjoQ6f10uN1Z8XhQhgDk-3NEiu6pptH9qwlUp3PCd-OJW55STeU_fgiNCXGEeaz43iFdf1gwV_gqdNxR9zu6x4loRGIdp_et1CAWP6c7DG31OACOZFOU/s1600-h/DSCF0976.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXf1nCZ0zIdB-0w1aNUotolOPjoQ6f10uN1Z8XhQhgDk-3NEiu6pptH9qwlUp3PCd-OJW55STeU_fgiNCXGEeaz43iFdf1gwV_gqdNxR9zu6x4loRGIdp_et1CAWP6c7DG31OACOZFOU/s320/DSCF0976.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219977728175920786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For our mains, the Designer and my Man decided on the pork, while the Photographer and I each ordered the fish and "chip" - three kinds of fish (pickerel, halibut and tuna) served over a long, rectangular potato pancake. The tuna was slightly overdone, but otherwise the dish was delicious - again, the portion size was perfect.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzEc6zwCwTBL6IBriwBgL9TQUIjAvOohXJsaTaaX9t5tz1QsTVwWWwnR9Lhnl3lc1sLHxFHUWE16Uqp54T2tjucCfa9JE_wlMuS8iBxPwBplauO0I2MMqc1vwVJHFXw3PkwpXI8H12wc/s1600-h/DSCF0983.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzEc6zwCwTBL6IBriwBgL9TQUIjAvOohXJsaTaaX9t5tz1QsTVwWWwnR9Lhnl3lc1sLHxFHUWE16Uqp54T2tjucCfa9JE_wlMuS8iBxPwBplauO0I2MMqc1vwVJHFXw3PkwpXI8H12wc/s320/DSCF0983.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219977730384518098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For dessert, I returned to the cheese menu - a lovely wedge of 7 yr old cheddar which made the inside of my mouth go all tingly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpLMzyGcOTEVCNY6VSidQFIW4WgRQ309nBMLavcX-mQC010IlGfFa-b5lKpBB9xKzcC28fHBXsVjuK6BYY7bRN_9O20QXhT1CgslKWJAWxDs5kJnnW5dBk64hTdILhjmhNA-sMdQtQPk/s1600-h/DSCF0997.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhpLMzyGcOTEVCNY6VSidQFIW4WgRQ309nBMLavcX-mQC010IlGfFa-b5lKpBB9xKzcC28fHBXsVjuK6BYY7bRN_9O20QXhT1CgslKWJAWxDs5kJnnW5dBk64hTdILhjmhNA-sMdQtQPk/s320/DSCF0997.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219978307276846674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The others split a deconstructed lemon meringue pie - and seemed to enjoy it very much!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUHDaErPWPHhdRAh-Gj1YwG1bTtVVfvDQ__OAW0JyeQjnaLXUwVZCH6P9JrN8ucAzXHft8Txhd0Frj6591BhLGUriQEw2hZMur8lKjs-uLDPjxX2wCldBO6Sq3obW9YwQEWdfoN8n79g/s1600-h/DSCF0996.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUHDaErPWPHhdRAh-Gj1YwG1bTtVVfvDQ__OAW0JyeQjnaLXUwVZCH6P9JrN8ucAzXHft8Txhd0Frj6591BhLGUriQEw2hZMur8lKjs-uLDPjxX2wCldBO6Sq3obW9YwQEWdfoN8n79g/s320/DSCF0996.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219978313428933714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We rolled ourselves back to the hotel, which was only a short walk away, through the quiet downtown Ottawa streets. As we walked, we noticed the setups on Spark Street for Ribfest, also taking place that weekend.....more on that anon.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-30109264161455732302008-05-31T21:59:00.013-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.603-04:00Festival des guitares du monde...also known as the <a href="http://www.fgmat.com/">International Guitar Festival</a>. It's held annually in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rouyn-Noranda,_Quebec">Rouyn-Noranda</a>, northern Quebec.<br /><br />We arrived here Friday morning at around 10:30AM, after driving two hours from the cottage in Cobalt. The drive from Toronto to Rouyn-Noranda takes seven hours, so we broke our journey at the cottage on the way up, and plan to spend Sunday night there on our way home.<br /><br />This is the furthest north I've ever been (the cottage was my former record), and it's an exciting experience. Rouyn is fairly remote, and the people who live here speak only French - unlike Montreal, where most of the folks I encountered tended to be amicably bilingual. It's also interesting to see such a high ratio of Quebecois artists on the performance roster. There are a number of Big Names (Johnny Winter, America, Bruce Cockburn) but the majority of the performers present are best known within the province.<br /><br />The festival has booked us rooms at the Hotel Noranda, a surprisingly boutique-y little place connected to the convention centre where the majority of the programming is held. The menu is intriguing, particularly the room service:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8P3rcKRZJRdqPfVVmSZSQr7lytp2RH_Jz8Fuc0EhJJEu2P3_a7HlbA59qCfLb0NkfapZQCRv41PbasB5CTH3IOpv3WtHCz2_JhIomXYcUC78Xv6wHEzetPAJ28CQZAnuTB_VGH4gBic/s1600-h/DSCF0842.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8P3rcKRZJRdqPfVVmSZSQr7lytp2RH_Jz8Fuc0EhJJEu2P3_a7HlbA59qCfLb0NkfapZQCRv41PbasB5CTH3IOpv3WtHCz2_JhIomXYcUC78Xv6wHEzetPAJ28CQZAnuTB_VGH4gBic/s320/DSCF0842.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219889913984066722" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's late May, so still cool up here (plus, it's blackfly season), so the Festival is held largely indoors. We're assigned a space in the convention centre, in a room across the hall from two performance spaces, with a third upstairs, so we are in prime position to attract the attention of audiences as they arrive and depart. We have two laptops with us, and the whole building is wireless, so we use one for registration, and put the other on a little table outside our door, playing a slideshow from our <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sixstringnation/sets/">Flickr</a> page. This intrigues people - and they poke their heads into our room curiously, wondering what the fuss is about.<br /><br />Having the Francophone is in his element here - we truly couldn't manage without him, as my Man and I realize how sadly inadequate our long-ago high school French is. We keep at it, though, and by the end of the weekend my Man is able to describe many of the guitar's elements in language that people are at least pretending to understand.<br /><br />Being in Quebec with the guitar is different than being in any other province so far. The only one I can compare it to is Newfoundland - there is a similar sense of pride of place here, a fierce possessiveness - of ownership - that you certainly don't see back home. It's more than a little moving.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN91_diY81lEok-rTlsDFsClvOGYoieFPrupPdmOEgYmNEU5PXW02iq3c5-ceuhFgun41XBAZDNg_ySaZ1HhaLuK3fPKMY8uK5nUc2YjUeK1PCJEAUFOvzlWDoKJPZll-OfY66gzzcmaE/s1600-h/DSCF0875.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN91_diY81lEok-rTlsDFsClvOGYoieFPrupPdmOEgYmNEU5PXW02iq3c5-ceuhFgun41XBAZDNg_ySaZ1HhaLuK3fPKMY8uK5nUc2YjUeK1PCJEAUFOvzlWDoKJPZll-OfY66gzzcmaE/s320/DSCF0875.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219893254300497826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There are certain obvious elements of the guitar that resonate here: the seat from the Montreal forum, the Richard ring. Also the northern mining elements - silver from Cobalt and nickel from Sudbury. But the children are interested in all the stories; they crowd around the Francophone, reaching out with shy hands to stroke the guitar gently, asking questions in rapid French, and eyeing Doug with interest, as he attempts to place them against the backdrop in his own broken French.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYN5AyFQ20R-KkJgXv0eyfoOEfRw_x_wzCGJOwt3pXwAkTOWzPgFJ_x0puWGd01RKiBFYmuzYN0bwMxM6LH8hSdt56Ba3TKcfg1Vhyphenhyphen4BDVAcBphDgJfd4j7Li-Mfcxr9xYflEKLhr_AE/s1600-h/DSCF0856.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZYN5AyFQ20R-KkJgXv0eyfoOEfRw_x_wzCGJOwt3pXwAkTOWzPgFJ_x0puWGd01RKiBFYmuzYN0bwMxM6LH8hSdt56Ba3TKcfg1Vhyphenhyphen4BDVAcBphDgJfd4j7Li-Mfcxr9xYflEKLhr_AE/s320/DSCF0856.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219891886134770818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The festival director is Alain Vezina, and he runs the show seeming to subsist on nothing but on coffee and granola bars - but with the help of dozens of volunteers, many of whom are members of his family. His sisters, his son, his parents - all of them are present at the festival, dashing about in their FGMAT t-shirts helping artists, patrons, volunteers - Louise even manages to find time to source some freshly caught lake fish for us (we are on the shores of Lac Dufaut here) as well a basket of assorted local cheeses.<br /><br />This is a photo of the board of the festival, with Alain in the centre holding the guitar, and Louise to the right of him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i_-QklZykOvYW2SXkd-yi-RgDXWidCIgv2WyS-sv8MbOpI_hjnF5cizwNgk_M45mvgLPZDc-1Im5qDzm9TebDz0LKl6d3TiQVGCq80pYCpdsTgYRBBcNbNgV7gel7afHXo6RrKHeAAk/s1600-h/DSCF0885.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_i_-QklZykOvYW2SXkd-yi-RgDXWidCIgv2WyS-sv8MbOpI_hjnF5cizwNgk_M45mvgLPZDc-1Im5qDzm9TebDz0LKl6d3TiQVGCq80pYCpdsTgYRBBcNbNgV7gel7afHXo6RrKHeAAk/s320/DSCF0885.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219893806779307874" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Our assigned volunteer was formerly the principal of the town's sole English school. She knows everyone who walks in the door, and tells them all about the guitar with great enthusiasm. In spite of her claims to be computer illiterate, she soon masters our database, and helps people with the registration.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyEuHmLUzntE1Z40LP_bfAREg8mCnl_NA-rpVC6Z9DDVlN4j-fw2NnmYyHmXgZkPR7QAUnXuLjj_4l3laFRhyAZwYHxs0B_o6j4Ail-5TRRlNdO0g87sfIuwsJctdypjs_uNWz9EF1lM/s1600-h/DSCF0883.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisyEuHmLUzntE1Z40LP_bfAREg8mCnl_NA-rpVC6Z9DDVlN4j-fw2NnmYyHmXgZkPR7QAUnXuLjj_4l3laFRhyAZwYHxs0B_o6j4Ail-5TRRlNdO0g87sfIuwsJctdypjs_uNWz9EF1lM/s320/DSCF0883.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219895484025699426" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Photographer takes advantage of a lull in portrait sessions to connect with the family back home. How did we manage before the internet??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKpNtP3q5Q0Esk2Bz1tVW0gQEWd6tFJ_vxclIUfAu4YZCUIu4aHHVp5DgA021kPrUp5zpEgXVwrgOHRmtBvjtJIF6OOT3hhylg5ehIgDQBpvrEBmI7nc4bFKMyJOEKW3m8OKynfS8v5M/s1600-h/DSCF0888.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKpNtP3q5Q0Esk2Bz1tVW0gQEWd6tFJ_vxclIUfAu4YZCUIu4aHHVp5DgA021kPrUp5zpEgXVwrgOHRmtBvjtJIF6OOT3hhylg5ehIgDQBpvrEBmI7nc4bFKMyJOEKW3m8OKynfS8v5M/s320/DSCF0888.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219893810858740306" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Aside from the cheese and my ever-increasing <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cretons">cretons</a> addiction, there is not much of note on the menu in Rouyn - though we did have one spectacular breakfast at the St Honoré Boulangerie, whicih had the most gorgeous selection of breads and pastries, and where the Photographer and I each bought a very exciting-looking Tarte d'Alsace to take home with us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHtlPA2C7AVhOrP7Lf9v36GmKH0akWM8l_az6N4S0PIhMYBYphzLEqUzdK1xPQZ86RQERSKS887FMEuztIRK1kZFq9pYAlktTM5QeIqe0iF9JQFbod29nTeJGXN-O5QSj1-jkRLc5jOU/s1600-h/DSCF0847.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHtlPA2C7AVhOrP7Lf9v36GmKH0akWM8l_az6N4S0PIhMYBYphzLEqUzdK1xPQZ86RQERSKS887FMEuztIRK1kZFq9pYAlktTM5QeIqe0iF9JQFbod29nTeJGXN-O5QSj1-jkRLc5jOU/s320/DSCF0847.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219898107579397922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On our way out of town on Sunday, we stopped at the mine (the economic centre of town) to take a few photos.<br /><br />Life in a northern town.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm96gEvQW1d4rLII3rQi5jvXwJb3Gnt4Z8FAqi_hmzNc0K8OqyjxGLROrO1rpTPJAmxdaP9bK28OvCRpQbuF1rKKySiEyX4OiCSWymRBm2syCISvuQ7WKdO87whu4KOWn-sVegVG5TBI/s1600-h/IMG_0007.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm96gEvQW1d4rLII3rQi5jvXwJb3Gnt4Z8FAqi_hmzNc0K8OqyjxGLROrO1rpTPJAmxdaP9bK28OvCRpQbuF1rKKySiEyX4OiCSWymRBm2syCISvuQ7WKdO87whu4KOWn-sVegVG5TBI/s320/IMG_0007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219898630217838658" border="0" /></a>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-64569586369809326092008-05-24T20:21:00.016-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.639-04:00MontrealWe'd been attempting to find a meeting date with the folks at the head office of a major Canadian airline (which shall remain nameless until they actually GIVE us the sponsorship deal we really need, at which point I shall promote them faithfully in every post), and finally managed to set one up for the afternoon of Friday May 23. We'd also been trying to find a way to spend some time with our very good and much-missed friends the Runner and the Best Friend, who live in Ottawa with their wee one, Peter Parker (PP for short), so we decided to spend Friday night in Montreal, drive to Ottawa on Saturday to spend the night with them, and then drive back home Sunday afternoon in time to have dinner with my Man's mother. I've never visited Montreal and have spent very little time in Ottawa, so the weekend promised to be full of interest and adventure - and it was!<br /><br />Our meeting was at 2pm and the airline's head office was out by the airport, so we rose at 5:30AM in order to be out of the house by 7:00AM. Traffic was light that early in the day, and we were soon cruising sunnily eastward along the 401. We reached Montreal by noon, and navigated the maze of expressways with the aid of a <a href="http://maps.google.com/">GoogleMap</a>, reaching our destination by 12:30PM. The traffic in Montreal was heavy, and it was too risky for my Man to try to drop me off at the hotel before the meeting - we needed to find somewhere nearby we could have a snack and a coffee while we waited for 2PM to roll around. We followed the directions of the receptionist in the lobby, who told us there were a couple of restaurants a five-minute drive back the way we'd come.<br /><br />Unfortunately, these instructions were too simple for us. In four minutes were back in that same maze of expressways, completely disoriented and with no restaurants in sight. We did, however, see an IKEA! Spurred by the thought of fifty-cent hot dogs, we hit the off-ramp and navigated the warren of back-streets to the IKEA parking lot. I don't know what it is about the IKEA hot dogs...perhaps it's the Swedish mustard...they are so good!<br /><br />Thus fortified, we managed to find our way back to our starting point with very little foul language and only two panic attacks, and my Man headed in for his meeting while I napped in the parked car. The sun was warm, our rental car had a sun roof - and I'd been up since the crack of dawn. An hour and a half went by swiftly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4J9ep9kv5JweFmCx5BzE2xK6t31sSOgCgQ-qJY-qGGGs5OoKfdo93_V9ue4x8kvATyeEPMxd_lfoZ2QXUznN6NphcpX_IsvtZDCq-BmERTTT8oI22JmWv11UZ7EI93mNEkrIk7jz-rhE/s1600-h/clouds.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4J9ep9kv5JweFmCx5BzE2xK6t31sSOgCgQ-qJY-qGGGs5OoKfdo93_V9ue4x8kvATyeEPMxd_lfoZ2QXUznN6NphcpX_IsvtZDCq-BmERTTT8oI22JmWv11UZ7EI93mNEkrIk7jz-rhE/s320/clouds.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205225588199208722" border="0" /></a><br /><br />By 3:30PM my Man was out of his meeting and back in the car. The meeting was profitable - though not quite as profitable as we had hoped it would be - and he'd been promised a message outlining the actual support he would be offered the following week. Nothing to do but wait and see. It was a sunny afternoon and we were in Montreal - time to forget about work and have some fun!<br /><br />A few months back, our friend the <a href="http://wotlarx.blogspot.com/2008/02/vive-la-festival.html">Francophone</a> had invited us for dinner, and had shown us a beautiful cookbook from a Montreal restaurant called <a href="http://www.restaurantaupieddecochon.ca/">Au Pied de Cochon</a>. As the title indicates, the focus of the book is MEAT, particularly pork - with an equal emphasis on foie gras. We ordered a copy of the book for ourselves, and have been dreaming about eating there for months. Two weeks before our visit, my Man phoned for a reservation, and managed to get the last available table for the Friday we'd be in town - at 5:30PM.<br /><br />Searching for a place to stay online, I looked for a small hotel that would be walking distance from the restaurant, and through <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/">TripAdvisor.com</a> stumbled upon the <a href="http://www.kutuma.com/">Kutuma</a>. It was a small boutique hotel, three stories tall, next door to an Ethiopian restaurant called <a href="http://montreal.diningguide.com/data/d100312.htm">The Blue Nile</a>, and run by the same owners. It is cosy and charming and the staff took wonderful care of us, upgrading our room to a junior suite with a kitchenette, helping us up the stairs with our bags, and showing us how to work the remarkably complicated shower.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchunc_yu-8kQzMYjgNVNnoJD5Iy439VtWFLmYJCg9Ipm_FdHvfEigkt1iv02mqrs3ERwJ6aowpqajIIZW835EVv9dcAn0A8e5NksGPvCmPhNiGxrpJdhPKWqvFgOQJrgBD3BOP9ru0o4/s1600-h/DSCF0757.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchunc_yu-8kQzMYjgNVNnoJD5Iy439VtWFLmYJCg9Ipm_FdHvfEigkt1iv02mqrs3ERwJ6aowpqajIIZW835EVv9dcAn0A8e5NksGPvCmPhNiGxrpJdhPKWqvFgOQJrgBD3BOP9ru0o4/s320/DSCF0757.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205233216061126434" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Being in the room was like being on safari. There was leopard-print carpeting on the floors, leopard-print sheets on the bed, as well as a furry leopard-print throw....zebra-printed cushions on the sofa...leopard-printed plates in the cupboard. It was all slightly kitsch and very comfortable - and the king-sized bed was heavenly.<br /><br />We only had a few minutes to unpack and have a quick wash before it was time to walk to the restaurant. After a couple of wrong turns down some very pretty side streets we managed to orient ourselves - though we had to duck into a couple of doorways along the way, due to sudden and inexplicable rain showers falling from the almost cloudless sky.<br /><br />This particular part of Montreal is so pretty - two or three-storey walk-ups line the well-treed streets, and people sit on theirs stoops chatting and reading and smoking...it's like Paris crossed with SoHo.<br /><br />The restaurant was everything we had hoped it would be. Though it was only 5:30PM, it was already filling up with a clientele that ranged from thirtysomething trendies to twentysomething punks to sixtysomething retired folk. The place had a casual, comfortable vibe, menus in two languages, incredibly knowledgeable (and gorgeous) wait staff - and delicious martinis.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsIKYGbJRlK1iKvufM7_29GaMtDzBbdLQPxs31RW_mCYtJp5gjpEXSFmYf4ja-yb_rXUpiwDpKcPyy-ECoK_F4ZAN98b_yhdeNJT4z8JPfKI2A8y1bwpEhjWRxqHKxu-3bXIb4UeBnJY/s1600-h/DSCF0725.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOsIKYGbJRlK1iKvufM7_29GaMtDzBbdLQPxs31RW_mCYtJp5gjpEXSFmYf4ja-yb_rXUpiwDpKcPyy-ECoK_F4ZAN98b_yhdeNJT4z8JPfKI2A8y1bwpEhjWRxqHKxu-3bXIb4UeBnJY/s320/DSCF0725.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205235238990722866" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrW300TBzMVsai_FlZPxxVySmf3uhCbIvyBSUVu0k_GIjKFZKfx5Iu-XvUe8bSdfBmOlAZ6zVotcZBLMab6aq4g5MigF_LViuEpWNWskXYYwnzH5EjtEFypzEbr2Oc-Ssqp3JYIClJRM/s1600-h/DSCF0729.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWrW300TBzMVsai_FlZPxxVySmf3uhCbIvyBSUVu0k_GIjKFZKfx5Iu-XvUe8bSdfBmOlAZ6zVotcZBLMab6aq4g5MigF_LViuEpWNWskXYYwnzH5EjtEFypzEbr2Oc-Ssqp3JYIClJRM/s320/DSCF0729.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205235608357910338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />What can I say about our meal? My only criticism is that the portions were too generous.<br /><br />We started with the Assiette de cochonnailles: a plate of three different kinds of pate - <a href="http://wotlarx.blogspot.com/2008/02/la-festival-continues.html">cretons</a>, pâté de campagne, and rillettes, along with some of the chef's home-made ketchup and an exquisite little square of jellied braising liquid.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyvXudSrYbxzXVj8UCU3Y2vOhcqoCRpwgdMRsyX5zyBEm7c0WXhBBlJuXzIvpkfnq4wqZWMhxzpXrkIG2KSttUbJmWvjiBoAEIyJ7Sdv0YC0HoXWdhSGu0__X9MoxDxRwZVKwCqWbjsQ/s1600-h/DSCF0730.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyvXudSrYbxzXVj8UCU3Y2vOhcqoCRpwgdMRsyX5zyBEm7c0WXhBBlJuXzIvpkfnq4wqZWMhxzpXrkIG2KSttUbJmWvjiBoAEIyJ7Sdv0YC0HoXWdhSGu0__X9MoxDxRwZVKwCqWbjsQ/s320/DSCF0730.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205237012812216146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This was followed by our vegetable course: a tomato tartlet and a delicious apple, endive, blue cheese and walnut salad.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_5p2ilRadwj1YGu3j61SAv7s1z6SxEj3AjxI2vDPU2LuhPY979GtCfgZvRj4lHdbOdiyUMqQJXSSlJsw_9_WV5z0QYCl6G6gSDgvVLlLjQEqFlLMNyUVnfYEtilyyB5-c2tynz5LMEI/s1600-h/DSCF0739.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7_5p2ilRadwj1YGu3j61SAv7s1z6SxEj3AjxI2vDPU2LuhPY979GtCfgZvRj4lHdbOdiyUMqQJXSSlJsw_9_WV5z0QYCl6G6gSDgvVLlLjQEqFlLMNyUVnfYEtilyyB5-c2tynz5LMEI/s320/DSCF0739.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205237528208291682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />For our main, we shared the bison tartare and the tarte boudin.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYb1ZlZJA9YaCpB6GoZD96V53bH195PAzv0BMXJuxvk1XIc-rOtHXnDLWtoyukfiqmW5ENi_vYKekLkBOAE0VJwHlyYKnlXiMegbVXBBKY10BJ73fS1JagrS3rx0LnpO5IQ33BUA7jU-Y/s1600-h/DSCF0741.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYb1ZlZJA9YaCpB6GoZD96V53bH195PAzv0BMXJuxvk1XIc-rOtHXnDLWtoyukfiqmW5ENi_vYKekLkBOAE0VJwHlyYKnlXiMegbVXBBKY10BJ73fS1JagrS3rx0LnpO5IQ33BUA7jU-Y/s320/DSCF0741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205238601950115698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The tartare was perfection - salty with capers and mustard and crunchy with finely chopped onion. It came with the restaurant's special french fries, cooked in duck fat - but we were so full by this point we couldn't really do them justice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAH2VK-CHJmK-Ctuav42C-1Hgk7fm2dwo_yvdupYZV13HRX7T_I_qtKykE9HtrBLCcgUe_vHj7OYxl76ShNePiRB1VI-K5uDeWk6uAHL65QBE5MD1ikqzH_T_isF-5ngmLbnnxqgwY6E/s1600-h/DSCF0743.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAH2VK-CHJmK-Ctuav42C-1Hgk7fm2dwo_yvdupYZV13HRX7T_I_qtKykE9HtrBLCcgUe_vHj7OYxl76ShNePiRB1VI-K5uDeWk6uAHL65QBE5MD1ikqzH_T_isF-5ngmLbnnxqgwY6E/s320/DSCF0743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205238614835017602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Boudin is a kind of blood sausage, and it came on a bed of flaky pastry, lined with thinly sliced potatoes, finished with foie gras. Completely decadent - a heart attack on a plate. We ate only a third of it between us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLP0vaA5vfC-6zTQVXviatI5yGnE5hO5l3tqPF4CBIHF9odK98fX8lxTW5WtwCn2LHM3WU8MHq88nAn7v9MGGR6XGt56QPbZKPEL9Mz_yaF1u-E1TTe7cRHhUt8DLLPDVZG3VP4wxAyr8/s1600-h/DSCF0744.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLP0vaA5vfC-6zTQVXviatI5yGnE5hO5l3tqPF4CBIHF9odK98fX8lxTW5WtwCn2LHM3WU8MHq88nAn7v9MGGR6XGt56QPbZKPEL9Mz_yaF1u-E1TTe7cRHhUt8DLLPDVZG3VP4wxAyr8/s320/DSCF0744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205238619129984914" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We couldn't leave without sampling a dessert. Our waiter recommended the pouding chômeur, a sponge-toffee concoction with a lovely texture that was slightly chewy and yet somehow melty all at the same time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTrpAk6Bc4rf-pUMO6Y9jiD2lZJzSdO8W9NzC4iV-zm1uqqK5YJuLQFRKd6SIAJxOmNm-teg24cSpdiijfZ9lCBv1H6fU4q9EEzkmbsHVXFJAUMo1e60dFWisrYumPssvXvJFBSehCMQ/s1600-h/DSCF0753.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTrpAk6Bc4rf-pUMO6Y9jiD2lZJzSdO8W9NzC4iV-zm1uqqK5YJuLQFRKd6SIAJxOmNm-teg24cSpdiijfZ9lCBv1H6fU4q9EEzkmbsHVXFJAUMo1e60dFWisrYumPssvXvJFBSehCMQ/s320/DSCF0753.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205239533958018978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After dinner, we rolled ourselves out to the street and staggered up and down Rue St Denis for a couple of hours, watching the city come to life in the May dusk. The light was lovely and golden, and the streets were still wet with rain, gleaming as the sun set.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv1o79gXnTm2WNQmdkh5EHZ1L_ZhJ3xqkirVXgr8nqXTme-gL8IH_aJ5xrwCePerbvBysQ0Fe4iOCw2rFOR2wssGKiys4-opywNP8EKzcrCVCY831tog5elhiQQ_I-rLss9XQEyrqsCQ/s1600-h/DSCF0772.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEv1o79gXnTm2WNQmdkh5EHZ1L_ZhJ3xqkirVXgr8nqXTme-gL8IH_aJ5xrwCePerbvBysQ0Fe4iOCw2rFOR2wssGKiys4-opywNP8EKzcrCVCY831tog5elhiQQ_I-rLss9XQEyrqsCQ/s320/DSCF0772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205240178203113394" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We'd hoped to find a place to have one last drink, to sit and do a little people-watching before turning in, but eventually we found ourselves back at the hotel - where the adjacent restaurant was packed with chattering Montrealers consuming injera and kitfo at an astonishing rate.<br /><br />By 10:00PM, our early morning and enormous dinner had combined to create a sort of paralysis.<br /><br />We slept.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-1518676789010841692008-04-16T21:45:00.007-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.676-04:00St John's - PostscriptBack 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?<br /><br />We walk to work this morning in an attempt to counteract the culture shock. We take the lake route.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />And there are swans, swimming hopefully up and eyeing us beadily with a view to breadcrumbs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOUepAtqW1nAfzgZRp8o6Y59UHuk-8dhPwbGkpvANeN9aFPqI84vB5dVeUCn-HsXVrE-IiQjECH_Idb7TKkVF_OHmzmh716iMU3RpqoOczEGZ3pVd398m2-rFdg3CWXFzhZcJCy4u8lI/s1600-h/DSCF0546.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCOUepAtqW1nAfzgZRp8o6Y59UHuk-8dhPwbGkpvANeN9aFPqI84vB5dVeUCn-HsXVrE-IiQjECH_Idb7TKkVF_OHmzmh716iMU3RpqoOczEGZ3pVd398m2-rFdg3CWXFzhZcJCy4u8lI/s320/DSCF0546.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190025958976700306" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />For dinner tonight we ate the Potter's moose sausages. They were divine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoorc35WqvrXMsubbUg4dJ1iOVPB4Dt-yXvQ_mLLS6b-TmHW7QBifN5ZhBf5M95PghAjYQKdWBi5ANJX-q_XvhWRh1fBptckRNONwMY5W7bRNuV8czQjtrygv7oywbgjvlWEWtkph4HQk/s1600-h/DSCF0547.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoorc35WqvrXMsubbUg4dJ1iOVPB4Dt-yXvQ_mLLS6b-TmHW7QBifN5ZhBf5M95PghAjYQKdWBi5ANJX-q_XvhWRh1fBptckRNONwMY5W7bRNuV8czQjtrygv7oywbgjvlWEWtkph4HQk/s320/DSCF0547.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190024726321086338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So that's it for now! The summer is coming, and with it some road trips and adventures, we hope. <br /><br />Thanks for sharing this journey with us, gentle readers.<br /><br />xowot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-68382133512261431752008-04-15T21:12:00.003-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.711-04:00St John's - Heading Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7jVkn_JM-1c5b4kD661dv00O3WnDuUGnqnYqv81jKTVhuVIIf6UFgSXb1PYBBGeEWq727bQ42jfR3qp76BGIdPcZRKUcz235jnG3kIX1WcvmaEcBlOMcuq8n8q7Q8T4NKXUHpBRacHY/s1600-h/DSCF0532.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7jVkn_JM-1c5b4kD661dv00O3WnDuUGnqnYqv81jKTVhuVIIf6UFgSXb1PYBBGeEWq727bQ42jfR3qp76BGIdPcZRKUcz235jnG3kIX1WcvmaEcBlOMcuq8n8q7Q8T4NKXUHpBRacHY/s320/DSCF0532.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190019701209349954" border="0" /></a><br />My man and Karen - breakfast-maker extraordinaire.<br /><br /><br />So today we say goodbye to new friends and fly home to old ones.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.fish-depot.com/">Fish Depot</a>...and to get to <a href="http://www.belbins.com/">Belbin's</a>...and - well, I think I may have to get back to St John's sometime very soon!<br /><br />We had a couple of errands to run before we left town - a visit to the Newfoundland Weavery to buy one of their fabulous <a href="http://www.larchwoodcanada.com/cuttingboards.htm">larch cutting boards</a>, and a stop at the <a href="http://www.craftcouncil.nl.ca/">Craft Council</a> for a few gifty things to bring home.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTyqg3gjq-nvC8Q3ZmJVlhqAMb2vzCWvMcDsQKS8d5TaPKOStInxJwjX9kWBmc2zteLjIBgO2lrlyg6XXag9hou_2SevQqvPtC2lgKGgUAH2W_ThCWRpsnu2WqyBtgW459m2NdnUfNI8/s1600-h/DSCF0545.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTyqg3gjq-nvC8Q3ZmJVlhqAMb2vzCWvMcDsQKS8d5TaPKOStInxJwjX9kWBmc2zteLjIBgO2lrlyg6XXag9hou_2SevQqvPtC2lgKGgUAH2W_ThCWRpsnu2WqyBtgW459m2NdnUfNI8/s320/DSCF0545.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190019705504317298" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />It's good to be home.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-21673881657535281252008-04-15T10:00:00.008-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.746-04:00St John's - Last Night<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAB48RO6NI2vs5ambYkaPjvghVxR9vEWeBCZPcUHKhS6aonLWB7Tkl01to91_IWIi8TN5DbfbAn_NE1JHHFSLR0pQ8iwqwskTSQXZYoW0miLl_bLkFlm_-bA1JnANCLNU5BOentNBAjkw/s1600-h/DSCF0524.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAB48RO6NI2vs5ambYkaPjvghVxR9vEWeBCZPcUHKhS6aonLWB7Tkl01to91_IWIi8TN5DbfbAn_NE1JHHFSLR0pQ8iwqwskTSQXZYoW0miLl_bLkFlm_-bA1JnANCLNU5BOentNBAjkw/s320/DSCF0524.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190012008922922770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0NhleQYdKrZx8eknRUsaiFoKZsVHdaq4JDqJRn5gcIwyQ3Bo9CXCcsT8BagTXZSK5aa56jZln-w5EHZuA5lDHO6AIJNxd8IW6BaS7q5Bzz69M6ZE54xYDm-EBdS7bsAvfgCbjGUBzLk/s1600-h/DSCF0525.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC0NhleQYdKrZx8eknRUsaiFoKZsVHdaq4JDqJRn5gcIwyQ3Bo9CXCcsT8BagTXZSK5aa56jZln-w5EHZuA5lDHO6AIJNxd8IW6BaS7q5Bzz69M6ZE54xYDm-EBdS7bsAvfgCbjGUBzLk/s320/DSCF0525.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190012013217890098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span></span><br />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.<br /><br />We'd been craving steak, so we went to <a href="http://www.christophers.ca/">Christopher's</a> 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjrYr7RyljEkXF7MR6TCTZdKetYmGBp4XJaSSrtboFORTAVsUcl7LS5ndy2-PlPX_hHmugT4hCxfReLb2FGDLKf_vlq-NSJOw45QiIdycCfD5fRqYwD200Z8MM4nx1GfaidXr_PCP1UM/s1600-h/DSCF0518.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjrYr7RyljEkXF7MR6TCTZdKetYmGBp4XJaSSrtboFORTAVsUcl7LS5ndy2-PlPX_hHmugT4hCxfReLb2FGDLKf_vlq-NSJOw45QiIdycCfD5fRqYwD200Z8MM4nx1GfaidXr_PCP1UM/s320/DSCF0518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190012004627955458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.artisticfraud.com/">rehearsal</a> the next day, so she wasn't up for a late night either.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpxgDk_navICBx0IifjBu1b2gvBHBvCTK7w3ZQyCtePIsv-dSYkkqg3DW3naJWb8nvYkvb4aewNzNKXXYOTxtAxV1RTMu4xdIOTtsz1D2O-p6THeAoMJ1nDK4CvXByKM_PwhpsCqq1TFw/s1600-h/DSCF0530.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpxgDk_navICBx0IifjBu1b2gvBHBvCTK7w3ZQyCtePIsv-dSYkkqg3DW3naJWb8nvYkvb4aewNzNKXXYOTxtAxV1RTMu4xdIOTtsz1D2O-p6THeAoMJ1nDK4CvXByKM_PwhpsCqq1TFw/s320/DSCF0530.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190012008922922786" border="0" /></a><br />The bar at the Fairmont.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-16136790857731637342008-04-15T07:28:00.008-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.782-04:00St 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.<br /><br />She is also a darn fine cook. We've eaten her French toast, her pancakes with <a href="http://www.darktickle.com/partridgeberryinfo.aspx">partridgeberries</a>, her omelettes, and her delightful grilled-cheese-with-fried-egg-on-top (our personal favourite).<br /><br />Yesterday morning over breakfast, we were discussing the merits of the various fish and chip shops in town. My man expressed a partiality for <a href="http://www.chessfishandchips.ca/home.html">Ches's</a>. 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />I smiled.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34fAX9Zi7SH_Yz6Q3vBkV7onPGv1xYGdiT0WaBC3X-jcVt2djLHymHlEozXyyHCgvD-Hq7fZD7Soe2j_ItdhIWeWoepACTFDy9RqGOrvKOP0uyAAnsjuDdzYMnDlrSyKLaqu3zx-CInM/s1600-h/DSCF0504.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi34fAX9Zi7SH_Yz6Q3vBkV7onPGv1xYGdiT0WaBC3X-jcVt2djLHymHlEozXyyHCgvD-Hq7fZD7Soe2j_ItdhIWeWoepACTFDy9RqGOrvKOP0uyAAnsjuDdzYMnDlrSyKLaqu3zx-CInM/s320/DSCF0504.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189439605746482882" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Delicious.<br /><br />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....wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-45876242964984139842008-04-14T07:27:00.007-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.817-04:00St John's - Eighth NightYou would not believe how hard it is to find an open pharmacy in St John's on a Sunday!<br /><br />First we tried the Water Street Pharmacy.<br /><br />Closed.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />We hoof it up to Long's Hill.<br /><br />Closed.<br /><br />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).<br /><br />Success!! The Sobey's pharmacy is open!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvk5aI_fb0u0OltItE9lfYNA4qzCXd8iXNbYeszG-9fS1w-RG2wk5K9ZKdAm5Tjd2jfACxejjeJPcxcA_ny8MuU1UzgOdQTXxYlKOhF6jmWxM8f4R_1N5yfwo6GhevUlQx7I1FE2bXCuI/s1600-h/DSCF0471.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvk5aI_fb0u0OltItE9lfYNA4qzCXd8iXNbYeszG-9fS1w-RG2wk5K9ZKdAm5Tjd2jfACxejjeJPcxcA_ny8MuU1UzgOdQTXxYlKOhF6jmWxM8f4R_1N5yfwo6GhevUlQx7I1FE2bXCuI/s320/DSCF0471.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189067348046036626" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxG9mcRyGOUKCMy7Hj-N2mSqjwwfa-WEEW66qZJ7tezBbwfYMR12DgQtRQDS-s5ivP9Tq0vdf-kAOIOaGUKVRADoUQAMuJOLRN2bGBdyXlaZIN0H8BhfbfZO4HFk7LMepRSdUDa2i8Bz8/s1600-h/DSCF0465.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxG9mcRyGOUKCMy7Hj-N2mSqjwwfa-WEEW66qZJ7tezBbwfYMR12DgQtRQDS-s5ivP9Tq0vdf-kAOIOaGUKVRADoUQAMuJOLRN2bGBdyXlaZIN0H8BhfbfZO4HFk7LMepRSdUDa2i8Bz8/s320/DSCF0465.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189064577792130674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWegWRT7-epGmWvDT-7pW-COmD9-Jd_YPn4BorE61y4tFzCeMh1sGZYdISAPkH0f-Dz9DsqQq9immyAT5cxZaZ2vrdhyphenhyphenB-3JUUKhKtPluaBDrPIq2HRHmFVzsyYI0DXI-Z4G5RDlufZQ/s1600-h/DSCF0474.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqWegWRT7-epGmWvDT-7pW-COmD9-Jd_YPn4BorE61y4tFzCeMh1sGZYdISAPkH0f-Dz9DsqQq9immyAT5cxZaZ2vrdhyphenhyphenB-3JUUKhKtPluaBDrPIq2HRHmFVzsyYI0DXI-Z4G5RDlufZQ/s320/DSCF0474.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189076195678666402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.) <span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span></span><br />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: <a href="http://www.writersalliance.nf.ca/members/drubin.html">Dan Rubin</a>, <a href="http://www.ameliacurran.com/">Amelia Curran</a>, <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=73420315">Tom Power</a>, <a href="http://shorock.com/nfld/2006/show.html?id=594">Jeik Loksa</a>, <a href="http://www.sandymorrismusic.com/">Sandy Morris</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jenny_Gear">Jenny Gear</a>, <a href="http://www.rowdyblues.com/peternarvaez.html">Peter Narvaez</a>, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/jillporter">Jill Porter</a>, <a href="http://www.sherryryan.com/">Sherry Ryan</a>, <a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=96955560">Joanne Wareham</a> and <a href="http://www.duaneandrews.ca/">Duane Andrews</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gsfjEOQ5qVBVYbdgevi8hJEGfSW1RMgn2ZuJmYZ9W_GYZVWzyAOKsrhqDw-ymUN5xhNzWiuruzceW8kFN8-i1ODYdJ_oVtEetNCEi6qUtaQ1qtagVipAB_VPSz7UFpBfetGODzcjkfE/s1600-h/DSCF0467.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gsfjEOQ5qVBVYbdgevi8hJEGfSW1RMgn2ZuJmYZ9W_GYZVWzyAOKsrhqDw-ymUN5xhNzWiuruzceW8kFN8-i1ODYdJ_oVtEetNCEi6qUtaQ1qtagVipAB_VPSz7UFpBfetGODzcjkfE/s320/DSCF0467.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189066085325651586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU56ErX4072V5x_lP0Zi9sjwCMJ3r23w90IzfnDWpWgYa63E3iFmKinc8J-Q5EWPChLVwEvRfOjsTfddtvYkjkYm7pT0Kc9LRt_8EexRExRiy7sAzlRX_qMmbgVaIK9sBo_A74klv7-b0/s1600-h/DSCF0475.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU56ErX4072V5x_lP0Zi9sjwCMJ3r23w90IzfnDWpWgYa63E3iFmKinc8J-Q5EWPChLVwEvRfOjsTfddtvYkjkYm7pT0Kc9LRt_8EexRExRiy7sAzlRX_qMmbgVaIK9sBo_A74klv7-b0/s320/DSCF0475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189076208563568306" border="0" /></a><br />The Potter and I.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-81862838407252148882008-04-13T12:09:00.006-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.850-04:00St John's - Day EightSo far, today has been a bit of a bomb.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-VE8ECxn5y3trNg1muJqLxJV45ePNagsszAYmh3f2pVxjMmVejBhKpsYo4otpXLvfB3FMPSJk-nz9ooou8sHdFK9L46vE9B8dIiY-2rmWJAcZNUam2BrcANJ6iyVzz17PU1Is0Y6BSg/s1600-h/DSCF0464.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-VE8ECxn5y3trNg1muJqLxJV45ePNagsszAYmh3f2pVxjMmVejBhKpsYo4otpXLvfB3FMPSJk-nz9ooou8sHdFK9L46vE9B8dIiY-2rmWJAcZNUam2BrcANJ6iyVzz17PU1Is0Y6BSg/s320/DSCF0464.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188765669543165538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Fifteen minutes later, soaked and tired, we were back home and back in bed.<br /><br />It's now 2pm and the sun is out.<br /><br />We are off to the pharmacy.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-30464056139485842632008-04-13T11:46:00.008-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.884-04:00St John's - Seventh NightOn our own tonight, which was very pleasant indeed!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGXbLywIhcH9YnYGOpjKmC3T9yLx_j8EzzRnrPJsvnY-72BH-fJp201iBDXRxXDIFPnuUDjdSxoRaRUssQQMLHNZC6xp4lGNoTaiRwSlukVD3cDF4Pe0LBndfsxIj2T7470JxUrAPOiM/s1600-h/DSCF0446.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGXbLywIhcH9YnYGOpjKmC3T9yLx_j8EzzRnrPJsvnY-72BH-fJp201iBDXRxXDIFPnuUDjdSxoRaRUssQQMLHNZC6xp4lGNoTaiRwSlukVD3cDF4Pe0LBndfsxIj2T7470JxUrAPOiM/s320/DSCF0446.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188758977984118290" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After a some fairly extensive internet restaurant research, we decided to go with a recommendation of the Potter's, and have dinner at <a href="http://www.biancas.net/">Bianca's</a>. 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.<br /><br />When we arrived, there was one other couple there.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />This is what we went with, and it was delish:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvmGEr6457k41eT7VNO7idH25lLHfwMn_4yc87eYKsTMfqs-Va8bJgTipR2QV_kQ46Hw8Qblnd6oih1CR9tTqHxsAF_k8vI9Dwe9skqemSXhyphenhyphenNZo6LaJGul1r1nczAzq2oueaMRgJfNk/s1600-h/DSCF0454.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvmGEr6457k41eT7VNO7idH25lLHfwMn_4yc87eYKsTMfqs-Va8bJgTipR2QV_kQ46Hw8Qblnd6oih1CR9tTqHxsAF_k8vI9Dwe9skqemSXhyphenhyphenNZo6LaJGul1r1nczAzq2oueaMRgJfNk/s320/DSCF0454.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188758608616930818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYVBzQ-hE8a5K1aXflPz5VBtRpNCUNyT2AYYQ2-JcwYyENRQYMYfxbDL4l53RXhw0icvFUHTWyGzDhC-4tVRJLGTTOJE7pvGv99gNJOlZfc03dcyyRgCOWZFE4zlkoq2gZjtdJAEAoq4/s1600-h/DSCF0448.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEYVBzQ-hE8a5K1aXflPz5VBtRpNCUNyT2AYYQ2-JcwYyENRQYMYfxbDL4l53RXhw0icvFUHTWyGzDhC-4tVRJLGTTOJE7pvGv99gNJOlZfc03dcyyRgCOWZFE4zlkoq2gZjtdJAEAoq4/s320/DSCF0448.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188759768258100770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5SUEdZV5nVxfLASVDJjRxMX3eP2HnIpAUuwqxP1ni1t8jwby6l4auIOUj5a4ZThsGBEKZDrgiQfE-4sIzFtUe8yjctHLFWVbO5uxMJPf8YprXurvmsygJ_mQa8_Gq2aUyCMpEHAHYB0/s1600-h/DSCF0451.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5SUEdZV5nVxfLASVDJjRxMX3eP2HnIpAUuwqxP1ni1t8jwby6l4auIOUj5a4ZThsGBEKZDrgiQfE-4sIzFtUe8yjctHLFWVbO5uxMJPf8YprXurvmsygJ_mQa8_Gq2aUyCMpEHAHYB0/s320/DSCF0451.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188760811935153714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3CT1Zpj-UcRrzUskEC_sf1ufkTJ-_M8oFvqObFgk5HYf220V9-b0enZmga9F4rARSlK3PSJV_lpI4EsT5OTV2WCz39Wh-UQOKWabYiVRlnzDqftmoSBUNWmPfcyfmXe26HXfkiGf_Ho/s1600-h/DSCF0453.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS3CT1Zpj-UcRrzUskEC_sf1ufkTJ-_M8oFvqObFgk5HYf220V9-b0enZmga9F4rARSlK3PSJV_lpI4EsT5OTV2WCz39Wh-UQOKWabYiVRlnzDqftmoSBUNWmPfcyfmXe26HXfkiGf_Ho/s320/DSCF0453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188760820525088322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xdGALMB9TvVyKg7fBgQuwPjpsR_1wIbwWtMQsRHOPLujQE7KtnYiMQ5FS49l4hkgCRQ7wR0DPc48GAvM8MuxsPc-wkR99P8TorqaoqsUwstgptwZGTaXMmbMXi65xFNvw4V3zPqs8_o/s1600-h/DSCF0460.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xdGALMB9TvVyKg7fBgQuwPjpsR_1wIbwWtMQsRHOPLujQE7KtnYiMQ5FS49l4hkgCRQ7wR0DPc48GAvM8MuxsPc-wkR99P8TorqaoqsUwstgptwZGTaXMmbMXi65xFNvw4V3zPqs8_o/s320/DSCF0460.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188762126195146322" border="0" /></a>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-35697606256723994322008-04-12T15:00:00.009-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.918-04:00St John's - Day SevenToday 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 <a href="http://www.auntiecraes.com/">Auntie Crae's</a>, including a delicious goat Gouda, some Double Gloucester, and a delicious stinky French one I can't remember the name of...<br /><br />After lunch, we walked down to the water to take a few photos of the three collaborators:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGGlaMkgIINP9SHJqDKoH4_1tJjZODhtM9vEEk-NOQWaT4WBipuWsnuultYo9MTBhUIcUxE8N2woImc_JZ-2pz4Rn9yQA8B4XpnUm9PIb1sXOI2SWy67raGM95q6AXMZ3OIWhRxnVahw/s1600-h/DSCF0414.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGGlaMkgIINP9SHJqDKoH4_1tJjZODhtM9vEEk-NOQWaT4WBipuWsnuultYo9MTBhUIcUxE8N2woImc_JZ-2pz4Rn9yQA8B4XpnUm9PIb1sXOI2SWy67raGM95q6AXMZ3OIWhRxnVahw/s320/DSCF0414.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188438586278521298" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />Here they are posing for their album cover:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkwMQEQYaADWbark6-g-WvtWnXRkrDat_GGHYmF00BGi3oEV1a_G-ncyhHeZHAvfWl7GxxTnZFop3Dfc9UQmSz407cMqPp53-pacMWRmKF_kAPd0MvWJpIcj5kaZKKbj28bzqjLjRaY8/s1600-h/DSCF0419.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkwMQEQYaADWbark6-g-WvtWnXRkrDat_GGHYmF00BGi3oEV1a_G-ncyhHeZHAvfWl7GxxTnZFop3Dfc9UQmSz407cMqPp53-pacMWRmKF_kAPd0MvWJpIcj5kaZKKbj28bzqjLjRaY8/s320/DSCF0419.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188445196233189906" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvg98C9F9MDOk3R7amOJQt4GCZniBRGXNBtnsg99IiMMOb-79Hut-JlLMltYVOi8E217HwXEWIPZj9eIOFXKFxPvWYhjqaovlgNBSpCKrvFkIoLle0gltIT2T58Wo6O_JS3ozxu03pOcM/s1600-h/DSCF0422.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvg98C9F9MDOk3R7amOJQt4GCZniBRGXNBtnsg99IiMMOb-79Hut-JlLMltYVOi8E217HwXEWIPZj9eIOFXKFxPvWYhjqaovlgNBSpCKrvFkIoLle0gltIT2T58Wo6O_JS3ozxu03pOcM/s320/DSCF0422.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188439715854920162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The point furthest away is where we were yesterday - Cape Spear:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjem3aHkH06RXHX7QwCp1oFcCSJ751zhjV2SuppXaA3iUYisNBJvEgllYcoPQP5Z_ZU-lt87zQshY2qccMjdezq36fBYHo7bVlBX0ngcMcZQjc32QeZIKzuJhldlM2CycSlt37HNLXC3V8/s1600-h/DSCF0426.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjem3aHkH06RXHX7QwCp1oFcCSJ751zhjV2SuppXaA3iUYisNBJvEgllYcoPQP5Z_ZU-lt87zQshY2qccMjdezq36fBYHo7bVlBX0ngcMcZQjc32QeZIKzuJhldlM2CycSlt37HNLXC3V8/s320/DSCF0426.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188440012207663602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I do like to be beside the seaside...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzQKcbW6lVAEOdTA6GQQKH3RLKojJWR8_3l3VQIf8XQyYzRpZv32iJFFUFrrpZTK9MI8Lhc9bDgH8QnDpDBWqykSh97GDrBytzhV2EDu6eL3oPxal4FlO5TiLlL96l76IsblBhXQCOQc/s1600-h/DSCF0433.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLzQKcbW6lVAEOdTA6GQQKH3RLKojJWR8_3l3VQIf8XQyYzRpZv32iJFFUFrrpZTK9MI8Lhc9bDgH8QnDpDBWqykSh97GDrBytzhV2EDu6eL3oPxal4FlO5TiLlL96l76IsblBhXQCOQc/s320/DSCF0433.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188440351510080002" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-6576243077880491402008-04-11T23:08:00.004-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.954-04:00St John's - Sixth NightDinner tonight was at <a href="http://www.restaurant21.ca/">Restaurant 21</a>.<br /><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class="on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"></span></span><br />My Man, the Italian and I all had the caribou medallions on truffled potatoes, with sourdough <a href="http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=-8830852765765670190&q=toutons&total=1&start=0&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=0">toutons</a> dressed in a salt meat and white bean stew.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL10E2EoyBUXKnDtlJGJIYX3NTQqiv6RZ6IPUAK_-_2AL6VqGQHYU1ScsNpD5qIoOP3RabPLSf5sI-qbXEXQCCB9xoTRCB1yhMqfKPCdqJRHKHSlF56Jl9_bNOiRJPe4d4aajhiEhpx8/s1600-h/DSCF0390.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL10E2EoyBUXKnDtlJGJIYX3NTQqiv6RZ6IPUAK_-_2AL6VqGQHYU1ScsNpD5qIoOP3RabPLSf5sI-qbXEXQCCB9xoTRCB1yhMqfKPCdqJRHKHSlF56Jl9_bNOiRJPe4d4aajhiEhpx8/s320/DSCF0390.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188310853951138226" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Nuff said.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://www.buck65.com/">Buck 65</a> do his thing for very appreciative Friday night crowd. Sadly, we were too late for the opening act, <a href="http://www.cadenceweaponmusic.com/">Cadence Weapon</a>, 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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK6tfHor7TXSgthRD1VP2JnbfHA2iPa8K10qeuP3WjGO5CXf-1EQUQTcmCWhbK5AFWzqtC76QqxvglR1CyIbXxjGZ91KO6-IZwOViIJcI_LotLrYIj-MQFu94KoRxArB52kmgCB0Lys4/s1600-h/DSCF0398.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK6tfHor7TXSgthRD1VP2JnbfHA2iPa8K10qeuP3WjGO5CXf-1EQUQTcmCWhbK5AFWzqtC76QqxvglR1CyIbXxjGZ91KO6-IZwOViIJcI_LotLrYIj-MQFu94KoRxArB52kmgCB0Lys4/s320/DSCF0398.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188313246247922114" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-2996368210601366262008-04-11T14:42:00.012-04:002021-05-01T07:55:02.989-04:00St John's - Day SixAnother cloudy, drizzly day today - the perfect day to take a drive out to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Spear">Cape Spear</a>, 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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWlr_91Nc36VrimsCgkJnmhfMkhoBd6zSIjuaD-pSxLL-tVotvEqSOxaP8v65r-1YPLcnuNnTNsnPMn_ZHS6MN9_0v-QVbrb1y6HDc6ROEy1gpfgLH3WLQzIQU7scBgeZvoWGksgrX9Y/s1600-h/DSCF0376.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWlr_91Nc36VrimsCgkJnmhfMkhoBd6zSIjuaD-pSxLL-tVotvEqSOxaP8v65r-1YPLcnuNnTNsnPMn_ZHS6MN9_0v-QVbrb1y6HDc6ROEy1gpfgLH3WLQzIQU7scBgeZvoWGksgrX9Y/s320/DSCF0376.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188062690740775026" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFkTDWl67xB5VxyiFUpAIHzfHQzqp2jr9oHYJGhYkEv8NDbthiSBC-uV_pC8Gajyk7IEwra93iLX-FROdQHrZhTi9VBaWfrXkOTKdzTHiMifZZs5jJ8HFlVRS8Kq8jSHurXsaknmUm-0/s1600-h/DSCF0372.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFkTDWl67xB5VxyiFUpAIHzfHQzqp2jr9oHYJGhYkEv8NDbthiSBC-uV_pC8Gajyk7IEwra93iLX-FROdQHrZhTi9VBaWfrXkOTKdzTHiMifZZs5jJ8HFlVRS8Kq8jSHurXsaknmUm-0/s320/DSCF0372.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188062222589339730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSL0_VeHLjXEjlj2Y43_MC4509ltxrae6YFa4knD_LDElsDqISqG0U6sQ6xkg54we2K4XX0V5VJ4d-Idc1Mp8qRcmhp-haKvZ_zTcWJoZ4EgSz8LvE9DWKlzmqQkEJfGCaIeIJnO7gNyM/s1600-h/DSCF0383.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSL0_VeHLjXEjlj2Y43_MC4509ltxrae6YFa4knD_LDElsDqISqG0U6sQ6xkg54we2K4XX0V5VJ4d-Idc1Mp8qRcmhp-haKvZ_zTcWJoZ4EgSz8LvE9DWKlzmqQkEJfGCaIeIJnO7gNyM/s320/DSCF0383.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188062686445807714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAa3_Xcvq26MQ4BXig-HEcN_Upih383s4jN_p5apICirt9I_dKlho4RpBBk8Ow2lvQ8J3yTyuYRt3hOLeg06bQZM6GgFVhdiVD6fSl8ZO-g5gR7iW2feCexg7GsE6jWQJaKGomSxNf4hQ/s1600-h/DSCF0386.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAa3_Xcvq26MQ4BXig-HEcN_Upih383s4jN_p5apICirt9I_dKlho4RpBBk8Ow2lvQ8J3yTyuYRt3hOLeg06bQZM6GgFVhdiVD6fSl8ZO-g5gR7iW2feCexg7GsE6jWQJaKGomSxNf4hQ/s320/DSCF0386.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188063403705346178" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />After lunch we had time for a quick trip up the road to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quidi_Vidi">Quidi Vidi</a>, a wee fishing village that is part of St John's proper, tucked away on a little bay the other side of Signal Hill.<br /><br />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!wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-75486133494918621162008-04-11T00:20:00.006-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.024-04:00St John's - Fifth Night<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX66kYuiJ4Mbd3xs2hXCBw6hqCmRKKLoOX6anVLAHRy_HgJYk1RiP-EwSDr4crPlDRN4FaE5MLuaavifXM6e1anSbgapclbLvhOqVTk3hAogEotbt2OwIeFR-Vgg2CSDNBco2Z-BWKV_o/s1600-h/DSCF0365.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX66kYuiJ4Mbd3xs2hXCBw6hqCmRKKLoOX6anVLAHRy_HgJYk1RiP-EwSDr4crPlDRN4FaE5MLuaavifXM6e1anSbgapclbLvhOqVTk3hAogEotbt2OwIeFR-Vgg2CSDNBco2Z-BWKV_o/s320/DSCF0365.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188077134715791698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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...<br /><br />But on to more important subjects: dinner.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOz32jDiBUpHa4Ek5S8yvPUjvsjfKOQEuN5i7ZtGS2Y34tCceUKy-idHbNbyp8IyGRwpS29IUotJTreLfYPLDERwRQnjKgwk749KOAGnOcFwAb25tRXPR6B9ZN90LzG4aIMeReEyH8BoE/s1600-h/DSCF0368.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOz32jDiBUpHa4Ek5S8yvPUjvsjfKOQEuN5i7ZtGS2Y34tCceUKy-idHbNbyp8IyGRwpS29IUotJTreLfYPLDERwRQnjKgwk749KOAGnOcFwAb25tRXPR6B9ZN90LzG4aIMeReEyH8BoE/s320/DSCF0368.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188078564939901282" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO75Hfj2uTMPl9fbEam_-L-ExMAJ7PimIBgsSrB0TiNktvmZDVSR2AVnEdo1QxAO892JQkGzevCChcFhjGGV29AoG3OWdqIL7zPrug8Cld9Iq7n7lEzJPsIe5xKY9CZgCTKUqcy8EtK8/s1600-h/DSCF0370.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO75Hfj2uTMPl9fbEam_-L-ExMAJ7PimIBgsSrB0TiNktvmZDVSR2AVnEdo1QxAO892JQkGzevCChcFhjGGV29AoG3OWdqIL7zPrug8Cld9Iq7n7lEzJPsIe5xKY9CZgCTKUqcy8EtK8/s320/DSCF0370.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188078899947350386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMUY7bGomkk4hK27yFYrhfnf-lgL58i1Czgz7XrL3QuNi_Rpwyktvf-cBxHh2MIn_BMNI3OEENILJeEskwfPWqhhxcpr3vG7UcbMKZ13Rkcj-QAlOfssSvZ09q8IPpTEwv0uQ-8u7_3o/s1600-h/DSCF0366.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFMUY7bGomkk4hK27yFYrhfnf-lgL58i1Czgz7XrL3QuNi_Rpwyktvf-cBxHh2MIn_BMNI3OEENILJeEskwfPWqhhxcpr3vG7UcbMKZ13Rkcj-QAlOfssSvZ09q8IPpTEwv0uQ-8u7_3o/s320/DSCF0366.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188079230659832194" border="0" /></a>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-57336876231975182382008-04-10T17:09:00.010-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.058-04:00St John's - Day FiveToday the sun came out, and it was glorious!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />This is Signal Hill from the bottom:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzbtCsjTuVNPZKUVoB9YfJQ-fhNrt3F5SHYEGutuzPdPPJAFFmzbUdvXD1U8pyvvgq-N4jKBzyGwx5xjeKwCmehxvAcdln1E5lcOhyphenhyphencOQo63t_miqHloWL5x3cw-ZHxCmHpGvGeFBWqA/s1600-h/DSCF0349.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzbtCsjTuVNPZKUVoB9YfJQ-fhNrt3F5SHYEGutuzPdPPJAFFmzbUdvXD1U8pyvvgq-N4jKBzyGwx5xjeKwCmehxvAcdln1E5lcOhyphenhyphencOQo63t_miqHloWL5x3cw-ZHxCmHpGvGeFBWqA/s320/DSCF0349.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188075077426456898" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgec0Bp7jrZC3Hbg0Yrqr5k9DcY9rxxNhEM3K2vWPKjCPd4AUp-xFoG52U4KaWHdUf5yb0UsVruFY1ak9Cauc60e9EqpZF5L-ZV7molkECBMnE-maGVGO8AdVVN2wlu1acImeFUt9ufu70/s1600-h/DSCF0363.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgec0Bp7jrZC3Hbg0Yrqr5k9DcY9rxxNhEM3K2vWPKjCPd4AUp-xFoG52U4KaWHdUf5yb0UsVruFY1ak9Cauc60e9EqpZF5L-ZV7molkECBMnE-maGVGO8AdVVN2wlu1acImeFUt9ufu70/s320/DSCF0363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187974343263496258" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqCBwyVZZwGzbAvs_P9Pxisr2TH5xVPSPKwkMHGvn5bjHpZM7L31OWPxNb6Y8mFdsE59rbPqdMNTPL5FS1tIlstNv3HGfEWsycNKnEZ1XV7IZKE19q7mbjGA-YiL5DkncltYcBGW16Hk/s1600-h/DSCF0361.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqCBwyVZZwGzbAvs_P9Pxisr2TH5xVPSPKwkMHGvn5bjHpZM7L31OWPxNb6Y8mFdsE59rbPqdMNTPL5FS1tIlstNv3HGfEWsycNKnEZ1XV7IZKE19q7mbjGA-YiL5DkncltYcBGW16Hk/s320/DSCF0361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187971109153122322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ndoTDqGPI-PhrUWJRJy01FEQOAlQb-oSHcvb5C2-LqvNstGnp-25uVKqsJ4sP6gYEImOntJDbKnB7cdMe6StWm7MiT35akoCMfKWNDvjcsoLVIFcQrGVEA41XIJu2bF_biaIYAr9wF4/s1600-h/DSCF0360.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ndoTDqGPI-PhrUWJRJy01FEQOAlQb-oSHcvb5C2-LqvNstGnp-25uVKqsJ4sP6gYEImOntJDbKnB7cdMe6StWm7MiT35akoCMfKWNDvjcsoLVIFcQrGVEA41XIJu2bF_biaIYAr9wF4/s320/DSCF0360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187971122038024242" border="0" /></a>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-21293515226385378292008-04-09T23:20:00.009-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.092-04:00St John's - Fourth NightTonight 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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBujRyzDnv8oN_sEgaGC67vEgmyzEcFNOc_8lZWCG8GSEMgkB5bt24Bgm9IrirCdUy5ekG6Ehu1QXvsXdwB1MvLBhRa65b9hlDMehyls8OFIFkC4w_2hM-aNDDzglYmNlbKyljW437tE/s1600-h/DSCF0314.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBujRyzDnv8oN_sEgaGC67vEgmyzEcFNOc_8lZWCG8GSEMgkB5bt24Bgm9IrirCdUy5ekG6Ehu1QXvsXdwB1MvLBhRa65b9hlDMehyls8OFIFkC4w_2hM-aNDDzglYmNlbKyljW437tE/s320/DSCF0314.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188070640725240018" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqaPG_Ga1FfBrQ0e0WvhwLy-euue0xog7vypv3rhKpoPEed8dzDMXN-U_1Y4rrQm3d6Cl6tpEv2RkegheG3oWv68MNbP4L_pWDpGkBBUg52QzIN6dPMqRqCijU-Hbn1xyNAL_w_u7qiM/s1600-h/DSCF0326.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqaPG_Ga1FfBrQ0e0WvhwLy-euue0xog7vypv3rhKpoPEed8dzDMXN-U_1Y4rrQm3d6Cl6tpEv2RkegheG3oWv68MNbP4L_pWDpGkBBUg52QzIN6dPMqRqCijU-Hbn1xyNAL_w_u7qiM/s320/DSCF0326.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188072247043008770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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 <span style="font-style: italic;">massaged</span> it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWKeV1XYJeD_9eU1AbUvSEX-qG-LnX_BPjxKe2iQ0Xl7bKf1YXdRsSHOTRKPUXoi7nGgei1_qAqPse4SQ46xGRjVmyVmN6MQQRkFTxx4JyK_pNF1Q__I6El2lNr5_YRITSbyp7kITKWQ/s1600-h/DSCF0335.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMWKeV1XYJeD_9eU1AbUvSEX-qG-LnX_BPjxKe2iQ0Xl7bKf1YXdRsSHOTRKPUXoi7nGgei1_qAqPse4SQ46xGRjVmyVmN6MQQRkFTxx4JyK_pNF1Q__I6El2lNr5_YRITSbyp7kITKWQ/s320/DSCF0335.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188072006524840178" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here he is, ready to pop his masterpiece in the oven:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qizpNwCMqVJLbg4JwMqySDaReSeenxGQaq7W3w9ykjzC-abrI07YOvqTzJryDmKS2e1zoUXjs-T1vB-GbctSluJN-LKYHCfvakccyyvT6L-qnRDYN70I8fU1uaw63b-jnaG1bqWyktk/s1600-h/DSCF0336.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qizpNwCMqVJLbg4JwMqySDaReSeenxGQaq7W3w9ykjzC-abrI07YOvqTzJryDmKS2e1zoUXjs-T1vB-GbctSluJN-LKYHCfvakccyyvT6L-qnRDYN70I8fU1uaw63b-jnaG1bqWyktk/s320/DSCF0336.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188072706604509474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And here are the three collaborators enjoying a well-earned pre-dinner drink:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMJOtApaE67gyKPospeKQLxNL88Qf3Qx9XDBlJ5plS2Wc3jjXc0HJY1vMpKc1URdOFOiQWTIUz-rXLJsehvEjQ4VxBlx0CtQcgZ0jSNKXQeCVA0oRFx1T56MW1y6NjFzYbb-lOVm6jq0/s1600-h/DSCF0330.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMJOtApaE67gyKPospeKQLxNL88Qf3Qx9XDBlJ5plS2Wc3jjXc0HJY1vMpKc1URdOFOiQWTIUz-rXLJsehvEjQ4VxBlx0CtQcgZ0jSNKXQeCVA0oRFx1T56MW1y6NjFzYbb-lOVm6jq0/s320/DSCF0330.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188072521920915730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLXbagaL9t0eJD5EnKX9TeHMjT-jztivD_dRexlj_TW50mBgpv7-grA7ElhrQI-fUf1UJJEBXSKx4IQajNSrV-WKbyAVjRFP5J-x7oQOayqYQV3WbpVkkp2Q8PMF-OGUxJi1uHPXQTHc/s1600-h/DSCF0340.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxLXbagaL9t0eJD5EnKX9TeHMjT-jztivD_dRexlj_TW50mBgpv7-grA7ElhrQI-fUf1UJJEBXSKx4IQajNSrV-WKbyAVjRFP5J-x7oQOayqYQV3WbpVkkp2Q8PMF-OGUxJi1uHPXQTHc/s320/DSCF0340.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188073389504309554" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-52765664771110442572008-04-09T17:21:00.006-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.128-04:00St John's - Day Four<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyeKai8XR3V1smLWBXxCjkLw9CGNWUSPfUjrHbZaFw8z6j-Aw9B3kpXoKrR1glr0M6buOJNsb-WpYUzVaivLs3zwtnmKQ_nenTFWri8uBglrHX_shl28yrt2tBRA6PcztjMij8rUg6hc/s1600-h/DSCF0313.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyeKai8XR3V1smLWBXxCjkLw9CGNWUSPfUjrHbZaFw8z6j-Aw9B3kpXoKrR1glr0M6buOJNsb-WpYUzVaivLs3zwtnmKQ_nenTFWri8uBglrHX_shl28yrt2tBRA6PcztjMij8rUg6hc/s320/DSCF0313.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188069176141392066" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Last week I'd noticed on the fence of the <a href="http://www.infonet.st-johns.nf.ca/cathedral/">Anglican Cathedral of St John's</a> 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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwN5pSM1uZX-dcITVisbkio_Iqv_EnOOaC0ZUZ3ZImkqrLFNBsZBGHVo5BxPH0rcpwtX4k-6ip7lcbucGBhKJLwYVl5zYgC-kDphpebDivmQUv_kJ9u_UzVXrA-BmDgaccMSJ2EEQ7iY/s1600-h/DSCF0308.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwN5pSM1uZX-dcITVisbkio_Iqv_EnOOaC0ZUZ3ZImkqrLFNBsZBGHVo5BxPH0rcpwtX4k-6ip7lcbucGBhKJLwYVl5zYgC-kDphpebDivmQUv_kJ9u_UzVXrA-BmDgaccMSJ2EEQ7iY/s320/DSCF0308.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188068725169825970" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It was great! The church is beautiful and has the most gorgeous stained glass windows. The organ is a <a href="http://www.casavant.ca/new_temp/img/home/HomeFrame.htm">Great Casavant</a> 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.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOjZJax_NtRppn1hXXxKEv3174ChMxn2oCWdVh9WD2lmUTYDWi2DAp9z0fGl3a6o21PbCJduBjz5eunl6xCWe2fo7CLFoVBW_cefNTSbBP4oUYDOhR0_gvovDrgELUYUK5lsMRHNdzOI/s1600-h/DSCF0305.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOjZJax_NtRppn1hXXxKEv3174ChMxn2oCWdVh9WD2lmUTYDWi2DAp9z0fGl3a6o21PbCJduBjz5eunl6xCWe2fo7CLFoVBW_cefNTSbBP4oUYDOhR0_gvovDrgELUYUK5lsMRHNdzOI/s320/DSCF0305.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188068488946624674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />There seems to be no legislation about dog poop either, unfortunately....wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-32331324989413540032008-04-08T23:59:00.010-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.164-04:00St John's - Third Night<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">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 </span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://www.karlwells.com/review87.htm">Basho</a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. In the meantime, my Man and I headed over to the Duke of Duckworth for a pint.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHcKstCNuYo8wc6aKvoNXKYpX5vlo29ehfhUEdR8gcVBEA74iRHP9Y-Hj6qUpF6Mcv_yv2de6LH-X6mf7K732GEKSAvWRKCsY4AAomQvpVOC62n8wp9eNngwB5WvcntFeiYTKzfuThYA/s1600-h/DSCF0275.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSHcKstCNuYo8wc6aKvoNXKYpX5vlo29ehfhUEdR8gcVBEA74iRHP9Y-Hj6qUpF6Mcv_yv2de6LH-X6mf7K732GEKSAvWRKCsY4AAomQvpVOC62n8wp9eNngwB5WvcntFeiYTKzfuThYA/s320/DSCF0275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187938617725527986" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">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!</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOb35bOYi0GTj3Q_OxtIBXF1F5Cras6ZezMsPF7HhK1JItOG32ktSxkCU4FjGjRNjN1G0BQW2xCTLcjwCBbLLpWNYXZLg0t68nNrx2zgQ-XMvjKNTZUSX6Bw4QaNzHUYpXanm4-PS8sLI/s1600-h/DSCF0284.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOb35bOYi0GTj3Q_OxtIBXF1F5Cras6ZezMsPF7HhK1JItOG32ktSxkCU4FjGjRNjN1G0BQW2xCTLcjwCBbLLpWNYXZLg0t68nNrx2zgQ-XMvjKNTZUSX6Bw4QaNzHUYpXanm4-PS8sLI/s320/DSCF0284.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187945399478888386" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">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.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">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.</span><br /><blockquote style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><pre><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >ODE TO NEWFOUNDLAND<br /><br />When sun rays crown thy pine clad hills,<br />And summer spreads her hand,<br />When silvern voices tune thy rills,<br />We love thee, smiling land.<br /><br />REFRAIN:<br />We love thee, we love thee,<br />We love thee, smiling land.<br /><br />When spreads thy cloak of shimm'ring white,<br />At Winter's stern command,<br />Thro' shortened day and starlit night,<br />We love thee, frozen land,<br /><br />REFRAIN:<br />We love thee, we love thee,<br />We love thee, frozen land.<br /><br />When blinding storm gusts fret thy shore,<br />And wild waves lash thy strand,<br />Thro' sprindrift swirl and tempest roar,<br />We love thee, wind-swept land,<br /><br />REFRAIN:<br />We love thee, we love thee,<br />We love thee, wind-swept land.<br /><br />As loved our fathers, so we love,<br />Where once they stood, we stand;<br />Their prayer we raise to Heaven above,<br />God guard thee, Newfoundland<br /><br />REFRAIN:<br />God guard thee, God guard thee,<br />God guard thee, Newfoundland</span><br /></pre></blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><p class="info"><em>Words by: </em>Charles Cavendish Boyle<br /><em>Music by: </em>C. Hubert H. Parry<br /><em>In use: </em>1907-1949 (as provincial song since 1980)</p> </blockquote>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-44166753227300914062008-04-08T19:44:00.008-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.199-04:00St John's - Day ThreeThe view from our window this morning. Foggy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcCo_AKVzQk4CXoO9DGjotm8r48todhidS8dS8BMkhg0dDNKVgPcnNL1PBhX5hxZ4giTcHtJPJ03B6XQMjv44-yQHqR8wnMTLIAjldMXXKSkGjTxKVen8LRn1jKG0MwxpoNKK1bOreRE/s1600-h/DSCF0250.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTcCo_AKVzQk4CXoO9DGjotm8r48todhidS8dS8BMkhg0dDNKVgPcnNL1PBhX5hxZ4giTcHtJPJ03B6XQMjv44-yQHqR8wnMTLIAjldMXXKSkGjTxKVen8LRn1jKG0MwxpoNKK1bOreRE/s320/DSCF0250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187210840006424786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At least it was warmer today - and not drizzling. I walked up to <a href="http://www.therooms.ca/">The Rooms</a> today, passing the <a href="http://www.stjohnsarchdiocese.nf.ca/basilica_history.asp">Basilica</a> on the way. The Basilica is the building that we saw from the Battery the other night, lit up on the hill across the bay - and The Rooms is the building next to it. It's an interesting parallel - the spiritual centre of the city, which would formerly have been the sole occupant of this prominent position on the skyline - now sharing the spotlight with the cultural centre of the city.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimKnk6IALDeuYiM8Ze3qOgnjyQ5_hOuB9Y73ehHa4Niu1kAfqzm2qqlmc3sAXHr-cs6jTpg2EqXCWF7uJIakalwUU2uHcWQwsvHF-PTucslvbVCXEcnlxpwFUiBzZtr7RcQbTIWu1HnQ/s1600-h/DSCF0254.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimKnk6IALDeuYiM8Ze3qOgnjyQ5_hOuB9Y73ehHa4Niu1kAfqzm2qqlmc3sAXHr-cs6jTpg2EqXCWF7uJIakalwUU2uHcWQwsvHF-PTucslvbVCXEcnlxpwFUiBzZtr7RcQbTIWu1HnQ/s320/DSCF0254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187212149971450082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcUH-UWrR7HBfiltMcQy0-kNgup0LOPtiU_NEI0gnff8mV_TxXTnu28E39vBSv21MSG0QP9oYhqAq5mxuRCYQ-cow9qMpXzLP-qtsqQufMW1bdmfA6mGIQWy7GU50pJNT6mUswjvJ_gQ/s1600-h/DSCF0255.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimcUH-UWrR7HBfiltMcQy0-kNgup0LOPtiU_NEI0gnff8mV_TxXTnu28E39vBSv21MSG0QP9oYhqAq5mxuRCYQ-cow9qMpXzLP-qtsqQufMW1bdmfA6mGIQWy7GU50pJNT6mUswjvJ_gQ/s320/DSCF0255.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187213331087456498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Rooms is a wonderful facility. Its design mirrors the "fishing rooms" where a Newfoundland family would have come together to process their catch, and so three main "rooms" combine to form the building on many levels: the museum, the archives and the art gallery. They are connected by broad staircases and encased in glass, with huge windows and skylights everywhere - and the most spectacular views of the city.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8e5sj7ZR_OjIgjpmIxjsWwIv8OUkHjkOvb_t1sk1Ew2uiiGkRQ0vKLOf1A4FQsdyLRZii8t0V2XKodeertlQqZyqDyE4sa0WgEL3RrAIaAEY4K0bIuduIE7HwpZ1M5sXJTpqBFd12tIM/s1600-h/DSCF0258.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8e5sj7ZR_OjIgjpmIxjsWwIv8OUkHjkOvb_t1sk1Ew2uiiGkRQ0vKLOf1A4FQsdyLRZii8t0V2XKodeertlQqZyqDyE4sa0WgEL3RrAIaAEY4K0bIuduIE7HwpZ1M5sXJTpqBFd12tIM/s320/DSCF0258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187215740564109570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I ate lunch on the fourth floor, where there is a little cafe overlooking a view of the Narrows. The menu was extensive and reasonably priced, though it didn't seem to offer a lot that was local, but on the very friendly waitress's suggestion I ordered the seafood bake. I am glad I did!! It was delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzplFy1RO6aQKCkZZ1RxB7ZJMDhnB1maoGW5DMRi9m7iDxOAx2SxT0tcJC4H9GNXwKjdfHndh7kPlHwFfth5cg4RbD35vIYPzFs9-xJMvpnySV2SE68RmsiJ-DImW0kVTD9fgxYTNrTUQ/s1600-h/DSCF0262.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzplFy1RO6aQKCkZZ1RxB7ZJMDhnB1maoGW5DMRi9m7iDxOAx2SxT0tcJC4H9GNXwKjdfHndh7kPlHwFfth5cg4RbD35vIYPzFs9-xJMvpnySV2SE68RmsiJ-DImW0kVTD9fgxYTNrTUQ/s320/DSCF0262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187217046234167570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The other diners seemed to be mostly retired folk (I keep forgetting not everyone is on holiday like me!) and a couple of businessmen. The place wasn't very busy, and it was so relaxing to linger over my second glass of wine, reading my book and looking out at the view.<br /><br />The gift shop was a bit of a disappointment, unfortunately. I never understand why they sell so much that is really nothing more than landfill and so little that really speaks to either the city or to the content of what the curators are doing in the museum itself. But I suppose people must buy the landfill, otherwise they would stop stocking it....in any case, I managed to find a few nice postcardy bits and pieces - though I haven't yet been able to find a post office!<br /><br />Had a nice leisurely walk back to the B&B and noticed a sign on the fence around the Anglican cathedral downtown, indicating they have a weekly organ concert tomorrow afternoon. Exciting!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RGW4_iH1h0hVOu_ajO_S8BCxuIo7pX5z8aN7ZsImR1wMp_SVJYQDpdp_YYJ7pQ8tO9_3c8P0TYdtvOuhiTYMPCOBJRPMW28wIcJhUMhu_tzsdpESX10SY_4ouRWRvok7twYpZbPjBGY/s1600-h/DSCF0266.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RGW4_iH1h0hVOu_ajO_S8BCxuIo7pX5z8aN7ZsImR1wMp_SVJYQDpdp_YYJ7pQ8tO9_3c8P0TYdtvOuhiTYMPCOBJRPMW28wIcJhUMhu_tzsdpESX10SY_4ouRWRvok7twYpZbPjBGY/s320/DSCF0266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187219666164218146" border="0" /></a>wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7914407078275988992.post-52126878900625049162008-04-07T23:45:00.004-04:002021-05-01T07:55:03.234-04:00St John's - Second NightA low-key evening tonight.<br /><br />The Italian and my Man returned about six-thirty and we headed out for a meal. Down on Duckworth Street we found The Indian Gate (a gateway to fine Indian cuisine in the heart of St John's), where we had a very aromatic and delicious dinner. So funny to be served Indian food by Newfoundlanders, but the chef must have been from India - the flavours and presentation were very authentic. As a nod to local palates, however, there was not a lot in the way of "heat".<br /><br />Back in our room by ten o'clock and asleep by eleven, after a quick dip into the Book of Knowledge - an elderly and encyclopediac volume that sits mouldily on our bookshelf, containing bits of arcane lore under such headings as "<span style="font-style: italic;">The Peoples of the Great White North</span>", "<span style="font-style: italic;">Why Does Boiling Make Potatoes Soft and Eggs Hard?</span>", "<span style="font-style: italic;">The Canadian Habitant</span>", and (my personal favourite) "<span style="font-style: italic;">Alcohol, The Enemy of Life</span>". I quote:<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><blockquote>The effect of alcohol upon a developing brain is as bad as it can be, and no young person who hopes to make a name in the world should touch it in any form.</blockquote></span>So this is where we have gone wrong!! I only hope it is not too late for my Man and I.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5AL68H2h_Az2zu2utqkoWHlDcgq2xsXoNVfNvmgtnxTegg967elecN1QdPxrJ6Rx-VC8qUR6paR0jyONoTM0N_Ky56Pjv4-YCg7qsYMsGebxdKK2-dXTdwwC23jvaACJ5C9m0shIdns/s1600-h/DSCF0249.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic5AL68H2h_Az2zu2utqkoWHlDcgq2xsXoNVfNvmgtnxTegg967elecN1QdPxrJ6Rx-VC8qUR6paR0jyONoTM0N_Ky56Pjv4-YCg7qsYMsGebxdKK2-dXTdwwC23jvaACJ5C9m0shIdns/s320/DSCF0249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186833565784176754" border="0" /></a><br />Walking back to the B&B.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLsz-TpVKG7FfNu43EZmmELz_V6InrpPksS8HuoskSKter-i7m1mNanjeSD5x_klG2Lz_6cPtgKy_pZKsQ6fJZ3PyBoptAr-1iI3PMFA-iUMK0SuCMwiekBHgfJGxkpf-4k_AV2RQ22M/s1600-h/DSCF0241.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLsz-TpVKG7FfNu43EZmmELz_V6InrpPksS8HuoskSKter-i7m1mNanjeSD5x_klG2Lz_6cPtgKy_pZKsQ6fJZ3PyBoptAr-1iI3PMFA-iUMK0SuCMwiekBHgfJGxkpf-4k_AV2RQ22M/s320/DSCF0241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186834055410448514" border="0" /></a><br />The Italian.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2u5VGgXk-bejyRevF05QJM3U8TbphjNeQofVkiIzJtERyUZfMtBM5ko0midSo7b9y1zKhlx0om4cwxJmSXIjAy06AEKZf7PjsUAD7PsC98gZAJQ8L8VawDc4kgoiBt6Ftniy6qi_X3nM/s1600-h/DSCF0240.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2u5VGgXk-bejyRevF05QJM3U8TbphjNeQofVkiIzJtERyUZfMtBM5ko0midSo7b9y1zKhlx0om4cwxJmSXIjAy06AEKZf7PjsUAD7PsC98gZAJQ8L8VawDc4kgoiBt6Ftniy6qi_X3nM/s320/DSCF0240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186834278748747922" border="0" /></a><br />Full of Indian food and tranquility.wot larxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10189388125425743669noreply@blogger.com0