Details, details.

So I was told this evening that my description of the trip to Bonne Bay (or India, as people have been asking) was inadequate. Honestly, I was just going for a play-by-play, but let's see what I can do. . .

I mentioned Grams. Gram, aka Mona, was the most hospitable a person could be after getting an extra two teens for the weekend. She was an absolute Newfoundlander nan, and I could tell we'd get along by-and-by.

Her home was wonderful with a little bity kitchen and beds to sleep eight. The wiring was visible so you could tell it was definitely older than a couple of years, but it made it all the better. She had her own wharf, and her own little row boat. It's the kind of home where you see whales from your window.

Gram's home was at the end of a forty minute long cul-de-sac, she was pretty much the last house on the road. The town itself was absolutely wonderful and continually reminded me of Bay Roberts, and sometimes Grey River. The Ol' Loft was a store which housed the wooded restaurant upstairs. It had -literally- bucket seats and wooden booths, the kitchen was downstairs and the food was brought up by the waitresses.

Meagan and Josh very much wanted to go out in the boat, but I was content to just sit on the wharf and fish. I was constantly trying to absorb the scenery around me. Norris Point to the north of me, the Tablelands to the east, and endless fjords to the west. I was amazed by the almost simple way people existed, something I didn't think happened anymore in our now urbanized Newfoundland.

I met Robodog, owned by two men who were having a hip-poppin' party that Grams was invited to. I saw a beautiful wooden plaque that I really regret not buying. I laughed countless times at the wavers on the Emm-Cat, the putting of fish guts on hooks, the attempt of turning the bay into a fan and even opening a liquor store on a Sunday to buy batteries.

The driving was surprisingly enjoyable through the rain, from Stephenville to Corner Brook I followed just one car. I stayed in its tracks the whole time and felt like it was guiding me. Once I got on the road with another person, I stopped noticing the weather and started defending my rights to the CD player. Driving home in the bright sun was surprisingly annoying. It was bright, but I was going too fast to open my window. My sunglasses were bothering me too, the more attention I gave them, the tighter they got against my head.

It was weird, although it was nice the whole time we were there, I was constantly freezing. It made for a confusing mind time, but I haven't been feeling well the last few days so maybe there's something there.

And now I leave you with this tidbit, showing you the true colours of my dear Meagan:

Sarah says: "I can't believe you smelled my clothes!"
Meagan says: "Is that weird?"