Possibly because of this CBC News article which discusses Sue, a friend of Alice in Norris Point, I dreamed up a possible bike trip for this summer. From the basic idea of "What is there more to see in Newfoundland?", I came up with the answer "Anse-Aux-Meadows and Red Bay". From those ideas, came the question "How do I get back to Montreal from said places?" A certain awareness of the various transportation options led me to the following idea:
Fly to Deer Lake and assemble Leonardo. Ride to Anse-Aux-Meadows. Ride back to St-Barbe and take the ferry to Blanc-Sablon. Ride to Red Bay and back. From Blanc-Sablon, take the Nordik Express to Rimouski. From Rimouski, bike to Trois-Pistols and take a ferry to Les-Escoumins. From there, ride to Jonquière from where I catch the train home.
I have done a high level scan of the relevant schedules and distances and I believe I can shove them into my three week holiday limitation, but who knows?
On a completely different note, I found out something new about my Grandpa in the last week. My Maternal Grandfather, may he rest in peace, is honoured for his contributions to skiing in Canada. One thing that isn't mentioned in that link was how part of his contribution to Canada's War effort was to train Canadian soldiers to ski. As it turned out, this wasn't necessary, but I think the effort stands to his credit. As part of his efforts, it was necessary for him to produce ski wax. As luck would have it, Canada's supplier of ski wax was Norway which the Germans had occupied. I am not sure where the recipe originated but suspect the Jackrabbit. In any case, Grandpa acquired one for ski wax which included shellac. The latter ingredient was sourced from records, some of which were obtained from my Aunt Lorna, very much against her will.
What I hadn't know was the intervention of the Police. It seems that Grandpa brewed up the ski wax on the stove of the lower level of the duplex where he (and his family) was living at the time. I don't know what the full list of ingredients for the ski wax was, but I can only imagine that the smell was, for the sake of argument, very strong. This drew the ire of the tenant or landlady in the unit above. She complained very ardently to my maternal Grandparents, and, despite assurances that it was for the War Effort, she exclaimed her resolve to report it to the police, calling my Grandfather a "Big bohunk". This insult is noting but utter inaccurate slander. A quick Google search gives the following definition of "bohunk": "a contemptuous term used to refer to an unskilled or semiskilled foreign-born laborer, especially from east central or southeastern Europe." For the record, professionally, Grandpa was a chartered accountant from Scotland and during the War, was an officer in the Canadian Army. When the police arrived, they not only accepted his explanation of the smell and reason for its source, but asked for the details of the recipe!
Please note that my sources for the above anecdote are the extant daughters of Grandpa who aren't old enough to have witnessed the event but probably heard it more than enough times to make it true.
