And I Will Walk 5,000 Miles Part 3

Ah the hot chocolate tasted good!  I guess after almost a half day of driving anything would taste great, but this cocoa hit the spot.  The hail continued to fall outside like marbles in the sky; for now I was safe indoors this little fast food chain joint, but I couldn't stay there forever.

I always say that everything good or bad that happens to me on my trips are all part of the adventure... and it's true!  If I wanted an easy journey where all I did was hang out in a comfortable hotel while enjoying the pool or spa, I'm sure my voyages would be that much smoother.  However I know that's not what I want; I know my spirit craves more and with it, adventure.  So that's how I looked at my predicament in the restaurant, all part of the greater picture which is my traveling to a far off land.

 With that being said, I took my phone and started opening up every social app I had.  I knew I had no money for a hostel, hell my Visa didn't even work at the time; I had to come up with a plan!  That's when I realized the generosity of the people that would surround me for the next week; I have never been around a place where good fortune rains from the heavens like St. John's.  After about 30 mins or so of searching online, I found a man who was able to give me a place to stay for the night.  Not only was I fortunate enough to get a surface to sleep on, but dinner in the form of a delicious soup was given to me, along with great conversation.  We spoke of many things, but what connected us I believe was the simple spirit of the traveler.  Him like myself, enjoys traveling and we spoke at length about our excursions.  So after traveling what totaled out to be three and a half days over mountains, through valleys, enduring sleet, hail, snow and rain, here I was in a house that wasn't my primary destination, speaking with a fellow backpacker over a bowl of soup.  I knew from that very moment, this trip was going to be interesting.

I awoke the next day and greeted my host and his roommates (an awesome bunch indeed), showered and grabbed my pack and left.  My goal today?  Explore!!!  Toss in finding a new place to stay for the next night, but that's all part of the exploration.  I had parked my car the night before on a major in town called Duckworth Street.  Even though I was told my car would be okay on a Sunday, I was still half expecting it to be gone that morning.  Chalk it up to living in Atlanta for way too long.  Thankfully my chariot was there and I just threw my pack in the seat, grabbed my day pack and headed on my way to see what I could get into.

My hike for that day was Signal Hill and the Battery.  For those who don't know, Signal Hill was a fortification that still stands to this day that was last used by the British in 1762 during the Seven Years War that signaled the loss of St. John's from the French.  If you were to walk up the mountainside (no matter what any Newfoundlander tells you, there's no way that's a hill) you'd notice that the port of St. John's is tucked behind a small opening of land.  From an aerial point of view, it seems that the earth forms an almost embrace around the harbor and the small channel of water one has to pass through is aptly called the Narrows.

Before heading up this "hill" I decided to look at the information billboard that said it was only a .8 km walk, roughly half a mile.  I looked at that and thought, what the hell, and headed up the side.  I can say with complete confidence, that there is no greater shot to your pride than seeing a 70 something year old man jogging right past you up a mountainside.  Here I was slowly making it up the mountain.  Did I say mountain?  Try two!  The higher I went, the thinner the air got.  The views kept me going, snapping one picture after another until it seemed that I had taken hundreds.  By the time I made it up the first mountain, it became apparent to me why so many people trekked up those same steps as I.  You could hear a pin drop a mile away, while the wind would blow its song of peace and tranquility in your ears; the air was just so clean.

By the time I started the last segment of that hike, I was ready to throw myself off the mountain!  After huffing and puffing my way past what seemed to be many an unfazed Newfoundlander (word to the wise: never call them Newfies!) I made it to Sig
nal Hill.  It was gorgeous and well worth the hour and a half it took to hike it up.  Half mile be damned, I later found out that had I decided to drive up to the Hill, it would've been a half mile; God knows how many miles I hiked to walk up the side of it.

After my long but victorious trek, I slowly made my way back down the mountain through a mix of smaller trails and my own hiking improv skills.  By the time I reached the ground, my legs were ready for me to sit.  Let me tell you something about St. John's.  Since it's the oldest British founded city, and to some, the oldest city in the American continent, the roads were never made for cars; they, as most cities in that time, were made for horse carriages.  That detail mixed with the facts the roads change names in a split seconds notice makes for some difficult navigating.  I would never fail to get myself lost everyday, whether it was through driving or walking.  After finally stumbling upon a coffee shop that had wifi, I jumped for joy!  I could get my drink AND start up my search for a place to rest.  This moment at the coffee shop again echoed that kind and generous sentiment I never failed to see in St. John's.  I had ordered a cider knowing that they took credit cards; I tried my Visa just to see knowing that it would fail and promptly took out my Amex.  To my amazement, Amex wasn't accepted and I just apologized to the clerk and hung my head a bit; the whole living off my credit card in a town that barely accepted it had it's moments of defeat, and this was one of them.  The manager looked at me and said, "Don't worry about it; it's on me.  You seem to be having a rough day."  With that he handed me my cider and I went and sat down with a look of bewilderment.  Have I just not been living in a generous city or environment this whole time?  People being kind shouldn't come as a shock, but it did to me; whatever the case it was a breath of complete fresh air.

Twenty minutes past and I was able to find another host for that night.  The couchsurfing app again was turning up no results and so I found another house across town that was willing to take me in.  I noted the distance in the shop (GPS wouldn't work without wifi) and asked for directions.  Two miles wouldn't be a big deal... 30 mins tops was what everyone kept telling me.  Two hours later and a few extra miles, I appeared at this host's home tired and just grateful to have found the house.  Apparently on my mini trek, the roads had changed names a couple of times and there I was again circling the same blocks over again because of it.

Well when I arrived at this maison, the host made me a sandwich and showed me where I could lay my pack, promptly explaining to me the layout of the city and how I could've missed a road that was so easy to find.  With that came a nocturnal driving tour of the city, particularly Signal Hill and Cape Spear.  What amazed me was that unlike in the states where certain monuments or buildings are considered strictly for tourists, in St. John's even citizens go to these same sites.  That also struck me as odd, but when you see the sheer beauty that the landscape and city have to offer, you'd understand why everyone, native or not, would visit these places.

After that tour, I crashed for the night and awoke to an overcast and just ugly day.  It was Rememberance Day, the equivalent of our Veterans Day.  I wanted to see the parade so I dashed into town, found a place to park and sought refuge in a wonderful little eatery called the Hummus Hut.  Because of the rain, the parade itself was still in question; all other towns were canceling theirs. So while I awaited that news, I chatted it up with the hut's owner while writing in my journal.  The parade did happen and was shorter than I had expected, but I ran outside and took whatever pictures my camera could get and ran back inside to warm back up.

Since the rain continued to pour down and I had finally gotten in touch with my original host, I spent the evening with another Newfoundlander who continued the generous tradition of showing me around town.  After enjoying a few hours of their company and knowledge of the city's history, I was dropped off at my car and headed to my host's home (getting lost along the way of course).

I walk into a tall but narrow home filled with laughter and people congregated in what seemed to be the living room.  At that moment one girl turns to me with a smile and says, "You know you're not leaving here now."

I just smiled and let myself in.