And I Will Walk 5,000 Miles Part 2

The wind was blowing a nice chilly breeze and the fog was rising from Port Aux Basques.  I was finally here!!  NEWFOUNDLAND!!! I was pretty senile by this point, only sleeping about four hours on a six hour ferry ride cramped into some pseudo fetal position in the seats.  For whatever reason, those of us without the $142 to spare for a cabin, couldn't sleep on the floor; so relegated to very uncomfortable seats and neck cramps was I.

It was probably the
adrenaline that set in, but when the ferry docked, I ran and started my car; poor thing I don't think was remotely ready for the cold that had settled in her gears.  The true weight of my situation didn't settle in until WHAM!!, the ferry landing ramp was released and we were free to go.  I slowly drove out examining the landscape, as if I had just landed on some foreign planet.  It had mountains, rivers and a narrow highway as far as the eye could see.

Ten minutes into my drive and realizing I had yet another 10-11 hours to go before reaching St. John's, reality set in: I was alone.  When I mean alone, I mean, alone.  No cell service.  No copilot.  Barely any radio stations and miles and miles of terrain.  Excitement then became mixed with some anxiety and fear.  I was on the last leg of my journey to my destination and I was at the point of no return.

Newfoundland, for those who may not know, is an island.... A rather big island at that.  During certain seasons of the year, you can grab I believe two other ferries from different locations on the eastern coastal mainland of Canada that take you closer to St. John's than the route I took; unfortunately for me, the only route open was the six hour boat ride and a whole day of driving.

It took me some time to get over my isolation anxiety.  On everyone of my zany trips, I've always traveled alone and it has never bugged me; the idea of being on an island, that for the most part seems desolate in between towns and cities alone with no company but the thoughts in my head however, hit me like a dump truck at times.  Over the three and half days it took me to get to my destination, I had much time to talk to myself and think... a little too much time honestly.

The road to the Eastern coast of Newfoundland was a drive of ever changing terrain.  Since I was already on the island and had a general idea of when I'd arrive in town, I decided to soak in the environment.  It. Was. Breathtaking.  The land seemed so untouched, so immaculat
e and peaceful.  During most of the trip, I felt like the only living person on the road; as if I was the intruder in this land of natural beauty.  You could roll the windows down to receive a chilly but refreshing welcome from the land while hearing the rivers run through the terrain like a heart pumping blood through the body.

I would frequently get out of my car and I swear the sound of my shoes shifting the gravel beneath my toes sounded to me like a symphony in disarray; it was I who was disturbing the general peace of this island.  I was the explorer who without ill-intent disturbed the natural flow of energy through this environment.  It was amazing how the further east I went, the lighter the sky got.  When I first pulled away from the port. the skyline looked like an epic battle was about to begin between the rain and sun; it continued on this way until I got more into the center of the Rock.

As I got further from the port I discovered a few towns along the way that I had to stop for to get gas and other road trip snacks.  Pertaining to the towns, I didn't know what to expect because Newfoundland seemed so immense and ripe with natural beauty.  For some odd reason, I was expecting them to be smaller.  To be honest, they seemed to be well proportioned.

As I got closer and closer to my destination, the sleet and rain had let up to reveal an absolutely gorgeous sunny view of the land; with the sun shining on me I continued my pursuit.  The low river terrain had given way to what seemed to me as huge mountains.  Higher and higher I drove, my engine whining from the elevation but never showing any sign of stopping, until I reached it: the moon!  Well not really, but the rock formations and rocky off street terrain sure as hell made you feel like you were there.

It was getting close to the early evening, and there I was, sitting on these lunar rocks watching the sun set.  It felt so interesting to watch the sun slowly waves goodbye to me while I sat on rocks that could've belonged to her lunar cousin.  Someone had already beaten me to the punch of sitting closer to the horizon, so I sat back and kept my distance so we could both enjoy this same moment together spiritually.  I was only about an hour or so away from my end game and the temperature was dropping again.  Climate it seemed was as ever fluid as water, at times the cold was tolerable, then it would snow, rain or hail, followed by clear skies.  Adjusting to the ever changing weather was something compared to roulette; you just really didn't know which way the weather would turn when you rounded the bend.

Speaking of bends, I finally made it over the last mountain top and I swear it felt like angels were singing!!  There it was!  St. Johns.... well the suburbs.  I arrived when the sun had already set and I was honestly surprised as to how big the city was.  If you include the burbs and other surrounding neighborhoods, St. John's is pretty sprawled out.  What got me laughing was the fact that I had to stop and get gas off one road only to find a, gasp! Wal-Mart!!!  It's true!  Nowhere is safe from this behemoth, not even an island as far east as Newfoundland.  The fingers of this conglomerate seem to reach everywhere!  I finally loaded up on gas, which if you don't know, is expensive as hell  (Remember that gas is converted into liters in Canada) and headed to downtown.  As my luck had it, it began to hail quite hard.  Here I was, my car straining to stop with the hail interfering with the tires, myself lost in a city with random one ways and few signs to guide me somewhere, and no way to get in touch with my couch surfing host.  After almost sliding right into the back of a small Ford, I decided enough is enough and pulled into a Tim Horton's (think of it as a Dunkin Donuts/Starbucks hybrid) to get a hot chocolate and use their wifi.

For an hour I sat in the store, sipping on my cocoa and waiting out the storm; I opened my couchsurfing app to see if my host had responded and to my surprise.... not one reply.  For a moment I thought that all the driving and sleep deprivation had gotten to me and I was hallucinating this potential train wreck and that some kind of email would magically reappear.  I closed and re-opened the app a few times, and even turned my phone on and off a couple times, but no dice.  I started to panic again inside my head; looking around I felt as if all the customers could hear the screams of frustration going on in my mind.  I had no idea as to why I hadn't heard back from my host, or for that matter, anyone on the site.  I didn't have enough money for staying in a hostel and knew absolutely no one; so I did the one thing I knew what to do: I broke one of my cardinal rules of traveling....