The ferry ride to Newfoundland was quick and luxurious. We skimmed along at 26 knots, running on all four engines for the five hour trip...
They had a bar, a good restaurant, computers, casino, a game room and a theatre. Our RV park was 28 kilometers north of the terminal. We arrived in the dark and fog and reset the odometer to zero, looking for our new home to show up at about 18 miles.
We found our home in the forest on a lonely stretch of highway 28 kilometers north of the ferry port. Our RV was invaded by dozens of little flies while we set up in the dark.
Yesterday we toured the Port Au Port peninsula, about a two hour loop.We stumbledupon the crash site of an American C-54 which hit a 1,000 foot mountain on November 12, 1944. Several of the soldiers aboard were killed on impact but a few survived. Mrs. Phred want to stop to take pictures of these furry creatures...we're not sure how Alpaca is spelled.
One of the survivors was found by a fur trapper and they went into a village that had a telephone. Several more of the survivors died in the hospital. You can sort of imagine heavy fog or snow and a bunch of soldiers and civilians (OSS?) on the way to England looking to refuel in Newfoundland. Some of the cottages here have odd yard art...we think it might be some sort of obscure French-Canadian thing.
We drove out on a promontory on a gravel road and found a lot of lobster traps, fishing cabins and lobster boats at the tip after about 20 miles of bumpy travel. We move on to Gros Morne National Park this morning.
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