After some discussion in the morning, we confirmed our decision to stop heading north, and instead backtracked to the main highway and headed East.
Architect and chef had headed that way one day earlier, and had sent a few updates via text on things to see and do.
They recommended a detour up to a picturesque part of Newfoundland – Baie Verte and La Scie
After consulting the map, it was clear to me that we had to go – but not for the obvious reason of the recommendation.
Back in Sydney at the Trivia Night, the locals had been telling me about Canada’s smallest town, a place with a population of 4 or 6 depending on when you measured it. As you may surmise from the above map, Tilt Cove lies just south of La Scie!
I love it when idle thoughts and random bits of information somehow crystallise into a concrete plan!
So off we set – the first few hours doggedly retracing our steps through Gross Morne, and the surprising amount of roadwork that had been completed in the last few days (Seriously there was once stretch of at least 5 ks that had been completely resurfaced in this time!)
Back to Newfoundland’s culinary centre, Deer Lake, and then it was off to new territory.
When we eventually got to the turnoff to Tilt Cove, I was a little worried as though the sign only said 6 kms, it was down a dirt road. I wasn’t sure Mamma and the builder wanted to risk Vanastasia, and I would have been happy to go it alone, but without a word they turned off and headed towards our novelty destination.
15 mins later we popped up out over a hill to a view that didn’t really indicate this was Canada’s smallest town. Tilt Cove was once a booming mining town, but once the mine closed, population dwindled rapidly, with one small revival before falling back into decline.
CBC have a really good article with photos here so I won’t post mine. I urge you to read it. The current permanent population is 4 – Margaret Collins (who we met in her home grown historical museum), her husband, her brother and his sister – who are married to each other. They hold the title dof smallest town, despite their being smaller communities (real?) because they have a formal town council, with meetings and minutes. Margaret told us they did this because it gave them a little more legal protection should someone want to come and take over the land and kick them out.
The day we arrived it was Margaret’s birthday – she was being driven an hour or so to one of the nearby larger towns for a celebratory dinner with her family and friends. Not that she was that excited – it was clear that she and the other permanent locals thoroughly enjoyed their small piece of paradise and had little need for the outside world.
Mission accomplished it was time to leave Margaret to her preparations. A small donation to the museum later and quick review of the surrounds later (builder was keen on hiking out to the mine entrance that had been closed up), we were retracing our steps down the dirt road and back to the highway.
Our next destination was Shoe Cove where A&C had found a small hike up to a lookout tower overlooking the cove and the open sea. It was also where they very luckily saw the last couple of seconds of a breaching whale!
The hike was easy to find so we parked and headed uphill, around the corner, and onto the lookout. The hike isn’t really a hike – it’s mainly a well maintained set of steps that the locals have built, though it is steep, and it only takes maybe 15 mins – (10 if you don’t stop halfway a little out of breath!)
The start of the “hike”
What a sight greeted us. Stunning views overlooking the sea and looking back at the town. Obviously a little windswept, but on a sunny day, it’s a beautiful spot to just stop, breathe and take in the world.
Which we did! Despite our best efforts we didn’t sight across Moby or his kind, which couldn’t take the gloss of finding this magical place in Newfoundland’s wilderness.
Refreshed, and somewhat reluctant to leave, we finally headed back down as we had one more stint on the road to reach the town of La Scie, where apparently an iceberg awaited us.
This particular sojourn was short, and we quickly found ourselves at our destination. Initially there was a bit of faffing about, with builder and I trying to find the best place to spot the iceberg. Our first choice near the harbour breakwater wasn’t ideal, though a small chunk of ice had made it that far unattached).
So we headed up the nearby hill to the camping ground and lookout on the opposite side of the cove.
And WOW.
Ridiculous views yet again, and there, not more than a few hundred of metres off shore – my first ever iceberg. My photos don’t show it’s size too clearly, but it would be just under the size of a soccer field.
Builder and I took out time up here, but eventually dusk was approaching and we headed back down to where Vanastasia and Mama where parked – in a small semi cleared patch just of the main road, right by the water’s edge.
We were sitting in deck chairs, sipping wine and beer and eating chili hot off the campstove, when out of the blue one of the local ladies pulled up, said hello, and and asked whether we would like some fresh fish right of the boat as the boats had just come in from the day’s fishing,
After the usual polite, we couldn’t, you must dance we eagerly accepted the offer, and she took off. The three of us agreed that since were not able to pay for the fish (expressly declined), we would instead trade some of the leftover chilli – I’d made a decent sized batch so there was plenty to give. And our local benefactor had noted that it smelled great when she first came calling.
Twenty minutes the lady returned with a huge bag of freshly filleted cod, and despite her protestation we made her take the chili in return. Having already eaten, and planning on meeting the Frenchies the next day, we sealed the cod in 3 or 4 layers of ziploc bags, dropped them in the bottom of Mamma’s esky, covered them in ice and awaited to feast on them the next day.
We had one final delight that evening. Once evening had arisen, we where a few wines and beers in, merrily chatting away, when one of builder or Mamma I don’t recall which) suddenly cried out that there were UFOs off in the near distance. Quickly adjusting our eyes, upon further investigation it appeared that were instead an ethereal flock of chinese lanterns being released into the sky from just over the hill.
Mesmerised, we watched as they silently lifted off, much as flocks of birds murmurate, telepathically moving at the same speed and in the same direction. We watched until the last one finally winked out of sight, leaving us with a mixture of exhilaration, awe and peacefulness.
It was more than an appropriate note on which to head to bed and allow our minds to drift off to the sweet shores of dreaming and wonder.
