At home on the rock.
|Clapper Rock, Conception Bay, Newfoundland.|
|Sundown, Bell Island.|
Maybe it was because I ate proper fish and chips (Dicks's in Wabana, Bell's Island) for the first time since emigrating to Canada two years ago and was introduced to fish and brewis (pronounced bruise) which is fish, hard bread and small cubes of fatty pork called scrunchions. Granted the mushy peas were missing but I was in heaven. Cod's tongues were another matter. What would they have said if they could have spoken?
Also is it just me or do Newfoundlanders have a bit of a Geordie accent. I know they say things like, it took wuh a long time to walk there. The word wuh means us of course. Isn't that obvious?
Like North-East England the Newfoundlanders are noted for their friendliness, especially if you're female and walking alone down George Street of an evening, but most of all I probably felt at home because they were speaking English. A little rest from my painful attempts to learn French which restart soon in Montreal.
Lovely, tell yer mudder, as they say in NFL.
|Wabana beach, Bell Island.|