A reset in Eastport
I’ve been taking photographs of this bench — it’s on a cliff just around the corner from Sandy Cove, on Newfoundland’s Eastport Peninsula — for years now. We all have a happy place or three, and this is one of mine.
The bench overlooks the estuary that helps makes Eastport what it is. It doesn’t matter the weather — I went out in a soft rainfall once, and tend not to last very long when it’s windy — but I find it beyond relaxing to hike in from the road that straddles the beach, and just have a seat for a while.
Last Sunday, after joining family for a birthday celebration, Martha and I hit the road for Eastport, for a few days of unplugging. It’s always a favourite place to reset.
My family took me to Eastport when I was a kid. What’s not to love? A series of beaches to romp on, water sometimes warm enough to swim in, hillsides to explore and conquer. Getting sand over your ice cream? Nailed it!
When I grew up, Martha and I found it a beacon, especially after we became parents. Nick was only a baby in 2000 when Martha and her mother took a break for a few days.
We stayed in a variety of places, including the Doctor’s Inn, a bed and breakfast whose owners Bob and Georgina, became friends. It was such a favourite that Bob would let Nick, then just in school, help “serve” breakfast to guests. We also stayed in cabins around the town and neighbouring towns, and for some years now our kind friends Lana and Steve have allowed us the use of their home. Their generosity is boundless.
It’s familiar and wonderful: we pack some food to cook, a book or two, something nice to drink. We pack up cares and leave them at home. This year, I once again packed trunks, and once again, I never used them.
We’ve seen things change around the peninsula. Some of the attractions Nick loved during childhood are gone, like the paddle boats and petting farm. Bob and Georgina have both died, and their B&B is now a vacation rental. A coffee shop we loved is gone, and has been replaced at least twice. Whimsicals, a shop in Glovertown that had a restaurant with maybe one of the best harbour views I’ve ever seen, is much missed.
But change is part of the story, isn’t it?
This visit, we drove to Salvage for a pint at the Salvaje Longhouse, which opened up last fall. (The J in the name is stylized as a fish hook in the logo.)
We sat by the window, chatted with a friend who dropped by, watched some kids play with board games as their parents reached for the little play pieces that tumbled on the floor. (Been there, done that, buddy!) It was a lovely late afternoon vibe, and we saw the place fill up as visitors piled in for a feed of fish and chips.
Martha brought along her sewing machine on the visit, as she has before. We all relax in our own ways. We played some tunes, she made the squares that will form the spine of a quilt she will finish this fall, and I read in my chair.
Outside the house, we went on familiar hikes and beach strolls. Rather than feeling the same-old, same-old, it’s rejuvenating to tread along paths we’ve known before. Not unlike running into an old friend.
And, yes, that bench fits the bill, too.
Until next year.
