Where to from here -
Long drives aren't exactly extraordinary events for rural Newfoundlanders. Rather, they're a necessary part of daily routines when you live in isolated areas of the province where facilities are often regional. My home community of Savage Cove is a whopping 956 km from the capital making visits during midterm break a regular conquest of sorts. And it's not enough that you get there in one piece, often frequent drivers make themselves unattainable promises, enter unrealistic competitions. Anything, really, to starve off the boring.
Like, this time we will get there in less than 12 hours, only stop for bathroom breaks after 300 k, no junk food, definitely no McDonald's, unlimited coffee and loud music, I spy whenever necessary. All these strategies are acceptable possibilities when considering the long journey into night where moose and poor road conditions are forever obstacles. We're like road warriors from an area in constant conflict; we're the young drivers of the Canadian middle east where a thousand k is commonplace but still demands respect. So when it came time to pack up our apartment in Montreal and prepare for the big drive east, I was little concerned how my urban boyfriend would handle the voyage.
Nevertheless, it had to be done so we set off in our newly-acquired white mini van. A proper soccer mom car for a couple with no children - hilarious. Three beautiful days later we arrived on the rock no worse for wear though slightly dishevelled. My mind was buzzing with road trip observations like...
New Brunswick is just one long fence, a horribly boring drive that requires preplanned bathroom breaks as nothing is located on the highway. Nothing. This lesson was learned after a particularly tangly detour through the Gagetown military base. Also, you can have the exact same discussion and reach the same conclusion multiple times in one day. Me: I think the tires need re-aligning. Him: Yeah, we'll get someone to look at them when we get in town. Four hours later. Him: Yup, the van's definitely pulling a little to the right. Me: Yeah, totally! We'll have them re-aligned now before I head up the coast. Both of us pretending the entire time to know something about this hulking vehicle carrying us homeward.
But more importantly I noticed that all across Quebec and the Maritimes incredible care had been taken to preserve heritage structures in even the smallest of settlements and I was impressed. Beautiful turn of the century churches, barns and homes were maintained and are often still very much in use. The landscape had another worldly characteristic about it, as if we'd travelled back in time, as if we were driving through a Canadian made-for-TV movie set in another era. The benefits are obvious.
Our neighbour, Nova Scotia, has a flourishing tourism industry where some 40,000 jobs are a direct result of visitors to the province. Approximately 200,000 cruise ship travellers are welcomed in the port of Halifax every year and that's not counting the number of people who arrive by other modes of transport. A major reason for these impressive numbers is the upholding of traditional architecture, lending itself to a feeling of being transported to a long forgotten place. Modern lives are inundated with boundless advances in technology and overwhelmed with numerous modes of communication.
Is it any wonder that people are looking to escape to a simpler time? As of late, all facets of our lives have gone the way of our waistlines, ever expanding so that four bedroom homes barely hold our accumulated things. I understand how vacationing in smaller quarters would appeal to families who may live together without ever really living together. Certainly not living together the way our parents did, sharing bedrooms and taking shifts at the dinner table.
I often mourn the loss of these traditional structures along the Northern Peninsula. St. Mark's Church in Savage Cove, in particular. Mind you, we certainly have some marvellously maintained structures like Grenfell House in St. Anthony and Bennett House in Daniel's Harbour, but there is far more we can do to maintain the buildings that have supported us as a region.
The Northern Peninsula has just eleven heritage properties according to the Heritage Newfoundland website. Eleven! Six of which are located within Gros Morne National Park. I feel these numbers are entirely too low considering the contribution our area has made to the province of Newfoundland and Labrador over the last century. We can do better than that, show more respect to our forefathers and mothers who poured their blood, sweat and tears into building these communities along this raw coastline.
And I'm not saying people shouldn't build new homes. Not at all. It is in everyone's best interest that new structures be built and progress, be made but there is room for the new and the old. They can complement one another and further strengthen our region. Tourism dollars aside, the enrichment gained by honouring our heritage will encourage pride and confidence within area residents. Everyone benefits when we remain connected to the past, Newfoundlanders and Non-Newfoundlanders alike. It is our responsibility.
No one on the Avalon is going to prevent having churches, homes, slipways and the like torn down on the Northern Peninsula because, honestly, they're too busy taking care of themselves.
(Megan Coles is a writer originally from Savage Cove. She can be reached at megcoles@gmail.com).
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