St. John's...The Biggest Small Town

I am not a winter girl. This is not news to those who know me well. I prefer open-toed shoes, tank tops, and a bead of sweat rolling down my forehead and on its way to a stinging encounter with my eyes. I understand other people's fascination with winter, but it simply isn't for me. I hate winter more when it breathes a cold last gasp at the end of June, just as summer is rounding into form.

That about sums up the weather today in St. John's. This small town that thinks it is a cosmopolitan metropolis, will continue having a difficult time drawing tourists if it persists on celebrating a cold weather Canada Day.

Our plan was incredibly simple today. Try and walk around and see as much of the downtown core as possible until sheer exhaustion from lack of sleep over the past 36 hours put us asunder. And walk we did. Up and down quaint streets that have a Benjamin Moore paint store quality to them. I love the jellybean row houses. What a magnificent way to make this gem of a capital city stand out from the others.

St. John's reminds me of San Fransico. The harbour and the massive cargo ships that come in and out of port each day are part of the fabric of life. Every day here, several of the ships sing to each other by blowing their horns at different pitch levels. Apparently they are actual songs, but you could have fooled us. It sound more like whales mating, but what do I know? There is another aspect of St. John's that is reminiscent of 'Frisco...the fact that many of the streets are at 45 degree angles. Between the bitter chill in the air and the workout of my glutes, I could almost swear that I was on the left coast instead of the east. We are going to be sore tomorrow.
We capped the afternoon with a trek up Signal Hill. Viewing the city from this vantage point almost made the lower body workout worthwhile. The mist and fog that was rolling in off the water made for an ethereal scene reminiscent of fairy stories.

Dinner was at a traditional Irish pub, Bridie Malloys. Honestly, if I didn't think I might fall over, we would have stayed for the pre-Canada party on George Street. Of course I might have required a parka for the occasion.
Sleep and resting our weary bodies is on the menu for this evening. Back at it tomorrow.

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