Miles so far 910
It's always disappointing to go to bed with a clear night sky above you and wake up to leaden skies and the threat of rain, but I did. By the time I got everything packed away the morning was nearly gone. However, I was in no hurry and was still getting used to where to stow everything to make it as compact as possible.
Riding north, the landscape gradually flattened out until the terrain was almost flat moorland on one side and rocky shoreline on the other. There were the dark watered lakes of Rocky Pond, Sandy Pond, Two Mile Pond and countless other smaller lakes and ponds. The small wooden houses of St.Paul's came and went, as did a particularly nasty bridge, all steel decking across it and very slippery in the light drizzle that started to fall. That horrible fine rain that covers your visor in a million droplets that just sit there, making it impossible to see. With the drizzle came a marked drop in temperature as well.
The Arches Provincial Park was a bit too close from where I stayed last night to warrant a serious look for a campsite so I carried on.
Daniels Harbour, Table Point, River of Ponds, Hawke's Bay and the port of St.Barbe were ticked off my map pocket mounted on the petrol tank in front of me. It was at St.Barbe that I hoped to catch the ferry to mainland Labrador in a few days time.
Deadmans Cove, Salmon Rock, Flowers Cove, Nameless Cove (good one that,) all passed by me and now I was searching for a cafe, hotel, B&B, anything for food and warmth. A cold mist descended and it was about 6.30, and only one B&B sign, and that was at Flowers cove some miles back. After another hour of nothing but wilderness and tiny fishing hamlets, I turned and headed back to Flowers Cove where I had seen the B&B sign. I followed several home made signposts into Flowers Cove and pulled up outside a nice looking modern wood and brick bungalow. After the usual mutual enquiries I had a warm bed for the night with an en-suite bathroom. It was now about 9 pm and any thoughts of dinner had long since evaporated. The landlady and I had a very pleasant chat over a cup of coffee and she asked if I had eaten. I replied that I had not, but it wasn't a problem.
"You're in luck," she said, "today I baked some bread, and there's some local butter and home made wild strawberry jam to go with it."
I beamed and woofed it all down. After a long hot shower, I snuggled up in bed listening to the sound of the rain beating against the window pane. I vaguely recall a sort of crashing sound at some point but was too cosy to worry what it was.
The B&B at Flowers Cove. (photo.$tromtrooper)
Miles at end of day = 1122
Tomorrow : Prelude to disaster
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