GUNNER'S COVE, NFLD. -- I was sunbathing on Bella Hodge's deck, looking out at her spectacular view over Gunner's Cove, when a sudden whoosh of air announced the arrival of about a dozen humpback whales. For the rest of the morning, they frolicked in the foamy waves below, entertaining us with impressive blows and breaches.
Every morning, as I awoke at Valhalla Lodge, Hodge's bed and breakfast at the top of the Great Northern Peninsula in western Newfoundland, I couldn't wait to get outside to see if any whales -- or icebergs -- had arrived overnight. I had come here at the end of a three-day road trip up the Viking Trail, a drive that began in Gros Morne National Park and took me north along the Strait of Belle Isle, past dozens of fishing villages and long arcs of silvery beach lined with tuckamore and driftwood.
Blessed with such magnificent scenery, it's no wonder that the Viking Trail attracts visitors from every corner of the world. Travellers have spread the word on the Internet about Hodge's unmatchable partridgeberry pancakes and spectacular view. But her best plug came with the publication of The Shipping News,the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by E. Annie Proulx. Proulx was a frequent guest of Hodge's while she researched the book, and the two became fast and enduring friends. While Hodge taught the author all about the finer points of Newfoundland cuisine, Proulx adjusted to life on the Rock, and once took over operation of the lodge for a while.
"One time, I had to make an emergency trip to Goose Bay while Annie was staying with me," Hodge recalled. "I told her to send any tourists to other accommodations, and off I went to Labrador. But when I returned a few weeks later, Annie had the whole house full, making pancakes and carrying on with the guests as though she'd always done it."
In fact, Proulx enjoyed the area around Gunner's Cove so much that she bought a house there, just up the road from Hodge's. I had read The Shipping News before I arrived, but didn't want to admit to Hodge that I'd been expecting Newfoundlanders to be a seriously strange lot. In the opening pages of the book, Proulx describes Quoyle -- the novel's main character, who is Brooklyn-born but of Newfoundland descent -- as "a great damp loaf of a body. At six he weighed eighty pounds. At sixteen he was buried under a casement of flesh. Head shaped like a crenshaw, no neck, reddish hair ruched back. Features as bunched as kissed fingertips. Eyes the color of plastic. The monstrous chin, a freakish shelf jutting from the lower face." Yikes.
Like many Newfoundlanders, Hodge didn't necessarily see eye-to-eye with Proulx's characterizations of islanders as superstitious eccentrics with a taste for hard drink and strange sex. But it's Proulx's version of Newfoundland in the screen adaptation that's currently giving movie audiences their first taste of the region. Critics have widely praised the film, and even Proulx was impressed. Only time will tell whether it will inspire a new wave of tourists to explore the region's savage beauty.
Meanwhile, after a few days at Hodge's, my companions and I had fallen deeply in love with partridgeberries. Beyond the usual jam, we had tasted all manner of sweets, sauces and even wine made from the tart berries. When we asked where we might find some to take home with us, Hodge sent us off on a mad berry hunt around Gunner's Cove: "You never know, you might get lucky and find a patch of your own," she teased.
Visitors to Newfoundland soon discover that islanders are passionate about their berries. There probably isn't a Newfoundlander who doesn't know of a decent berry patch, but just try to find out where they are. Berry pickers are a secretive bunch, especially when it comes to the bakeapple, whose single salmon-coloured berry sits like a jewel amid a bouquet of greenery.
Always up for a challenge, we went for a hike along the cliffs, hoping to find a few elusive berries. The lichen- and moss-covered cliff tops were as soft as pillows underfoot, and to our surprise, we found blue flag irises, ivory mushrooms, bakeapple blossoms and Labrador tea plants growing like weeds. In the distance, a procession of icebergs were making their way down Iceberg Alley toward St. John's. Beneath us, a replica Viking boat was gallantly sailing toward an iceberg, with a full cargo of tourists training their cameras on the mountain of ice.
It reminded us of why we had come this far: A visit to L'Anse aux Meadows was our next stop.
