edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center." Kurt
Vonnegut Jr.
Cape Spear, the easternmost point of North America is just out of sight
behind the hill across from St. Johns, you can't get much closer to the edge
than this, and the view is spectacular!
As the plane descended into St. Johns I was blown away by the view. This
place is gorgeous. We flew past Cape Spear and Signal Hill, St. Johns and
the harbor, houses painted a crazy quilt of colors, small lakes dotting the
landscape, and surrounding everything was the ocean with the sun reflecting
off it. It wasn't how I pictured "The Rock". My hotel room is high over the
harbor and I've probably taken 30 or 40 pictures so far of ships coming and
going, and the reflections of the lights at night.
So much for Newfoundland being all about booze.
Neither Dan nor Casey was there to greet me when I got off the plane, but I
tracked them down with a phone call. And found myself in the airport bar
less than 5 minutes after landing.
So much for the scenery. Back to the booze.
Driving to the hotel was like driving in Old Quebec. Everything is uphill or
downhill, and there isn't a straight road in the whole city. It's like they
let everybody build houses wherever they felt like and then built roads
around them. Every house is painted a different color, the color choice
being made on the basis of what will clash most with the colors picked by
your neighbors.
The wedding rehearsal seemed pretty standard until some guy who looked like
a dead ringer for the guy in the Herman comic strip started wandering around
on the altar during the middle of things. He was carrying an extension cord
and was looking for a place to plug it in. This led to much giggling amongst
the groomsmen as we speculated as to whether or not he would be doing this
during the ceremony. The giggling was helped along by the fact that we had
(of course) stopped at a bar "to get something to eat" on the way to the
church.
It was when we started doing the procession back down the aisle on the way
out of the church that we found out what the electricity was for when
Cheryl's brother started playing "Ode to Joy" on his electric guitar.
Normally it's done with violins, and is a relaxing, spiritually uplifting
piece of music. That's the way it sounded on the guitar, just with a
different flavor to it. Until the procession got part way down the aisle and
he did a change-up to a hard-core rock-and-roll version. He got to the end
of the song before we got to the end of the aisle and the priest called
out - and I kid you not - "Play Stairway To Heaven!".
I'm thinkin' we weren't the only ones who spent the afternoon in a bar.
Following the rehearsal, we headed for (no surprise here) another bar, that
coincidentally served food and had a great view of the harbor.
Then to the bar upstairs from the bar for Red Bull and Vodka.
The plan was to go back to the hotel and change before we headed out to
George street, with one stop on the way. The rest of the guys had to stop
and pay a visit to a friend of theirs. His name is Randy, he died this past
winter, and is buried in the military cemetery here. So it was that 8 of us
were standing in a circle, in a cemetery, after dark. Drinking Beer. At
first the mood was somber. Until the stories started. They all seemed to
revolve around a couple themes; Randy could run anybody into the ground and
not break a sweat, and could sleep through anything short of a nuclear
blast. Strangely, despite the fact that I was the only person there not in
the military, I didn't feel like an outsider as we stood there, piling beer
cans next to the headstone as they told their favorite stories about their
friend.
It was late by the time we got back to the hotel, and by the time we'd spent
some time in the hotel bar getting organized, Dan, Casey and I decided to
pass on the George Street crawl, and call it a night.
At least, I thought that was the plan. As we were getting on the elevator,
we met a bellboy who was carrying a large recycle bin filled with ice.
"That's mine." said Dan, "I have a treat for you in the room" Uh-oh. This
probably won't end well.
He got presents for all the boys in the wedding party. A bottle of Screech
(newfie rum, made from barrel wash, used crankcase oil and acetone) and
"Official Newfoundland Sou'Wester" rain hats. Cold Screech over ice doesn't
taste any better than warm Screech, but the 3 of us stumbling about the
hotel room with our bright yellow Sou'Wester's on, each of us clinging to
our own fifth of concentrated hangover was a sight I'll never forget. We're
going to wear the hats as we act as ushers at the wedding.
On my first day in St. Johns I was in 4 different bars, one of them twice,
drank beer in a cemetery, and choked down screech in a hotel room dressed in
a silly hat. Can't wait to see what the reception is going to be like.
