Life. It’s that thing that pulls you away from your blog for a few months.
But I didn’t want to not wrap up my stories of my little jaunt to NewfoundLAND, especially since, five months after the trip, I still find myself thinking often and fondly of the place.
Okay, it’s worse than that. Five months later, I still think regularly about running away to live there. Not that I have any transferable skills. I can’t imagine there’s a great, big, screaming need for entertainment lawyers in Conception Bay South. But hey, you never know. Maybe I could pick up a gig as Buddy the Puffin:
Seriously, someday I"m going to be a mascot. World's. Best. Job.
But anyway, how can you not love a place where, after you return safely from your iceberg tour, and not so safely from yet another encounter with MAGELLAN (which tried to turn me the wrong way down a one way street...more than once), you follow the instructions of no less than a New York Times travel writer and stop by the the local ice cream shop:
Now come on, even if you don’t love ice cream – and if you don’t, are you human? – you’ve got to love the looks of this place and you have to love even more that, like every ice cream and coffee bar I saw in St. John's (except for one mercifully empty Starbucks), it's not a chain shop.
And if you do love ice cream, congratulations for being human, and take a gander (ten points for anyone who understands that’s a NewfoundLAND reference) at this:
That, my friends, is Chocolate Brownie Cheesecake Ice Cream.
That, my friends, is worth the price of the whole trip in and of itself.
But it was time to head off to Mass – yes, I still go to Sunday (or Saturday evening) Mass, wanna make something of it? -- so I scarfed down the ice cream and headed off toward…well, you can probably tell from this picture where I was headed:
If you can’t, you’ve been in New York too long, you irredeemable heathen, you.