All posts by pierrev

Here and There on the Avalon Peninsula

(Pouch Cove, Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada)

The city of St. John’s dominates life on the Avalon Peninsula.  We’ve visited a couple of times already and we will pass through the city a few more times before returning home.  It is known for its colourful houses, some of which appear in the photo at the top of this post.  It’s not just one street:  you see these all over the downtown core.  Some of the newer buildings in the suburbs are also being built in the same style.

Gower Street in downtown St. John's
Gower Street in downtown St. John’s

Driving in St. John’s can be a challenge.  It’s an old city and sometimes the sightlines and merging streets can take you by surprise.  However, the scariest part is the steepness of the streets that descend to the harbour. You need very good brakes here…and you need to check them often.  I can’t imagine what it is like to drive here in the winter when there is snow and/or ice on the roads.

Massive rhododendrons at the botanical gardens of the Memorial University of Newfoundland
Massive rhododendrons at the botanical gardens of the Memorial University of Newfoundland

We squeezed in a visit to the Botanical Gardens at the Memorial University of Newfoundland.   This turned out to be a huge facility:  not just a “traditional” botanical garden but also a well-annotated series of trails through boreal forest and pond environments.  You could spend a few hours here if you wanted to see everything.

We also visited the Johnson Geo Centre located “inside” Signal Hill.  The structure itself is probably worth the cost of admission alone; it’s difficult to imagine how they blasted so deeply into 500 million year-old rock to build it.

Crowd assembling at Middle Cove for the rolling of the capelin
Crowd assembling at Middle Cove for the rolling of the capelin

While the focus at the Geo Centre is clearly on geology, we focused on two aquatic themes:  the ill-fated journey of the Titanic and the journey to the Mariana Trench (the deepest place on earth).  In hindsight, it is surprising how many warnings the Titanic received (and ignored) about treacherous iceberg conditions in the North Atlantic.  The various warnings are all on display at the Geo Centre.  While most people are familiar with the story (from the movie, if nothing else), it is of course more intense when you have just seen icebergs off the very same coast where the Titanic sank.

The crowd is jostling for the incoming capelin at Middle Cove
The crowd is jostling for the incoming capelin at Middle Cove

We also saw a 3-D movie chronicling the journey of James Cameron (the same guy who directed the Titanic movie) in a special sphere to the bottom of the Mariana Trench…almost 36,000 feet below sea level.  While th 3-D effect seemed a little corny at first, it ultimately proved to be well-suited to a documentary picture.

A big event around here is when the “capelin are rolling”.  These small fish periodically wash ashore in huge numbers; it is a highly anticipated (and free!) opportunity to harvest a lot of fish.  It is particularly impressive in the darkness, as the fish are iridescent.  I took a few pictures at Middle Cove, where locals and visitors alike were laden with nets and buckets, jostling for the best position.  Although we didn’t stay long enough for the capelin to roll, we did get a strong sense of the excitement.

Pouch Cove at night
Pouch Cove at night

We generally end each day with a walk around our home base of Pouch Cove.  It is very refreshing, as the last few nights have been well below 10’C even before considering the effect of the coastal wind.   While I brought shorts along, I don’t think I will need them at all on this trip.  We are both enjoying change from the summer heat and humidity in Kingston.

Journey to the Edge of Canada!

(Pouch Cove, Newfoundland & Labrador, Canada)

The year of Canadian travel continues. After visiting the western provinces of Saskatchewan and British Columbia earlier this year, I am now at the easternmost fringe of Canada. We’ll be based in Pouch Cove (pronounced “pooch”) for the next few days before moving on to the international portion of our journey. More on that later…

The restaurant scene on the west end of Duckworth Street, St. John's.
The restaurant scene on the west end of Duckworth Street, St. John’s.

I haven’t been to Pouch Cove since late 2007.  Even in that short period of time, however, there has been a lot of development on the road between St. John’s (Newfoundland’s capital and largest city) and Pouch Cove. Fortunately, Pouch Cove itself remains more or less the same…there are no big-box stores out here yet!

I was hoping that we would see see some icebergs drifting by, as this part of the province is in “Iceberg Alley”. An even bigger bonus would be seeing some whales. It’s the right time of year for both of these massive phenomena but everything depends on the weather, wind direction, etc.

A large boat passing through "The Narrows", as seen from near the top of Signal Hill
A large boat passing through “The Narrows”, as seen from near the top of Signal Hill

As it turns out, we didn’t have to wait long.  Thanks to an expert’s referral to an “Iceberg Tracker” website, we discovered that icebergs had been sighted near both Signal Hill and Logy Bay.  After a simple but enjoyable lunch at an Afghani restaurant called “Afghan Restaurant” on Duckworth Street in St. John’s, we drove to the top of Signal Hill.

First glimpse of my first iceberg - as seen from near the bottom of Signal Hill
First glimpse of my first iceberg – as seen from near the bottom of Signal Hill

Signal Hill towers over the Atlantic Ocean:  this is where Marconi received the first transatlantic wireless transmission in 1901.  Despite the beautiful view, no icebergs were visible.  However, my inner goat got the best of me and I decided to hike down from Signal Hill to the Atlantic Ocean.  It is a very steep trail and most people looked exhausted upon returning.  I was not deterred:  for some reason, this was something I really needed to do.

The Narrows (with iceberg in the distance at far left)
The Narrows (with iceberg in the distance at far left)

After about 15 minutes of cautiously descending, I finally understood why “the call” was so strong:  the iceberg was there, out of sight of the crowds at the top of Signal Hill but visible to the few who dared descend to the ocean.  If you’ve never seen an iceberg before, I can tell you it is a humbling experience.  Even though this one was a couple of kilometers away, it still looked huge.    When you consider that about 90% of an iceberg’s mass is located underwater, it is even more impressive.

The rugged Atlantic coast, near Middle Bay
The rugged Atlantic coast, near Middle Bay

Now having an appetite for icebergs, we drove to Logy Bay to see if the other one was also visible.  We didn’t have to work very hard:  we saw it about 30 seconds after leaving the parking lot (see photo at the top of this post).  This one was much closer and therefore appeared much bigger.  It also put on a show, as we heard a loud boom and then saw smaller pieces on either side.  It had “calved” right before our eyes!  Our whale cousins must be impressed by icebergs too, as we saw whales breaching several times just to the east of the iceberg.

Iceberg in the Atlantic Ocean, at Logy Bay
Iceberg in the Atlantic Ocean, at Logy Bay

Seeing these icebergs was a great way to start our Newfoundland visit…we’re really looking forward to seeing more of this unique part of Canada!

Travel Flashback: Unusual Sights in East-Central Alberta (2013)

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

I took a lot of pictures at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village; I’ve included a few more here (including the picture above) that weren’t in my original post on that fascinating site.  There are many other things to see east of Edmonton, however.

The giant sausage monument in Mundare, Alberta
The giant sausage monument in Mundare, Alberta

Near Vegreville and its giant Pysanka, there is another rural community with a huge monument.  Mundare is neither as large nor as famous as Vegreville but it honours its roots with…a giant sausage!   It sounds a little peculiar but the biggest business in town is indeed Stawnichy’s Meat Processing, right on the main street of Mundare.  There was a substantial Polish and Ukrainian population in the area so Woytko Stawnichy established a small grocery store here in 1959 with one small sausage smoker.

Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village
Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village

Over time, the sausage business prospered and became the focus of the Stawnichy family business.  To better service its loyal customers who now live and work in the big city,  there is even a Mundare Sausage House (and the associated Uncle Ed’s Restaurant) in the provincial capital of Edmonton.  However, the manufacturing facility and the heart of the business remains in tiny Mundare.  We didn’t go deep into the facility but were given some “Stawnichy’s Sausage” pins as souvenirs.  A tip and/or a warning, depending on how you feel about such aromas:  even the reception area smells strongly of sausage.

The Hilliard Hotel - formerly located in Hilliard, Alberta, and now in the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village
The Hilliard Hotel – formerly located in Hilliard, Alberta, and now in the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village

I would have loved to see more of the giant “monuments” in Alberta., such as the world’s largest pierogi in Glendon, the world’s largest badminton racquet in St. Albert, the world’s largest bee in Falher, the world’s largest beaver in Beaverlodge, or the world’s largest golf tee in Trochu.   Seeing all of Western Canada’s strange structures could easily form the basis of a bizarre road trip.  As we needed to return to our home base in Camrose that evening, we reluctantly started to head back via the town of Viking,

Entrance to the "Viking Troll Park" in Viking, Alberta
Entrance to the “Viking Troll Park” in Viking, Alberta

Most Canadian hockey fans will recognize Viking as the home of the Sutter brothers.  Incredibly, six brothers from the Sutter family all went on to play professional hockey in the National Hockey League.   While Viking recognizes its claim to fame, the town is extremely quiet and otherwise typical of many other farming communities in this part of the province.  The name “Viking” comes from the large number of Scandinavian immigrants who settled here.   There is even a “Viking Troll Park”, pictured above.

Modern grain elevators at Viking, Alberta
Modern grain elevators at Viking, Alberta

In our ongoing mission to support independent restaurants, we found ourselves at the “Viking Burger Queen” for dinner.   It was by no means fancy but we quite enjoyed chowing down on some substantial pizzas after a long day on the road.

The "Viking Burger Queen" in Viking, Alberta
The “Viking Burger Queen”  (and part of our tank/truck) in Viking, Alberta

As I’ve mentioned in some of my previous posts, we are about to head out on another adventure.   We are visiting one of the extremities of Canada but will also be visiting another country during the trip.  Notwithstanding the very rough sailing experience described in one of my recent blogs, we will be braving the open seas once again to make this an international trip.  It just might be the strangest international trip you can make by boat from Canada.

Intrigued?  I expect to be posting a little more frequently over the next couple of weeks, although that will naturally depend on the availability of Internet access.   Stay tuned!

Travel Flashback: The Ukrainians in Alberta (2013)

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

After visiting the Northwest Territories, we stopped off in Alberta to visit family and do some wandering in the less-touristed areas east of Edmonton.

We had reserved a mid-sized rental car but we were in for a surprise when we arrived at the Edmonton Airport…there were no mid-sized cars left.  Our choice: a jeep or a “mid-sized” pick-up truck. As we rather like the protection that doors offer, we opted for the mid-sized truck.  “Mid-sized” for Alberta, perhaps, but absolutely gigantic to our urban Ontario eyes. Anyway, we certainly felt safe in what we affectionately called “the tank”.

Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village
Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village

Having a vehicle allowed us the luxury of seeing some small-town sights:  public transportation is not terribly well-developed in Canada and rural Alberta is no exception.  On our first full day with the truck, we visited two Ukrainian-themed sights:  the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village, just east of Elk Island National Park, and the town of Vegreville.   We also visited some other small towns but I will save those for future posts!

This would have been from the very early days of Ukrainian settlement in Alberta
This would have been from the very early days of Ukrainian settlement in Alberta

We spent several hours at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village.  It is a collection of historic buildings from all over eastern Alberta that have been moved to a single location.  It is like you are in a typical Alberta village from the early twentieth century that has a sizable Ukrainian immigrant population.

It’s not just a bunch of relocated buildings, however.  Most of the buildings are “inhabited” by role-playing guides.  We could actually talk to the shopkeeper, the sergeant at the R.C.M.P. detachment, and the labourer at the grain elevator (see photo at top of post)…all of them remaining in character (and even speaking with Ukrainian accents, where appropriate) throughout.

A building supply store from the past (note the Ukrainian text) at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village
A building supply store from the past (note the Ukrainian text) at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village

The churches were anticipated highlights, of course, reminding us of what we had seen in Finland and Estonia the previous summer.  However, we were equally as impressed by a couple of buildings on the outskirts of “town”.  One was a sod house, being an immigrant’s first Canadian home, while the other was a slightly sturdier and roomier house that might have been an immigrant’s second Canadian home.

Sod house at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village
Sod house at the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village

Being inside the sod house was a real revelation for us.  Until then, it had been very difficult to visualize what immigrant life was like in Canada one hundred years ago:  most buildings surviving from that era belonged to established and relatively affluent Canadians.   Surviving in such a dark and damp house must have been incredibly challenging.  And we saw it in the summer:  how would it have been during the frigid Albertan winter with so little daylight?

A grocery store specializing in products for the Ukrainian community
A grocery store specializing in products for the Ukrainian community

After a lunch of perogies, sausage and cabbage, we drove east along the Yellowhead Highway to the town of Vegreville.  Small Alberta towns are known for their oversized “sculptures” that reflect the special features of that community.  Vegreville had a substantial Ukrainian population, so the decision was made to commission a massive Pysanka (Ukrainian Easter Egg) as part of the R.C.M.P.  Centennial celebrations in 1974.

The world's largest Pysanka (Vegreville, Alberta)
The world’s largest Pysanka (Vegreville, Alberta)

The Vegreville Pysanka is quite famous – it has even appeared on Canadian stamps and been visited by Queen Elizabeth II.  But it’s not just big:  it moves!  It also was quite a technical accomplishment, as the design was the first computer modeling of an egg.   While we didn’t stay in Vegreville for very long, it was still a nice way to “cap” our Ukrainian immigrant experience.

My next blog entry will focus on some other highlights (though not necessarily famous ones) of our Alberta visit.  In the meantime, we are busy planning for our international journey in July!

Travel Flashback: Andermatt 2012

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

A couple of months ago, I wrote about skiing in the famous Swiss ski resort of St. Moritz.  We did it on the cheap by staying in a rather “rustic” pension in the nearby village of Celerina.  Seeking even more Alpine fun, a couple of us moved on to the remote village of Andermatt for some additional skiing.

Andermatt could not be more different from St. Moritz.  No champagne and caviar: everybody was here to ski.  A lot.  Andermatt is one of those smaller-scale resorts that attracts hard-core skiers because of the extensive off-piste opportunities.

Pausing halfway between Andermatt and Sedrun
Pausing halfway between Andermatt and Sedrun – clearly having a miserable time in the March sun

How hard-core were the skiers here? We’re usually among the first on the slopes, but here we never saw anybody else at breakfast. The breakfast room opened at 7:00 a.m. and everybody was out of there by 7:15 a.m. when we arrived.

Although the total number of lifts and pistes wasn’t on the same scale as Zermatt, for example, the vertical drop was still huge. It was also possible to ratchet over to the nearby resort of Sedrun, as it was included in the same lift pass.

You can ski right through real villages here!  This is just above Sedrun.
You can ski right through real villages here! This is just above Sedrun.

Whether we were in Andermatt, Sedrun, or somewhere in between, we never had to line up for the lifts.  I didn’t see too many day trippers here:  it’s just a little too far from big cities, at least by central European standards.  With no crowds, it was relatively easy to ski every single marked piste in the combined ski areas…and then return to our favourites over and over again.

Figuring out the best route down - high above Andermatt on the Gemsstock
A mock-serious moment high above Andermatt, scoping  out the best route down from the top of the Gemsstock

We also saw a lot of unusual things.  One fellow (who, like a number of the skiers here, was a real individualist) brought his dog with him on the chairlift.  That was cute, although I wondered how he would ski while carrying the dog.  The answer:  his dog RAN down the pistes!  I’ve never seen anything like it.  It was a fairly large retriever and he just took off after his swift-skiing owner all the way down.   I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog that happy.  He had the goofiest grin on his face as he jumped into his owner’s arms at the bottom of the next lift. In a smaller resort like Andermatt, this kind of thing can happen.

The narrow main street of Andermatt:  lots of snow even in mid-March!
The narrow main street of Andermatt: lots of snow even in mid-March!

The town itself was pretty sedate, especially after the slopes had closed for the day:  it was nothing like the pumping party scene you might find in the larger Austrian resorts.   I remember how loud the squeaking snow sounded as we walked back to our hotel at night.  You could see thousands of stars in the sky and really feel like you were “off the grid”.   This was also one of the few Swiss resorts where we could afford a hotel room with our own bathroom.

The bottom of the piste...and our hotel in Andermatt!
The bottom of the piste…and our hotel in Andermatt!

Staying here for an entire week here might be pushing it, unless you hired a guide to explore the back country.  However, as you can probably tell from the pictures, I had a blast being a scruffy powder hound here for a few days…an enjoyable contrast to the Belle Époque elegance of St. Moritz.

Travel Flashback: Verona, Italy 2013

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

Walking through Verona, Ontario reminded me that I recently enjoyed a visit to the “original” Verona in northern Italy. I hadn’t planned to visit Verona but it was the closest airport to Val Gardena (where we were about to ski) and the rest of our ski posse wasn’t flying into Verona until the next day. Would we be able to spend 24 hours in Verona? Easily!

For many English speakers, Verona is familiar because of Shakespeare. There are “The Two Gentleman of Verona”, of course, and there is also “The Taming of the Shrew”. However, it is probably best known as the location of “Romeo and Juliet”.

"The" balcony at Casa di Giulietta in Verona, Italy
“The” balcony at Casa di Giulietta in Verona, Italy

Yes, there is a courtyard where you can wander in and see Juliet’s house (La Casa di Giulietta) and Juliet’s balcony.  Interestingly, Shakespeare was not the first person to write about Romeo and Juliet: the first version was written by Luigi da Porto in 1530.  There is actually some historical basis for the story, as there were in fact two feuding families (the Capelletti and Montecchi, rather than the Capulets and Montagues) who lived in Verona at the time.

The Verona Arena is right in the middle of downtown Verona
The Verona Arena is right in the middle of downtown Verona

Whether La Casa di Giulietta has any true historical connection to Shakespeare’s play is extremely questionable…but it certainly looks like a proper medieval balcony in a courtyard. And, for true romantics, it is possible get married here: civil ceremonies are performed on Mondays, when the house is closed to tours.

Sunset at the Verona Arena
Sunset at the Verona Arena

For me, however, the highlight of Verona was its Arena.  It dates back to 30 A.D. and is the third largest of its kind (the Colosseum in Rome is the largest).  It doesn’t look that large from the main piazza but that is partially the result of a sinking structure…or a rising city.   Once we got inside, the true scale was revealed.

A hidden corner of downtown Verona, seen from just inside the walls of the Verona Arena
A hidden corner of downtown Verona, seen from just inside the walls of the Verona Arena

Walking around the tunnels was somewhat eerie, as I thought about how much history had played out here in the two thousand years since it was built.  The lower levels of Rome’s Colosseum were not accessible during our visit there in 2014, so I am really glad that I had the chance to explore the structure in Verona.  It also was much less crowded than the Colosseum…and we could climb all over the place as it is still used for special events.

View across the Adige River in Verona
View across the Adige River in Verona to Castello San Pietro

Many operatic performances (featuring legends such as Maria Callas) have taken place here but lately it has become a popular location for concerts by rock’s aristocracy.  Recent concerts have included Pink Floyd, The Who, Paul McCartney, Sting and Peter Gabriel, to name a few.  The Arena could accommodate 30,000 spectators when it was first built but for safety reasons the capacity is considerably less today.

Via Mazzini, in downtown Verona (also visible on right side of the photo at the top of this post)
Via Mazzini, in downtown Verona (also visible on right side of the photo at the top of this post)

There’s much more to Verona than just the Arena and Shakespeare.  We climbed up a small “mountain” for views over the city and found ourselves dodging more than one Roman relic.   Even walking through the relatively new shopping district at dusk was magical:  the white marble streets (just like in Dubrovnik) lent a special glow to the evening.

While there is plenty to see here, Verona in March was not overrun.  At this time of year, there seemed to be a nice balance between real Veronese life and happy tourists.  Life felt good here:  while I may not return to Venice or Milan anytime soon, I can see myself making an effort to get reacquainted with the “original” Verona.

Return to the K&P Trail

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

Last year, one of my posts was about hiking on the K&P Trail north of Kingston. This old railway line has been converted to a recreational trail and we are continuing our attempt to hike its entire length.

We’ve managed to cover two more segments of the trial since my previous post.  We have now walked all the way from Kingston to the northern edge of the village of Verona (and back).

View of the K&P Trail from Boyce's Road in Hartington
View of the K&P Trail from Boyce’s Road in Hartington

We had low expectations for the portion leading north from Hartington.  However, after a not-very-tranquil segment near Highway 38, the trail plunged into wilderness.   Following a dramatic rock cut, we began to see all kinds of interesting wildlife.  First up was an active beaver population:  I didn’t act quickly enough to get a photo of a diving beaver, but I then spotted the unmistakable evidence of  very recent beaver activity (see photo at the top of this post).   From then on, our eyes were furiously scanning for signs of wildlife.

Many turtles on a log, as seen from the K&P Trail south of Verona
Many turtles on a log, as seen from the K&P Trail south of Verona

While we didn’t see any other beavers, we did see lots of gnawed trees….and a lot of turtles.  We saw massive lines of turtles sunning themselves on fallen trees.  Once, we even saw an unusual turtle-snake interaction…eventually,  the snake gave up and left the turtle alone.   Although they never got too close, birds of prey were also circling above us with rather unnerving frequency.

Mysterious Christmas tree, north of Hartington
Mysterious Christmas tree, north of Hartington

There was the occasional sign of human  interaction here:  for reasons unknown, somebody decided to put Christmas ornaments on a tree beside the trial.  We almost walked right past the tree without noticing.  Since then, however, we have been speculating about why this happened.  If anybody knows the story (the tree was no more than 30 minutes’ walk north of Hartington), let me know.

Close-up of a pair of turtles
Close-up of a pair of turtles

Our second segment took us from just south of Bellrock Road to just north of the village of Verona.  It was quite hot and we didn’t feel like pushing ourselves too much.  As part of the trail is actually on one of the streets of Verona, it also didn’t have quite the same ruggedness as the previous segment.

Rock cut north of Hartington
Rock cut north of Hartington

However, one of the advantages of traveling through a village is that you can take refuge from the hot weather.  After finishing our walk, we stopped in at a local trail-side restaurant called “Martha’s Place” (which we used to know as the “Bravo Restaurant”).  Pulled pork appeared in several different forms on the menu, so I figured that it must be a specialty.  I enjoyed the pulled pork sandwich very much, even though it was one of the messiest things I have ever eaten.  There was sauce everywhere:  I nearly got some in my eyes.

View of Hardwood Creek from the K&P Trail, just south of Verona
View of Hardwood Creek from the K&P Trail, just south of Verona

While Verona is nowhere near the size of the “real” Verona (which is coming up soon in one of my Travel Flashbacks!) in Italy, it is also the last major settlement on the currently developed portion of the K&P Trail.  Everything from this point forward will be much more remote.

Stay tuned for more Travel Flashbacks, local travel stories, and our exciting international trip in July!  We’re really going off the beaten path for this one…I’ll have some hints for you as the trip gets closer.

Travel Flashback: Journey to the Arctic Circle 2008

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

Despite its wintry name, all of Iceland lies south of the Arctic Circle…except one tiny island called Grímsey.  The Arctic Circle passes right through the island:  the only settlement on the island is south of the Arctic Circle but a 15-minute walk north takes you to the Circle itself.

Grímsey is beyond remote:  it is 40km north of the coast of “mainland” Iceland and is about 3 hours ferry from the already remote port of Dalvik.  Only 86 people live on Grímsey and we had previously heard all sorts of “grim” stories about death and depopulation on this island with an area of just 2 square miles.

The starkly beautiful coast of northern Iceland
The starkly beautiful coast of northern Iceland

We were staying in the northern Iceland town of Akureyri and thought that it would be a shame to be so close to the Arctic Circle and not actually cross it.  So we took a bus to Dalvik and then hopped on what looked like a calm and efficient ferry for the journey to Grímsey.  After a few hours  on Grímsey, we would catch the ferry back to Dalvik.  It was the middle of the summer; surely we could look forward to a pleasant day on the water and on the exotic island.

When we boarded the ferry in Dalvik, we staked out a couple of window seats in the indoor lounge, thinking it would be warmer and more comfortable.  We enjoyed sailing past the towering cliffs of northern Iceland and looked forward to the rest of the crossing.   Once we hit open water, however, something very bad happened.  Despite traveling quite fast for a ferry, the boat began churning and lurching violently from side-to-side and from back-to-front.  This lasted for hours.

Downtown Grímsey
Downtown Grímsey

Thinking we were safer inside, we soon both noticed that we weren’t feeling so well.   I’m really not sure how much detail I should go into here.  Is it enough to say that even the crew was seeking out paper bags for personal use and that one of us spent two hours in a bathroom stall?   Do I need to mention what the indoor lounge smelled like?

Anyway, we eventually arrived on Grímsey and spent some time in the island’s restaurant in order to rehydrate.  Colour eventually returned to our faces and, feeling less horrible than we did on arrival, we set out for our northward walk to the Arctic Circle.

Remote path beyond the Arctic Circle
Remote path beyond the Arctic Circle

We passed the circle without incident (right on the Circle, there’s a tiny bridge with a “M*A*S*H*”-style signpost pointing to various international destinations) and found ourselves on a remote path near the top of a cliff.  A puffin briefly landed right beside us with a mouthful of capelin.  Around the next corner was a sheer cliff housing thousands upon thousands of seabirds.  We mostly noticed the interestingly-beaked puffins, of course, but there were birds of every description.  There are apparently one million seabirds on the island altogether.

One of many puffins we saw north of the Arctic Circle
One of many puffins we saw north of the Arctic Circle

The winds were blowing, the land was bleak…and the grass was a vivid green.  There were no trees but it wasn’t quite as barren as one would expect north of the Arctic Circle.   Still, we felt like we were at the end of the world and felt some pride for having overcome considerable adversity to get here.

On the way back to the ferry (pictured at the top of this post), we understandably began wondering how we were ever going to survive the return journey.   We overheard that staying outside on the deck was actually the best way of dealing with the lurching boat.  Apparently, being inside with fixed straight lines (windows, walls, doors, etc.) accentuates your disorientation and makes seasickness worse.   We resolved to bundle up and test this theory:  the alternative was simply too grim to contemplate.

Leaving Grímsey behind on our journey back to the mainland
Leaving Grímsey behind on our journey back to the mainland

Eschewing the indoor cabin (which still wasn’t very fresh), we took our places on the exposed outer deck of the ferry.  It was cold and windy and soon enough the boat was churning almost as much as on the way out to Grímsey.  But we never felt sick!   Feeling like a couple of wise old salts, we happily disembarked in Dalvik and reminisced almost fondly about our epic Arctic journey.  However, as you might appreciate, we didn’t take any more boats for the rest of our holiday in Iceland.

The other Pierre van der Hout

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

Today’s genealogical post is a little different…but there is still a travel element.

I had long assumed that I was the first and only “Pierre Vanderhout” in the world, as our family’s genealogy has been documented in book form back to the mid-1500s and there wasn’t any other Vanderhout (usually written as “van der Hout” in Dutch) named Pierre.  However, it appears that I am not the first person to bear this name.

On February 26, 1678, Guillaume van der Hout was christened in Leiden, the Netherlands. The parents were  Pierre van der Hout and Caterine Pierre. The witnesses were Elizabeth van Danne and Gregoire Cresson. This event was recorded by the “RK Kerk de Zon” in Leiden; the document can be found here (the relevant entry is numbered “9005”).

Typical intersection in Delft, the Netherlands
Typical intersection in Delft, the Netherlands

This was only the beginning of an unusual story.  I couldn’t find any other genealogical information on these names:  there was nothing on the direct descendants of Guillaume van der Hout nor on the direct ancestors of this other Pierre van der Hout.   All I had to go on was the name of the church.  “Kerk” means “church” in Dutch, while “de Zon” means “the sun”.   I didn’t pay much attention to the “RK”;  I had assumed it was a reference to the Reformed Church (a Protestant church that is quite prominent in the Netherlands).

However, some further research revealed an unusual twist.  “RK” was actually a short form for “Rooms Katholiek”, the Dutch words for “Roman Catholic”.   So, the “Sun Church” in Leiden was actually a Catholic church.  That was a surprise, as the genealogy suggested that the first few centuries of van der Houts were all Protestant.

"De Spaansche Vloot" (The Spanish Fleet), a nearly 400-year-old restaurant in 's-Gravenzande, the Netherlands
“De Spaansche Vloot” (The Spanish Fleet), a nearly 400-year-old restaurant in ‘s-Gravenzande, the Netherlands

When we were in the Netherlands last summer, we visited some churches that dated back 800 years.  I decided to find out if the “Sun Church” was still around, as it would be interesting on a future visit to see where this other Pierre van der Hout had once been.  This led to another surprise:  the Kerk de Zon was a secret church!

While the Netherlands was a tolerant country even in the 17th century (attracting persecuted religious groups from all over Europe), tolerance was a relative concept.  Non-Protestants were free to practice their own religion as long as they did not draw too much attention to themselves.  This meant that their places of worship could not be outwardly identifiable as such; they also could not enter and leave en masse.

Nearly deserted beach near 's-Gravenzande, the Netherlands
Nearly deserted beach near ‘s-Gravenzande, the Netherlands

So, was the 17th-century Pierre van der Hout somehow written out of the family tree because of religion?  The multiple French names in the records of the Kerk de Zon provide a more likely answer.

Pierre van der Hout (or his ancestors) probably came from a French-speaking part of Europe and had a different surname.    However, as they continued living in the Netherlands, it was common to adopt a Dutch surname to help assimilate into Dutch society.

Pierre’s family may have picked “van der Hout” simply because it was a common surname in that part of the Netherlands.  However, picking a new name was often very literal.   As “van der Hout” means “from the forest”, Pierre’s original French surname may well have been something like  Desbois or LaForest.

Distant view of Grote Kerk in Maassluis, the Netherlands.  This is the church where my ancestor Isaack Adriaensz van der Hout (born in 1580) placed the keystone
Distant view of Grote Kerk in Maassluis, the Netherlands. This is the church where my ancestor Isaack Adriaensz van der Hout (born in 1580) placed the keystone

While I could not find any other references to the 17th-century Pierre or Guillaume van der Hout, I suspect that the family’s descendants were around for a long time.   Why?  I managed to find a person named “Guillaume Pierre Johann van der Hout” – he was born in 1874 in Delft, the Netherlands (see photo at the top of this post) and is the only other “Guillaume van der Hout” I could locate.

Here, finally, is the travel angle…the only record I could find for Guillaume Pierre Johann van der Hout was an immigration record kept by the police of Antwerp, Belgium.  For reasons unknown, he left Delft to live in another country.  On this page, at number 97.416, you can see how this unusual story continued into at least the late 19th-century.   I hope to investigate this further; in the meantime, it seems that anybody with my name is destined to move around!

[The photos in today’s post are all close to where my namesakes lived in the Netherlands.]

Small Town Ontario

(Kingston, Ontario, Canada)

Last weekend, we decided to take a short drive to some nearby small communities.   We were only gone for a couple of hours but it was time well spent:  we ended up making some important decisions about our summer holidays.  More on that later.

We started out in Inverary, a village about 15 minutes north of Kingston.  The photo at the top of the post shows the main intersection:  of course, it has long been home to a general store.  Not long ago, almost every village had one of these.  However, this store, like many others, has now closed.

Inverary United Church...and our car
Inverary United Church…and our car

Our next stop was in the larger village of Sydenham.  It’s just a bit farther from Kingston and is able to sustain more local businesses.  In the warmer months, it probably also helps that a lot of cottages and outdoor attractions (Frontenac Provincial Park, Gould Lake Conservation Area) are nearby.

Saturday afternoon football on the shores of Sydenham Lake
Saturday afternoon football on the shores of Sydenham Lake

When we arrived, we stopped by the local soccer/football field.  It’s got a great location right on the shores of Sydenham Lake.  I used to play minor soccer and high school soccer games here from time to time and always enjoyed the setting.   It was good to see the field in use:  on this weekend afternoon, a minor football game was in progress.  It seemed like everyone in the village had come out to watch.

Local store in Sydenham, Ontario
Local store in Sydenham, Ontario

As it was unseasonably warm, we decided to visit Ronnie’s restaurant for some ice cream.   We had never eaten here before; in fact, we didn’t even know about it before arriving.  However, we thought it would be nice to patronize a truly local business and the ice cream was just what I needed.

As we left, we made an important decision about our summer travels:  as much as possible, we are going to try to avoid chains and eat at/patronize locally-owned businesses.  Visiting the “Milky Way” and the other local businesses in Regina was fun…who knows what other local treasures we will find this summer?

Location of the (former) mill in Sydenham, Ontario
Location of the (former) mill in Sydenham, Ontario

I suppose this flows from my recent experience with Record Store Day and its emphasis on independent record shops.  It’s not always easy to take this approach in our busy day-to-day lives but it is something we can definitely do while on vacation.  If we stumble across local events (fairs, pancake breakfasts, spaghetti dinners, etc.) held  in community halls, we’ll wander in and see what happens!

This is what post offices should look like!  The post office in Sydenham, Ontario
This is what post offices should look like! The post office in Sydenham, Ontario

A stroll down Sydenham’s main street also revealed some interesting buildings and photos.  It’s difficult to identify potential pictures when you are in a car…but opportunities abound when you are walking around.  In fact, we sometimes get out and go for a walk in a small town even if nothing looks interesting.   It almost always works for us.  I say “almost” because my wife was stung by a bee (and promptly discovered her previously unknown bee allergy) while we were walking down the main street of Claremont, New Hampshire, a few years ago.  We now have a new appreciation for those blue “Hospital” signs:  when you are someplace unfamiliar and are having a medical emergency, it really helps to be able to locate a hospital quickly.