In Toronto, almost ten days since I left Newfoundland (feels like several lifetimes), I sit in a crowded cafe, chomping ice from the lemonade I chugged to keep me cool in the August heat. Mothers push strollers, men in hard hats gather around pits of shredded concrete, hordes of teens slurp neon slush from over-sized cups and straws, the world is buzzing humming bustling honking shouting dinging through my open ears. This is a different kind of wilderness than I am used to.
But before I get too wrapped up in the city mouse/country mouse debate, I must remember the most important lesson I learned in Newfoundland: that there is a time for nostalgia, and there is a time for enjoying the place and moment you are in right now. Trinity and surrounding areas are characterized by their rich history — it feels like you are taking several steps back in time when you visit — but despite their time-gone-by exterior, the defining characteristic is really their ability to make you focus on the present and enjoy each sunny, rainy, foggy, or snowy day as it comes at you. And that, to me, is the most important lesson of all.
As it turns out, it took moving to the smallest town imaginable to truly prepare me for life in the big city.
So thank you Newfoundland, friends in Trinity Bight, and Skerwink Hostel.
Best. Summer. Ever.
If you haven’t been to Trinity and find yourself longing for the good-old-days, or perhaps just hoping to slow down and unwind, I strongly suggest a visit to the continent of Newfoundland, off the coast of the island of North America — that half-hour time zone seems to make all the difference in the world.