Guimet

Guimet / 10x10

DOWN THE ROAD from L'Anse Aux Meadows is a whole collection of teeny little towns that apparently live generally on tourism and specifically on Viking tourism - with a little fishing thrown in. 

The proliferation of Viking-related stuff is overwhelming. It's so relentless that, over the course of an afternoon paying attention, it becomes ridiculous. Snorri Cabins? Val Halla Hotel? I shake my head at how the incredible fact of the Vikings landing in L'Anse Aux Meadows has become co-opted to sell everything from coffee to delivery services. 

I make this painting standing beside a closed and shuttered restaurant. The town of Guimet seems to be sheltered a bit from the relentless wind - but is full of Viking adverts. 











***
Dog of the Day

MET THIS GUY at a show this summer. I'm not seeing the dogs I usually find on my travels! Maybe Newfoundlanders don't have so many dogs? Many of the people I meet are traveling, and they have left their dogs at home. But I am on the lookout every day. 

***
A Final Thought

"Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind."

- Seneca

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Final Post

Image
  Above, Port-Aux-Basques Overlook, 10x10 I'M HOME, in Wachapreague, safe and sound, and glad to be with Peter and our menagerie. It was an amazing, inspiring and challenging trip, the fulfillment of a long-held dream, and I am delighted to have gone and seen and experienced. I drove more than 2,500 miles, made 26 paintings and took more photos than I can count. I saw more than my share of clouds and less than my share of rain and sun, too. I was lucky to have a good friend to travel with for part of the trip, and lucky, too, to have another stretch of time to pass in solitary contemplation and deep work.  I met kind and generous and lovely people. I felt welcomed by Canada and Canadians. I was impressed with the general good cheer and impressively good health of the people I met. The Newfoundlanders I encountered love Newfoundland, and by and large, want never to leave, never to live anywhere else. They are a tough breed, to live in such a difficult climate,
Read more

On the River in Truro

Image
On the River in Truro / 16x16 THERE SEEMS TO BE a lot of geographical bragging about the Bay of Fundy tides and tidal bores. The tides are highest in Burntcoat Head in Nova Scotia, according to several people, and one page on the Internet.  These guys were behind us on the road and could tell we were looking for something According to a sign we see, the tides are highest in the town of Hants.  No, the tidal bore is best in Truro, on the Salmon River, says Kathy at the Truro information station, and this is echoed by two nice guys who think we are lost and stop to help.  But no, says a woman at the information center in South Maitland, the bore is best in South Maitland, where the railroad bridge used to be.    “Bore” is an old Norse word for “wave.” When the water from the rising tide in the Bay of Fundy is funneled into the Shubenacadie River,  the narrowed channel, huge amount of water and topography of the river floor combine to make a tidal wave o
Read more

L'Anse Aux Meadows

Image
L'Anse Aux Meadows / 16x16 IT IS HARD for me to describe the feelings I have while I am walking around this most historic of historic sites. I don't cry, but I almost do, and I am astounded at the emotion that overtakes me.  Here, in these fields, in this place at the edge of the sea, Europeans set foot on North America for the very first time. The Vikings - with Leif Erikson probably among them - left Greenland and sailed into the wilderness, crossing the ocean in small, small boats and landed at L'Anse Aux Meadows.  To them, it was the new world. They built a village there, housing anywhere from 30-160 people. There were trees on the land at that time, and they used the wood to build boats, their homes, furniture. Their houses were sod huts - the earthen roofs are gone but the foundations remain, and that's what you see when your tour the area.  In 1960, explorer Helge Ingstad and his wife, archaeologist Anne Stine Ingstad, spoke with Georg
Read more