July 6th, 2008
Sometimes I just need to shout and pull my hair a little and then I settle down. Hence the last post. I’m much less reactive in real life than it probably seems here.
So how was the trip? Awesome! Husband and I are shamefully lazy holiday planners, so all we had when we arrived in St John’s was a hotel room, no plans or schedules or even any research about things to do under out belts. We travelled with our good friend Z, who is either as lazy about planning trips as we are or was willing to just go along for the ride, so most of our days were spent wandering from place to place in search of a) food or b) tennis or c) both, which was only really available at the hotel Smitty’s, so that’s where we could often be found.
I don’t know what it is about being in a strange city but even going to Smitty’s in St John’s was fun.
The major downside of St John’s is the food, which is overwhelmingly deep fried and meaty, which is awesome for about one day and then rapidly becomes disgusting. If you can live on battered seafood and fries St John’s is your city. If you want fresh vegetables be prepared to defend them from hot oil because that’s what they’re destined for. On our first night I tried to order chips and salsa in a pub, and it honest to god required about five minutes of insisting to the disbelieving waiter before he believed we really didn’t want cheese and sour cream and all the fixings of nachos. Chips? Like, naked tortilla chips? With less fatty additions than are available? Just chips and salsa, that’s it? Without baking with cheese on top? He simply could not believe that this is what we wanted. This is a true story and it was representative of the general tone of eating and serving in the whole city.
Of course, the chips were house made and deep fried and literally dripped oil. I have been off oil for what feels like ages and I was so enthralled with it that I ate all the moistly oily chips (with Z’s help) and then actually sprinkled salt in the puddles of oil on the bottom of the plate and ate those in fingerfulls. More true stories. This is what St John’s will reduce you to: a pathetic salted oil eater. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The major upsides are the breathtaking beauty of the place and the warmth of the Newfoundlanders, who are every bit as friendly and cheerful as the stereotype says. Maybe there’s a connection to living on little more than salted, deep fried batter? The elusive key to happiness is, perhaps, fat.