Perhaps some of you have been wondering why Borderline Crazy was missing 50% of its crazy, aka, myself, in this travel season’s contributions to the blog.  In the past year I experienced a considerable change in my life when I started dating Jon and a few weeks later we decided to move in together and to make Trinity our year round home.  Furthermore, with a number of projects on my plate and trying to settle into this new life, I decided that taking a trip did not really make sense for the winter.

Yes, everyone, it appeared that I was finally settling down. While I had dated over the past decade my location, career, and passion for travel often prevented me from getting seriously involved with someone.  I always figured that I had a lot to gain by getting into a committed relationship, but I would also have a lot to sacrifice as well. My biggest challenge was that it was unlikely that anyone I would meet would have a similar work schedule to mine that would allow them time to travel and even more unlikely that I would meet someone who could either bring his work to Trinity or quit whatever job he had and start on a new path in such a rural place.

Unfortunately, the Newfoundland dating scene is brutal. I’m not saying that there aren’t datable men on the island, there is simply a lack of them.  With our small population on an isolated rock, running into anyone soon after you saw or spoke to them on a dating site, whether you want to or not, is pretty much inevitable.  To give an example, a journalist in her 30s from the UK came on a press tour of Newfoundland.  She and the other journalists happened to be in Trinity for my 30th birthday party so I invited them to join us.  After being at the party for a few minutes she said to me “I downloaded Tinder when I got to your area. The only two guys I matched with are in your house right now.” She looked horrified.

Not a bad spot for a first date.

Then, after years of dating struggle, I went for a hike with Jon on blustery June morning and knew that I was done for.  Jon is the kind of guy who listens to endless hours of podcasts and enjoys lengthy post discussions in the car about the issues they deal with.  Unlike me, he considers what he is going to say before he says it. He can spend endless hours listening and has a ridiculous amount of patience.  He would likely be that guy who takes charge in a zombie apocalypse situation, but before heading out the door to save the world he would somehow manage to cook a great supper, clear the dishes, fold some laundry and dance with me in the kitchen. He is also rather photogenic. 

Jon and I had in fact known each other, just not well, through his sister for almost 2 years before we decided to hang out one-on-one.  He had just come home to Newfoundland after spending time in Europe.  Having wrapped up a work contract in carpentry, he was able to make the one hour drive to Trinity multiple times a week for dates and after a few weeks, it became obvious that his own apartment was serving as an overprices storage room for his stuff.  His landlord was able to find a new tenant within hours of him giving his notice and it only took 2 car trips to move his things. Our business was in desperate need of a carpenter so finding work was not an issue. Normally I would move back to St. John’s between the work season and my travels, but now, having made the house in Trinity my home with Jon, leaving it made little sense.

The yellow house we rent on the hill is not a tough spot to live

This would be my first time living in Trinity during the part of the season when the inn would be closed. For any of you not familiar, since the collapse of the Newfoundland cod fishery in the early 1990s, Trinity made its rebound by redefining itself as a tourist destination.  During the 5-6 month tourist season when our multi-building inn operates, the streets are full of travellers.  Houses that are not rented by tourists are occupied by a number of summer residents, some from St. John’s, but many from all over the world (Hong Kong, Belgium, USA) who come to spend as long as they can in our stunning area before they have to go back home because they do not have residency status.  Some don’t wait that long and take off when the weather becomes unbearably foul. That factor cannot be overstated.  In fact, I am writing this while trapped in the house barely able to see out my window as we receive somewhere between 30-50cm of snow and there are reports from CBC of an ice pan hopping polar bear lurking around the area (perhaps not being able to go outside is beneficial at the moment). The only sounds I can hear are from the plough making its way through town and the fog horn blaring on the point. 

My view as I write this post

Once the visitors and the summer folk clear out, there are about 40 or so people left to tough out the winter in the historic core where we live, and 100 or so in total in the greater Trinity area.  Keep in mind, we can still drive 15 to 25 minutes to hang out with people in other communities that range between 30-300 residents, we just have to be willing to navigate around 100 potholes in the dark before getting there.  Luckily everyone seems to have a spare room to crash in so we don’t crash into one of these after a beer.

Yes, I make it sound bleak, but I am a Newfoundlander and it is my cultural responsibility to turn ordinary statements and fact into good stories and we love to talk about the weather.  The truth is, for those willing to tough out the rough stuff the rest is so worth it.  I get to enjoy a panoramic view of the water every day while I work away on projects, sometimes entertained by seals on the ice. There is no air or noise pollution and so little light pollution that on clear nights the stargazing is world-class.  If you want to socialize, just grab your coat, pick a house with lights on or smoke coming out of the chimney and walk right in.  If there is snow, just strap on your snowshoes and go into the woods for a mug up (aka cup of tea made over a fire).    If you are missing the rest of the world all you have to do is face time someone.  Jon was used to this kind of life since he grew up in Francois, a community of fewer than 100 people where roads don’t exist, just pathways and boardwalks for foot traffic and quads. Cars would be useless since the community is tucked into the bottom of a fjord and is only accessible by boat. While I was not as accustomed to the quiet outport life, the idea of living in Trinity over the winter seemed less like doomed isolation and more like an adventure.

The view from our house in Trinity on the good days.

Francois, the community where Jon grew up.

Despite being content with where we were, it took one blog post from Steph, who had begun her annual travels for 2017/18 in Mexico City with her sister, to make me reconsider my decision to stay put. Even if we went for just one month, we would still have 5 months of off-season to enjoy in Trinity. We had experienced no tensions in living together and I felt confident that travelling together would be no different.  We had discussed going on a short trip sometime later in the spring, but the thought of potentially going 2 years without a good Steph and Marieke adventure made me decide that there was no time like the present. Luckily Jon had met Steph during her one-day stopover in St. John’s en route to Sweden for a wedding in October and he had no issue recognizing that Steph being part of our yearly travel plans was simply going to be a reality of our relationship. He was just as enthusiastic about spontaneously booking tickets to Puerta Vallarta on Mexico’s Pacific Coast as I was. As it turns out I had not met a guy to settle down with, but instead, someone to continue my adventures with.  

Jon and Steph walking towards Cape Spear Lighthouse

Hanging out at the most easterly point in North America

While Puerta Vallarta is not my personal idea of a great travelling destination (it is more suited to those who have a week or so, like resort life, don’t want to waste time in transit and need to relax) it was only a one hour bus ride from Sayulita where Steph could meet us in 3 weeks time after chilling in the surf town of San Blas. This would allow us to still celebrate Christmas and New Years in Trinity before starting the trip that would have us backpacking through Mexico towards the east coast.  As an added bonus, the flight down south included a 24 hour stop over in Montreal that provided the opportunity to spend time with my sister, her husband and my Nephew and Niece Thomas and Joanne.

Getting our Christmas tree 3 weeks before departing for Mexico

Celebrating Christmas in Newfoundland for the first time in 4 years

When the time finally came for the trip on January 8th, we were fortunate that Montreal was only -3 degrees, practically balmy compared to the -27 that had been the daily average during the previous week.  The outside New Year’s Eve celebrations in Ottawa had even been cancelled because of Canada’s extreme cold.   We spent hours walking around the old port area of Montreal in a heavy snow, checked out a brewery, took in the remaining Christmas lights and spent some quality time with my family.

We snuck out the next morning to get back to the airport and bid farewell to the Canadian cold for the next 5 weeks. 

Thomas demonstrating his arm wrestling skills and Jon demonstrating his acting skills by losing convincingly.

Jon checking out the lights in historic Montreal.