I haven’t always liked travelling alone. On my first solo trip to England when I was in my 20s, I probably made some choices my mother would have considered unsafe, just to find travelling companions. In my 40s, with the constant demands of parenting and little alone time, I jumped at the chance to travel on my own. Now, it’s my preferred mode of travel.
Over the years, I’ve become increasingly creative at finding destinations to indulge my solo adventures. My latest choice: some isolated, off-the- beaten-path Newfoundland and Labrador islands.
“That’s the last piece of land between here and Greenland,” says my guide, Mary, as she points over the rolling Atlantic waves to a tiny, uninhabited island in the distance called Gappy. There, on the well-worn Turpin’s Trail that picks its way through some of the oldest rocks in the world along Fogo Island’s northeastern shoreline, I can’t help but feel that aching carefreeness that comes with the vastness of the open sea.
Mary’s a volunteer community host at Fogo Island Inn where I’m staying, and like other islanders I’ve met, she’s keen to share Fogo Island’s long history. Located off the northeast coast of Newfoundland, Fogo Island was settled in the late 1600s by mostly Irish and English fisher-families who had crossed the Atlantic to take advantage of the abundant cod supply.
The small fishing communities survived until the fish market collapsed in the 1960s. When the government started pushing “resettlement” – the controversial practice of moving entire communities to the mainland for better economic opportunities – the locals joined to form a fishing co-operative to catch, sell and process their own fish.
This successfully blocked resettlement, but the island’s population continued to dwindle until 2013, when island-born Zita Cobb returned to open Fogo Island Inn, a 29-room unique luxury property perched on the edge of the rugged ocean.
Guided hiking to explore the more than 200 kilometres of trails through the island’s sub-arctic landscape of bogs and boreal forest is just one of the activities the Inn offers each day. Earlier that morning, I’d joined the sunrise hike with guide PJ, on the Brimstone Head Trail. Along with the others in the group, at the lookout over Notre Dame Bay, I was struck silent as I inwardly marvelled over the endless ocean landscape. Home to the island’s annual folk festival, Brimstone Head has also been dubbed one of the four corners of the world by the Flat Earth Society of Canada.
As if that wasn’t enough morning magic, while we wove our way back down the trail, PJ put his finger to his lips to shush us and pointed to a black fox, watching us from afar, the morning sun’s soft rays perfectly framing his silhouette.
At the Inn, it’s easy to balance my desire for alone time with my need for connection. I have breakfast in my room, a “tacklebox” of pastries, green smoothie and tea left outside my door each morning. But dinner, I take in the glass-walled dining room, enjoying the new spin on traditional dishes (I now agree, Newfoundland cod is the best there is) that the chef prepares as the fiery sun sets over the Atlantic.
Every room has floor-to-ceiling windows, so I can watch the pounding of the waves from my bed. Add to that the ability to have someone light a fire in the wood burning stove at any time, and the thought of lounging in bed all day, reading a book, is tempting. But, of course, I haven’t come all this way to not explore.
I sign up for an island orientation with Fergus Foley, another community host, and a seventh-generation islander (which I’ve learned is standard lineage for a local). We visit a craft shop filled with handmade quilts, miniature saltbox houses and paintings depicting local maritime life. Since the Inn opened, the art scene is blossoming on Fogo and the artist residency program has become one of the most popular in the world.
Amazingly, there are also several tiny museums, like the Fogo Wireless Interpretation Centre, built next to the original 1911 Marconi station, the second radio transmitting station to receive the mayday call from the sinking Titanic.
Newfoundlanders are famous for their hospitality and I’ve heard on Fogo Island it’s not unusual for an islander to invite tourists back to their home for tea. I ask Foley for his take on how this overwhelming affability came to be.
“There weren’t roads until the early 1970s and communities were isolated,” he says. “Getting from Tilting to Fogo [17 kilometres] was an all-day experience. But even though communities were isolated, we were one big family. We love to sit down and chat – it’s just our nature.”
On my final evening at the Inn, I sign up for the crab boil, which takes place in the “shed,” a traditional Newfoundland “outback” building. I join the other guests around a community table, and we share family-style traditional dishes like moose carpaccio before we get a lesson on how to best crack into our fresh salty snow crabs, butter dripping off our chins as the sun sets.
Early the next day, a 20-minute ferry ride takes me to the neighbouring Change Islands. This outport community is much smaller and, with less than a tenth of the population of Fogo Island, I’ve been hard pressed to find a restaurant or accommodation open this late in the summer season (mid-September).
But the quiet solitude soothes my soul. I manage two hikes before the sun sets, and my camera just won’t stop clicking—postcard-perfect saltbox houses. Fishing stages are scattered everywhere.
I meet some colourful characters on Change Islands as well, like Netta, the impassioned owner of the Newfoundland Pony Sanctuary, and Peter Porter, the long-time owner of the Olde Shoppe Museum, who animatedly recites non-stop stories about his extensive collection of 19 and 20 century artifacts, before serenading me with a toe-tapping accordion solo.
That night, it’s dead silent as I settle into bed in the 125-plus-year-old Seven Oakes Island Inn, a bed and breakfast in a historic fishing merchant home. Internet and phone connection are spotty, but I don’t miss the demand of being constantly available via cellphone and social media. To me, alone time is the new luxury.
IF YOU GO:
For more info visit Newfoundland and Labrador Tourism – www.newfoundlandlabrador.com
Fly into Gander and pick up a rental car to make the 70-minute or so drive to the Farewell Ferry Terminal. The ferry ride to Fogo Island is about 50 minutes. You can also charter a flight to Fogo Island.
There are several places to stay on Fogo Island, including the Fogo Island Inn – https://fogoislandinn.ca/ where I stayed. The Inn caters to solo travellers and instead of charging a single’s supplement, occupancy rates are less than for a couple.
On Change Islands, it’s much more difficult to find accommodation, especially out of season, so you will want to plan early. I stayed at Seven Oakes Island Inn – http://sevenoakesislandinn.com/
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