Since I was a kid I was curious about Newfoundland (pronounced "newfoundlander" without the "er"), studying this remote corner of the world in the Hammond Atlas that we had. I finally decided to have a look.

The Capital, St. John's, is a small port town, really, with working class housing in the downtown area, and some rather elegant homes up the hill and farther away from the water. Here're several photos of its downtown residential area. The designs are spartan (at least on their exteriors), though have been spruced up with vibrant paint jobs.

Quite a few homes have mailboxes that echo their streetscapes.

A downtown alley staircase:

Ships, both cargo and cruise, regularly dock at the very busy harbor.

A few night scenes along the harbor:

As I was in St. John's for Shabbos, I attended services at the province's only synagogue. I was very warmly welcomed by Gabriel, who ran the service, and by everyone else as well, from young burgeoning intellectual Ivan to community mainstay David. Their community leader died only a few weeks before my visit, leaving this tiny and now-bereaved community at a loss. I have every confidence that they will carry on and thrive.

I confess I found St. John's rather underwhelming. Both the food and beer scenes were not especially evolved, though Yellowbelly, a nice brewpub, had a very satisfying stout, and nice bartenders. Indeed, the people were friendly and welcoming wherever I went. No complaints.

I rented a car and took a drive around the Avalon Peninsula, including the Irish Loop.

I was very appreciative of the unambiguously clear signage at a small cafe at which I had a tuna sandwich, in the lovely village of Brigus!

A few scenes at Brigus.

And the scenery along the Irish Loop, which hugged the seashore for a significant portion of its length.

The sun finally peaked through on my last full day, and so I ascended Signal Hill at the eastern edge of St. John's. Here's a view of the easternmost point of North America:

St. John's from Signal Hill.