Jeremy Tankard in Newfoundland

Newfoundland’s famous hospitality is a bit of a cliché. Or so I thought. When I told people I would be touring Newfoundland they all told me what a beautiful place it was and suggested places I might like to see. This was always followed by a thoughtful remark like, “Of course the landscape is gorgeous, but it’s the warmth of the people that’s really the heart of Newfoundland.” And you know what? They were right. Cliché and all.

On day one of the tour my driver, Darrell (a librarian), thought I might like a nice home-cooked meal so hetook me back to his place. His wife had made a special meal just for me and his kids were dying to meet me. We arrived to a meal I couldn’t eat (allergy reasons) and three rowdy kids under the age of six. It was an hour of complete, almost comical, mayhem. Who needs caffeine? Not after that. I ate them out of toast and peanut butter and jam before we hit the road for my first event of the tour – a little public library in Pasadena. As we sped along the TransCanada towards our destination Darrell apologized for the chaos at his place. I guess I’d looked a little overwhelmed. No need, I told him, I can’t think of a better way to launch a crazy-busy kid’s book tour than with some crazy kids.

Darrell had inadvertently set the tone for the rest of my encounters with Newfoundlanders. Everyone who greets me for the next five days does so with the warmth of a beloved aunt who hasn’t seen her favourite nephew for years. It’s funny to feel so much at home and like a stranger at the same time.

As I boarded my flight home I contemplated the week behind me: I’d seen a LOT of the province; I’d met thousands of children and many dozens of adults. As all the lines blurred and faded, it occurred to me that it is a harsh and often desolate landscape. It is beautiful because you enjoy it from the warmth of a loving family. I felt strangely Canadian.