Deerlake, Newfoundland

From the sandy beaches and sun streaming in Jamaica to the water lined by thick woods in Deerlake.  I joked about my job being all glamour when I found out I was going to be going to a small town in the last province to join the then dominion of Canada.  I was a little sad though I wasn’t going to have time to explore the area.  The airport is small, actually that is an understatement.  It is an ort of an airport compared to LHR, FRA and Toronto.  It is still designated as regional, not an international port and is lacking an aircraft bridge.  The ramp side walk would be very cold in a typical Canadian winter.  It was very dark when we landed as we were later than we had planned to be.  We stayed at a lovely hotel my employer does not routinely use.  With the three and a half hour time change in advance from my hometown I had little time to do anything other than sleep.  I don’t think I will ever get used to that extra half hour difference that is mocked by the rest of Canada.  It tires me out more than any other time change so I slept the entire short layover so I would be well rested for the next day.  When I awoke the next morning and took a look at the view from my window I saw that for the second day in a row I had a view of a body of water.   A sliver of lake was visible on the right hand side of the window and made me smile.  It wasn’t the ocean but it still was beautiful.  Back at the airport after a short night, I had run out of fresh food for my 4 day long pairing so I checked out the options.  There was a locally operated coffee shop/ greasy spoon that could be found in any small airport.  Their menu included a regional specialty, a fried Baloney sandwich, as adventurous as I had been a few days ago, I had lost all gumption and opted to go for something a little safer for breakfast, chicken fingers and fries.