I am (an honourary) Newfoundlander!

Approx. 2191 Km into the trip
Location: Trapper John’s, St. John’s, NFLD

See? We used to have to try so hard to be proper Newfies

For this trip, I have decided to go through it with little to no expectations or plans. As Nicole and I are discovering, crossing the country really calls for a more fluid and flexible approach to travelling. However, there was one thing that I had to accomplish in Newfoundland – get screeched in.

To be screeched in means you become an honourary Newfoundlander with all the rights and privileges that go along with it. Not to mention, it’s just a hilarious and unique activity to take part in. Being extremely gung-ho about doing it right, we did some research into where the best places were to take part in the ceremony.

After checking Wikipedia and having Kristin ask some co-workers, we concluded that two places were well recommended: Christian’s Pub and Trapper John’s. Looking further into these two locations, we finally decided upon Trapper John’s. Not only was the ceremony cheaper, but it was performed several times a night – this gave us the chance to fit it into our schedule.

We decided that Tuesday night was best – based solely on the fact that we weren’t flying the next day. Because hangovers are much better on terra firma.  And while it was perfect for this purpose, it also gave us an extra day to ask about the ceremony. I really wish I wasn’t so curious…

Since Tuesday was a rainy day, Nicole and I decided it would be the perfect day to go on a “Legend Tour”, a company that takes you to the sight-seeing locations in and around St. John’s. On this tour we had an awesome guide named Gord – the coolest “more than 70” year old around.  Since Gord was so friendly, I decided to ask him how a screeching in ceremony took place.  His description was not one Nicole and I wanted to hear.

As he described it, we would need to take three shots of screech. Nicole and I looked at each other with shock and fear on our faces. We would need to kiss a cod, or worse, a puffin’s arse. Nicole and I looked at each other with disgust. Finally, we would need to say a dirty Newfie saying. This didn’t phase us so much.

Jumping ahead to the evening, we had prepared ourselves for the worst. We knew there’d be screech – but three shots? And we prayed they had a cod. Kissing a puffin’s butt is far less appetizing, especially with my personal aversion to birds. In the end, we were worried for nothing.

Upon entering the bar, we signed ourselves up for the ceremony – along half a dozen others from Saskatchewan, the UK and Africa. To our happy surprise, there was only one shot presented before us, the puffin was a stuffed animal, and the saying was far more tame than expected. Having psyched ourselves for much worse, we were slightly disappointed by the anticlimactic process.

But, we are honourary Newfoundlanders nonetheless. And that, at least, it a great and exciting feeling!


--Julie