Thumbing, hiking, springing, slipping and tumbling my way to La Manche Village

I’d slacked off a social engagement with my work friends the night before, in order to gain an early start. But, come 9.30am I was only just raising from my slumber. My hopes of an early morning had been dashed, yet I still resolved to escape the city’s clutches. I quickly dressed, gathered a few essentials, and set off for the bus. I was going make use of St John’s very limited bus system to get on to the highway, and hitch a ride to space, solitude, peace, and quiet; the antithesis of St John’s life.

The buses conspired against me. The first bus didn’t turn up. The second bus was late. But, by midday I was finally on highway 10. I walked for half hour or so to escape the remaining suburban sprawl, and then upon finding a suitable spot, I stuck my thumb aloft. The 2^nd car picked me up.

One hour later, and two rides later, I was at La Manche.

With only a few hours of useable daylight left, La Manche was going to have to do. This was my hiking destination for the day. I raced down the access road, cheerily waved to a local shovelling snow from his driveway, and made my way to the trail head for the short walk in and out to the abandoned settlement at La Manche village.

Daylight kept playing on my mind (I really didn’t want to hitchhike in the dark), but never the less, I had a spring, slip and tumble in my step. Yep, the path was slippery. But I was happy.

 It didn’t matter that I’d hiked and swam in this area before. I was happy I was out doing something. I wasn’t wasting my life on the sofa watching shit on the Tellybox. I was out having fun, creating memories, exploring, seeing new things, making the most of my day off, and embracing the beauty on the island I have called home for the last 16 months. And boy, what beauty there is!

The village was wiped out by a winter storm in 1966 and all that remains is the foundations of a few houses. The suspension bridge beautifully frames the inlet, and the sounds of waterfalls and the Atlantic soothed my previously racing brain. I sat on the chilly earth after kicking some snow away and contemplated the world. I contemplated just how simple things like this can change my frame of mind so much, how I’ll remember the day, the adventure, and the setting for years to come, and how chilling on the sofa, buying a new TV, or such stuff, could never live up to these kind of experiences, or ever bring such happiness as a day like this.

I sprang, slipped and tumbled my way back to the road, and slowly started walking back to St John’s, with my thumb aloft. After a 30-45 minute wait I picked up a ride, but the final icing on the cake was the sunset over the lake on the side of the road. There were such vivid colours, from the dark green of the trees, the whites and blues of the semi-frozen lake, and the blues, reds, greys and oranges of the sky. This natural beauty encapsulated my fantastic day. And now I’m sitting here with an inane grin on my face. What a day.

All photos from today are below;