The Cold Plunge: A Foggy Start on the East Coast

In this post, I talk about leaving Janine in Vancouver and heading east to Newfoundland, where I would spend two weeks researching The Old Hag, a local urban legend.

I hardly slept the night before departing the Sunshine Coast. I put it down to a mix of nervous excitement about starting the journey to the east coast of Canada, and sadness about my west coast journey coming to an end.

Janine and I ate one last breakfast together, packed up and drove to catch the ferry back to North Vancouver.

This time, we were being tailed by the water police, who were conducting practice drills in their zodiac boats, riding the whitewash churned up behind the ferry.

Once off the ferry, Janine dropped me at Lonsdale Quay. We hugged and said our goodbyes, but we already had plans for more adventures in Nova Scotia one day.

I caught the Seabus ferry to Waterfront Station, and then the train to the airport. I had a long wait ahead of me, as my flight to Montreal wasn’t due to depart until 10.45 pm. I had nothing more I wanted to see in the city, so I decided to wait out the time at the airport and make the most of it by catching up on some writing.

I couldn’t check in my bag until 6.45pm, so I found a spot in the food court and set my computer up at a table. I had barely opened my laptop when I received a notification on my phone that my flight had been delayed half an hour to depart at 11.15pm.

I finally checked my bag at 7.30pm, and headed through security to my departure gate to wait out the next three hours. I stretched out on empty seats and watched an episode of the Australian true crime series Underbelly on the streaming service Tubi.

When the time came to board the flight to Montreal, we were delayed another twenty minutes due to a customs issue with a passenger. I was starting to panic- the time between my connecting flights from Montreal to St. John’s was shrinking rapidly.

Finally we departed at 11.45pm. I had taken two 2.5ml gummies I had bought on the Sunshine Coast, but I was too wired and tired to sleep at first. It did mean I was awake to see the magnificent colours of the sunrise. I managed a nap toward the end of the almost five-hour flight.

Fortunately in Montreal, the aircraft pulled up two gates away from my next departure gate. I disembarked one flight and immediately queued to board the next one. More relaxed, I napped better on the second flight, waking just in time to witness the plane come into land at St. John’s International Airport through a cloud of fog.

St. John’s International Airport terminal was the place where I lost the first of many belongings I would misplace in Newfoundland. First to go was my bamboo travel pillow. I approached a member of airport staff, who checked to see if anything had been left on the plane. There hadn’t. I had visited the washroom at the arrivals lounge when I had disaembarked, but after the journey I had just been on, I couldn’t be bothered tracking it down.

Stepping outside the terminal, I was met with a blast of wet, icy North Atlantic air. I had planned to catch two buses from the airport to my accommodation at Memorial University, but visibility was poor and I had no idea where I was in comparison to where I needed to be. So I booked an Uber.

I checked in at Memorial, unpacked and called on Uber once more, ordering in Chinese takeaway for dinner. That evening I made more plans for my time in Newfoundland, and finished a blog post. Looking out my window, the thick fog was disconcerting. I had never experienced anything like it before.

The next morning, after taking advantage of the continental breakfast included in my stay at Memorial University student accommodation, I booked my flight to and accommodation for Toronto . It was two weeks away, and I felt a sense of relief that that was done, and I could focus on Newfoundland.

The purpose of my trip to St. John’s was to conduct research for Parasomnia, a story I was working on about the Old Hag, a local superstition associated with sleep paralysis. That afternoon, I had a research appointment at the Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive, or MUNFLA for short. I had contacted the staff ahead of time, and they had kindly sent me a list of records they had about the Old Hag, which they had pulled and laid out ready for me. I spent two hours pouring through the records, taking notes and photographs.

That evening, I decided to celebrate the successful start to my research with a glass of wine at the university bar.

I hope you’re enjoying coming along with me on The Cold Plunge. If you would like to help me along on this adventure, consider donating below. There are preset amounts, or you can customise an amount too. Whatever you choose, your contribution is deeply appreciated.