The smell of ice — that’s the strongest sensory memory that hits me first as I sit down to write about our time in Fleur de Lys, Newfoundland. And I’m not talking ice like you pull out of your freezer. I’m talking about the smell of glaciers so clean and mineral rich they overwhelm every other smell around. I find myself sucking in air so deeply I get lightheaded, because I just can’t get enough of it.
No one told me you could smell icebergs. Some reports say that old sailors claim they smell like cucumbers. If you mean frozen cucumbers then that’s probably the closest description, although it still doesn’t quite capture the scent. This was my first time to see them and it wasn’t even what brought us to this remote northern outport.
We were here to meet The Woman of the Sea.
Why Fleur de Lys and not Twillingate
Throughout this trip, when people found out we were exploring the northern region, their faces would light up and immediately mouth the words “you’re going to Twillingate?” Their faces would fall when we said “no, we’re going to Fleur de Lys.” Locals and tourists showed the same response. It was like we’d rejected their favorite toy. Why on earth would anyone skip the most popular tourist destination in northern Newfoundland? The place with the biggest icebergs, best restaurants and photo opportunities.
Our answer was simple. We came to the north to meet people and to witness the daily life of an outport town. It would be hard to accomplish that in Twillingate or the exclusive Fogo Island, but we felt sure we’d find it in the Baie Verte Peninsula, specifically amongst the Petit Nord communities. Named by the French who would seasonally fish these coasts for cod, the Petit Nord stretches from Quirpon to Cape St. John, a coastline dotted with tiny outports that each have their own unique personality and history.
Fleur de Lys' Woman of the Sea
We were staying in Fleur de Lys at Woman of the Sea, home and culinary playground for one of the most loving souls we’ve ever met. Kim is a trained chef who offers catered dinners from her home and two bedrooms with a shared bath to rent. When we were perusing Airbnb for lodging, there was something about Kim’s listing that drew us to her place and we’ve learned to trust our intuition. Call it fate, kismet, Divine Providence, or cosmic forces, I can tell you we were meant to meet Kim. Something clicked the minute we walked through her door, welcomed with coffee and tea buns.
Our first night in Fleur de Lys was spent visiting with Kim at her kitchen table over fresh pan-fried cod, mashed potatoes and tangy slaw. Born and raised here, Kim has led a fascinating life which has brought her across the globe and back. She hopes to write a memoir and I know it will be a powerful story. With her lyrical Newfie accent and direct way of speaking, Kim is a great storyteller. She’s also an avid reader, her bookshelves are full of cookbooks and history books about Irish independence and rural Newfoundland. A soul sister for sure! To convey just how much we connected with Kim, she used the term “Salt of the Earth” when describing us in our review on Airbnb and I just couldn’t believe it because I had written notes about our stay here the night before and used that exact phrase to describe the residents of Fleur de Lys.
Sam's Place of healing
Kim became our gateway to Fleur de Lys and the Baie Verte area. Through her we met others who continued our education. Like Mary and Bernadine from Sam’s Place, where we learned that “couldn’s” was “what I couldn’t eat yesterday I’ll eat today” – aka leftovers. We warmed ourselves with moose soup (which had been secretly stashed for us at Kim’s request) while Mary (originally from Ontario) kept us laughing as she expounded on all the reasons she hates Newfoundland in the winter (but you can tell she absolutely loves it here). Bernadine was the mother hen of Sam’s Place, quietly welcoming guests with a twinkle in her eye, shaking her head fondly at Mary’s antics. She reminded me so much of Iris who used to work for the Jennings Library – same twinkle, same love and joy pouring out of her.
There’s something sacred about visiting Sam’s Place. Part cafe, part living memorial, this building is the beating heart of Fleur de Lys, representing both the best and worst of humanity. You will find a tragic story here, the kind of brutality and loss that no parent should ever have to endure, but you won’t find the despair that is expected with such pain. Instead, you’ll find a warm light-filled space, where neighbors from outports all around come to visit or have an informal therapy session. Where smiles and hugs are given out like candy. Eric and I went upstairs, where Sam’s childhood playthings are on display. We read the letters on the walls, a mere sampling of 15,000 that were sent to Sam’s parents from all over the world, reminding us all that there is more light in this world than darkness. Sam’s parents, Millie and George, built a place of healing, not just for themselves but for all those who pass through these doors.
I purposefully don’t go into details about what happened to Samantha Walsh because I feel the story that should be remembered is one of light and love, but if you want to try to understand the impact on this tiny community, you’ll find an excellent podcast here.
Exploring trails near Fleur de Lys
The reason we needed hot moose soup at Sam’s was because we’d been hiking in the rain that morning. Many outports in northern Newfoundland have at least one community trail that leads to the water, each offering beautiful views of the coastline in different ways. We only spent two nights in Fleur de Lys and the weather didn’t cooperate, but we managed to sneak in as many of these trails as possible.
Our first Petit Nord trail was the Ocean View Trail in Pacquet, one of the best short trails we walked in Newfoundland. It began with a viewpoint at Chesley’s Hole, so named for the man who once fell down its cavernous depths and lived to tell about it. It followed the coast out to a large Canadian flag at the tip of the harbor. There was a forest path which looped back to the parking lot but we didn’t take it, choosing to retrace our steps because we couldn’t get enough of the icebergs.
We drove to Coachman’s Cove for our next hike. At the parking lot in front of a large outdoor oven we met a man who I will call Fonz. I don’t know his real name and it’s not from lack of trying. He told us his name several times but his accent was so thick we couldn’t determine what he was actually saying. Fonz held us captive for over 30 minutes while he talked proudly of his town and how a neighboring town (which will remain unnamed) “stole” their artifacts. He talked about working in the asbestos mine which closed down years ago. His face was ravaged by what I can only guess was a very hard life, and it was a stark reminder of why so many Newfoundlanders from these remote outports have left over the years. He also told us how the bread ovens are used during local festivals and Come Home Years.
The first Come Home Year was in 1966 in an effort to increase tourism by inviting expats to return home and rediscover the wonders of Newfoundland. Individual communities continued that tradition throughout the years and in 2022 the provincial government promoted another big Come Home Year. Locals told us a small town might double or triple its population in a day during the events. There would be so much traffic on roads that local entities were begging for volunteers to help fill potholes. Despite the headaches, there’s a definite pride and fondness for this tradition. It speaks to the Newfoundland value of keeping people at the heart of everything.
Back in Fleur de Lys we hiked their Ocean View Trail. Our intent was to also hike the Spotted Point Trail behind the Dorset Soapstone Museum but weather was not on our side and the museum was closed for the season. Everyone said it’s a great trail, combining excellent views with the history of the soapstone quarry which dates back 1,200-1,600 years ago when pre-Inuit peoples used this resource.
Stories and warm hospitality
Our second evening in Fleur de Lys found us sitting on couches, reading and listening to Willie Nelson and Lucinda Williams as Kim cooked dinner for a book club group. They were discussing The Pearl that Broke Its Shell by Nadia Hashimi, which I found interesting considering Kim’s life experiences. I could tell she was intrigued by the book. Lucy, Kim’s neighbor growing up, was her kitchen assistant for the evening and was delightful to visit with. One of the women in the book club had worked in Lafayette as a travel nurse years ago, the same hospital our friend Lauren works. I should stop being surprised by how interconnected our world truly is.
My favorite part of the morning was listening to Kim whistle in the kitchen while she cooked us breakfast. I’ve never heard anyone who could whistle a tune that well. When asking Kim about what winters were like, she told us about the year the water froze and a polar bear crossed over from Labrador into their town and everyone had to shelter in place for two days while they hunted the polar bear. They stunned him and flew him back home on a helicopter. Even apex predators are treated with respect here.
One only needs to visit Fleur de Lys for a day to understand that these coastal communities know hard times, but what makes them so special in this world is how survival has molded them into a compassionate, hopeful people. People like Kim and Millie and her team at Sam’s Place who find joy in everyday moments and know their joy is amplified when sharing that joy with others. You know the warmth you feel when you walk into a local cafe and they’ve got the fireplace going and your waitress calls you lovie? That’s what Fleur de Lys and north Newfoundland feels like. Like one big polar bear hug, warmth amidst a cold rugged land.
Want more hiking trails in northern Newfoundland? See our Iceberg Trails of Northern Newfoundland on Trips to Walkabout. And if you missed our stories about Gros Morne and Blow Me Down Mts, read Trails and Tales of Western Newfoundland.
