Day 59 of 69. The Anglican Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, St. John’s, Newfoundland.

Despite not getting to bed until almost 2am, I was up only just in time to watch Queen Elizabeth’s delicate approach to Newfoundland’s capital, St. John’s via a narrow opening in the cliffs ahead. I took the first photograph at 7.24, having thrown on the clothes I planned to wear today. I legged it from my stateroom, starboard aft on 8 Deck, to the farthest space forward on 11 Deck, just ahead of the “bowling green.” Between the panes of smoked glass, there is enough room to squeeze a small camera, and obtain both excellent forward pictures and video with little “shake” although the wind noise will have to be muted on any future DVD.

The pictures below depict views from Queen Elizabeth as she enters St. John’s harbour.

I visited the Queens Room in a vain attempt to acquire a place on a tour, but apart from town and out of town hikes, everything was sold out, with no cancellations forthcoming. Unknown to me, I left my camera there….mislaid for a second time…and then recovered, this time from the Purser’s Desk, after breakfast in the Lido, and another frantic search.

Now, I was equipped to explore and attend Sung Eucharist at St. John’s Cathedral, St. John’s, NF. On the way, I met Joan, a very easy on the eye 28 year old from Winnipeg, s scratching a living serenading passers-by on her guitar. Seemingly, she gets herself around North America, her choice of lifestyle. She explained this brave decision. The more one acquires, the more one clings to what one now has. People with less, share more. I parted with 20 Canadian Dollars which, hopefully, helped.

I continued up the hill to the elevated Cathedral and was just in time for the 11 o’clock Sung Eucharist. The hymns erred on the evangelical side, but the liturgy was from Canada’s very slightly different version of The Book of Common Prayer. I was unfamiliar with the musical setting, but it was gorgeous and appropriate. And the organist seemed to delight in strange harmony for the final verse of each hymn. As closer to home, there was the persistent irritation of people whispering during crucial parts of the service, even during the silence immediately after the Communion. As usual, I accepted a general invitation for refreshments after the service. Thus, I got to see some of that Cathedral’s “behind the scenes.” Unlike St. John’s Buxton, St. Magnus in London and that wonderful church in Vancouver, a few people did say “Hello,” but most seemed stuck in their own routines. What I did notice was the immediate removal of the hymn numbers from at least six boards, as well as immediate clearance of the altar. Oh! How I miss church work!

There were two very young infants being baptised that day. At least one was the grandchild of a senior clergyman, and a momentous occasion for all concerned. This, too, was very reminiscent of home.

Thankfully, those brief nocturnal pangs of homesickness have passed. Indeed, when waking up for a “comfort stop” last night, I took the momentary opportunity to step out onto my balcony and look out on to a dark merging of sea and sky, with a none-too-bright crescent moon creating a dimmed reflection on the ocean’s surface, indeed, a rare experience. Although seemingly plenteous, I do value each day on board ship. There are not too many of those left, now.

Sunday would not be Sunday without its weekly celebratory feast. After an official tour of the Cathedral with tour guide Claire, I ventured up the hill to “The Rooms,” St. John’s museum complex with excellent cafe/restaurant, affording some wonerful elevated views.

I do wish sail-aways were later than around 5 to 5.30pm. Having to be on board by 4.30 doesn’t leave a great deal of flexibility unless one is well organised. (I rarely am). However, I have walked around the town, and of course, I would love to come back. Cruise ships are less rare in this part of the world, and opportunities should present themselves.