Rocking but not rolling

Amelia Robinson

When I first moved to Newfoundland on May the 4th (be with you) 2010, I was relatively unfamiliar with the place, besides having heard, as a “mainlander” the odd “Newfie Joke” (Newfoundlanders have long been subjected to ridicule and, though this is changing, change comes slowly to a place that is small and to which people’s main exposure may be via these very types of stereotypes and jokes – PSA: the term “Newfie” is not acceptable and not just a short form of Newfoundlander. Please do not use it unless you are from Newfoundland and decide to). Upon arrival a stereotype commonly associated with Newfoundland was borne out robustly; I was welcomed into many homes for meals, offered a wide number of forms of hospitality and quickly integrated into a tight knit community,

One summer day I was invited, via e-mail, to meet friends at a party outside of town near a lake. An e-mail with driving directions was forwarded to me. As a proud Montrealer and devout cyclist I stubbornly typed the approximate highway exit into my phone and decided to bike there. I got off the highway hours later, exhausted, as it was starting to really rain (in Newfoundland it is nearly always raining, but sometimes it is Really Raining). I had crossed the highway back and forth in either direction on this smaller road several times and tried reaching friends by phone but was having no luck.

I read and re-read the e-mail directions forwarded to me for clues. It ended with: “you’ll know when you get there because it’ll be on wheels!” I started to really panic as it was getting dark and then finally I came upon a piece of land where I could see a bonfire in the distance and hear the laughter of friends. I arrived breathless and relieved and greeted friends, eventually pointing out: “this is a cottage, not a mobile home” and they laughed “a cottage? fancy!”

In Newfoundland it is common to have a home more remote than your primary residence and which is usually used as a base for fishing and hunting. This is referred to as a cabin. In Montreal, where I am from, friends may have had access to secondary homes, principally for leisure, and these would be called cottages.

The issue I had encountered trying to meet friends at this particular cabin was that I interpreted the sentence “it’ll be on wheels” literally. It is, in fact, an expression similar to “off the hook” or “wild” meaning to let friends know to expect a party when they arrived. I will never again make the grave mistake of expecting something “on wheels” to be capable of rolling rather than rocking.