Moose Hours · Week 28
By Luca Bonafede · July 12, 2026 ·
A lot can happen in a week.
The middle of the night. Rain. Fog. Moose hours.
I was asleep in a company Audi packed with frozen supplies, parked in a corner of the road, forty-five minutes from where I was supposed to be by 10 pm, after more than 24 hours awake.
Let me explain.
If you read last week, you left me stuck on the road north to Twillingate, where my other workplace waits, five hours from St. John’s. Here is the rest of that story.
A trip that usually takes me five hours took me more than twelve. That Saturday, I started the day at 6 am, working in St. John’s, left around 3, picked up my things, and began driving around 5. I was supposed to arrive by 10, for a drink with my friends and colleagues. But every time I looked at the map, the arrival time grew longer, and the worst part was not knowing why. I never check the news before a drive.
Then the signal disappeared, and my entire world shrank to seven songs on Spotify, playing on a loop while I sat in the line.
I later learned that a serious collision near Hillview had closed the Trans-Canada Highway for most of the day, and that a man had lost his life. It put my long night into perspective.
The Trans-Canada Highway is 7,821 kilometres long, and on this island it is the main road across. Near Hillview, it passes through such a narrow part of Newfoundland that there is no way around it: no detour, no second road, nothing. If you are heading north, you cross that exact point, and when it closes, everyone simply waits. So does everyone heading south. I discovered later that a colleague of mine, driving in the other direction, was stuck on the other side too.
When I finally got past the accident, the first gas station I saw looked looted. There was nothing left on the shelves, because so many people had probably been stuck in the area for hours. I was hungry, but there were so many people that I didn’t want to lose another hour. Kudos to the workers, who had one hell of a day. My usual Tim Hortons stop in Clarenville, a few steps from the gas station, had already closed.
I kept going north, and the night kept getting darker, until I reached the point where I simply could not continue.
I have one rule when I drive: if I am tired, I stop and sleep, no matter what. Whoever or whatever is waiting for me won’t matter if I never arrive. On a night when I had just learned what that road had taken from someone else, it was a rule I had no intention of breaking.
So I stopped. That is how I ended up in that Audi, loaded with supplies, unable to even move the seat back. But thanks to my years in the Netherlands, I have trained myself to sleep anywhere, so I slept. The drink with my friends was long gone by then, and after more than 24 hours awake, it was the only reasonable decision.
I finally arrived in the early hours of Sunday, put away the supplies, slept a couple of hours, and went back to work. I felt amazing.
And then the week truly began. It was intense. Plenty of laughs with great people, incredible experiences, and, of course, a little bitterness that sometimes comes with constantly pushing yourself to do more, see more, and experience more. That is just part of Life.
I even got introduced to Washer Toss, a Newfoundland favourite, in one of the most picturesque spots you could imagine, playing with a new dear friend, someone who felt like I had known her for years, as the sun went down. Let’s just say I am absolutely terrible at it. But the sunset was breathtaking, and afterwards we headed off to a concert that was memorable-ish, and then we talked and danced all through the night.
A couple of hours later, I was back at work, knowing that I had a full day ahead of me, plus five hours south to drive. And still, that place gave me so much energy, right up until the very last hour. It was one of those moments when you are aware that you are exactly where you are meant to be: no future to project, no past to regret, just the present to live.
From the colourful streets of St. John’s to the rugged beauty of Twillingate, and every winding road in between, Newfoundland keeps surprising me. The coastline of this island is truly breathtaking.
It was so hard to leave Twillingate. I remember sitting there, delaying and delaying the moment. With temperatures hitting 24°C, it felt like the best place in the world to be, and I love that place. The downside of that warmth is that the icebergs I came for in June were nearly gone. Fortunately, the whales started to show up.
By Friday, I was back at Terre, and there was a fun BBQ right on the patio. What a great place to work, with a great view to go with it.
I chose “Heroes” by David Bowie (1977) as the song of this week because after a night like that, showing up at 7:30 am on the boat, no matter what, I felt like one. Not the kind from the stories, only a very modest sort of hero, one who is terrible at Washer Toss. Damn, I love this place.
I pushed myself pretty hard this week, hard enough that I fell asleep like a baby in the middle of Saturday afternoon instead of going to a party. Perhaps it was the wisest thing I did all week. Life cannot be caught by running after it, and sooner or later the body, like water, finds its own level.
And honestly... I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Or maybe not?
I made Friday’s BBQ. The one I missed was Saturday’s Best Kind BBQ, such a unique event that I think I will regret not going. Because I know that by the end of my time in Newfoundland, the only things I will regret are the ones I didn’t do. Especially because I was meant to meet someone with the kind of spark that is hard to find. But that’s another story.
Another week worth living.
A lot can happen in a week.
Thank you, and ciao for now.
Luca Bonafede
Twillingate, St.John's, NL, Canada 🇨🇦
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