Doin' the New-fun-go-go: Part #2

Day #2: Oh Hai Benny!
It's weird; I'd known for years that there was this weird little movie called "The Room," yet I never got around to actually seeing it until I came to St. John's. And yes, it really was because I went to a museum called "The Rooms." Ha ha ha, what a tool am I.

Anyway, I got up a little earlier on Day #2, but not much earlier. Fortunately, there's a restaurant in downtown St. John's called Nautical Nellies that offers delicious brunches, including smoked salmon Eggs Benedict ("Oh Hai Cheap Title Pun!"). All served with a side of Newfoundland charac-- and there goes the blood vessel in my brain as I realize I was about to write that.

 
Next, we went to St. Johns' most famous landmark: Signal Hill, the site of Marconi's historic transatlantic radio transmission, the final battleground of the Seven Year's War, the home of Cabot tower. . .

Yeah, there was a big dog:

And me, I guess. Look at that stupid smile.

Next stop was Quidi Vidi, a small inlet just north of St. Johns' main harbor. First, we went for a tour of the Quidi Vidi Brewery, which, like everything in St. John's, is famous: 

I'm not really a booze kind of guy, so I can't say with any authority whether or not Quidi Vidi's beer was truly great or not, but I liked the samples I tried. I do, however, know an eye-catching ad campaign when I see one:

I hope this doesn't get me into copyright trouble. Or any other kind.

After fooling around on the rocks for an hour or so, we went to the Inn of Olde pub for the main event of the evening: my screech in. Screeching in is the official welcoming ceremony to which newcomers to Newfoundland are subjected. It's actually fairly hard to describe. One thing I can say for sure that it's something you should try once, if not less.

There are two people involved in a screech in: master of ceremonies (here, the 4'7" owner/operator of Inn of Olde) and the victim (in this case, 6'7" me). First, both the victim and the MC don funny looking women's hats, because. . .

Then, the victim eats a whole smoked capelin, save for the tail, which the victim places in his back pocket. This, you see, is the only piece of tail the victim will get whilst in Newfoundland.

Next comes the oath, or the pledge, or the thingy the victim is supposed to say. Here, the MC quotes the oath and victim repeats it. Which sounds simple until you realize that the oath isn't in English; it's in Newfoundland English, b'y. Oh, and the MC has a big wooden spoon ready to smack the victim on the cheek every time he makes a mistake.

After about fifteen minutes of this. . . oh, just look:

I thought the fish was the only piece of tail I was getting in Newfoundland!

The victim kisses a stuffed bird in the ass.

At last, the ceremony ends with the victim taking a shot of Newfoundland's notoriously delicious Screech rum. The victim and the MC then fill out an official document attesting the victim's status as a new citizen of Newfoundland. Unfortunately, I think I left mine on the dash of my sister's car. I'm actually really pissed off about that. All that work, all that suffering, and I leave the official proof in my sister's car.

Okay, I've been a little uncharitable in my description of screeching. Here's to show that there's no hard feelings:

Next time-- Day #3: Whales!