“Newfoundland was beautiful, stunning, get no argument on that score from Gary. Flying in the first time, the Airbus banked over the sea and turned back for the airport so Gary could see the unassailable cliffs plunging into the cold cold waters. There were hues of blue and green and grey down there with weight, colours Gary did not know existed. But the Newfies were hell-bent on despoiling their outpost. Gary had never seen so much litter. He’d never seen so much garish roadside signage — firewood, road salt, discount nail salons. He never got over how ugly were the buildings in St. John’s.”