The road from my hotel to the office took me around the back of St. John’s, Newfoundland. Up and over the hill, in front of the Confederation Building, through the fog to the mall. Yes, the newspaper in St. John’s is in a mall, but I digress.

So there I was, daydreaming, driving the same route I’d driven every day for the past three weeks when I saw the most beautiful view. There it all was, the harbor, the rocks, the Atlantic ocean. Why had I not noticed this before? Well, because this was the first time in three weeks that I’d seen the sun. It was the first time in three weeks that the fog had lifted to the point where I could see for more than 50 yards in any direction.

Later that afternoon, after the sun went away, I was walking to lunch with one of the locals and talking about the depressing, gray weather.

“This is actually a pretty nice day for Newfoundland,” he said. “It’s not raining.”

I should mention, this was a man who’d moved to Newfoundland from California. It seems the fog had eaten his soul and crushed his spirit.

Newfoundland protip #1: Newfie is not the preferred nomenclature, it’s Newfoundlander, please. According to locals, Newfie is the “n-word” up there. It’s all right for them to use it, but for an outsider, it’s considered derogatory.

There’s more to Newfoundland than the weather. If you ever make it there, there is some pretty good food. Find a fish and chips shop and get some fresh cod. Be sure to ask before you order whether it is fresh that day or frozen. It’s harder to find the fresh stuff in the winter, but if you hunt, you’ll find it.

There are plenty of great restaurants in downtown St. John’s, but if you can only hit one, get to the Yellow Belly brewery. The spare ribs are unbelievable and most nights you can find good, local music.

Newfoundland protip #2: Newfoundlanders like to mess with tourists. If something sounds outrageous, be skeptical.

Much like the U.S., cultural norms vary widely from region to region. Newfoundland exemplifies this with their outrageous accents and bizarre cuisine. Don’t be fooled, cod tongues and cheeks (both of which you can get at many restaurants.) Also, if you’re at a bar down on George Street and someone offers to make you an honorary Newfoundlander, graciously decline, unless of course you enjoy cheap rum and kissing dead fish.

That’s right, their ceremony, which is performed at a few bars in St. John’s, involves kissing a cod on the lips, drinking a shot of Newfoundland Screech (rum) and reciting the phrase Indeed I is a Newfoundlander, my old cocky. Long may your long jib draw.

Personally, I had no interest in becoming an honorary Newfoundlander, but I did try the Screech. I can see why Newfoundlanders like it, the burn of the cheap rum washes away the lingering aftertaste of cod tongue.

Newfoundland protip #3: Don’t waste time on paying to see attractions like the Rooms. St. John’s biggest museum is also it’s biggest waste of money. Why spend your time inside anyway, when, in spite of the gray skies, there is so much to see.

Do be sure to go see the Battery. The colorful neighborhood literally hangs off the sides of the cliff overlooking St. John’s Harbour.

Also be sure to check out the basilica of St. John the Baptist and Point Spear, the furthest point east in North America.

Finally, if you’re really bored, you’ve seen it all in St. John’s, take a drive around some of the small towns that line the coast. I’m a huge Red Wings fan, so I made a pilgrimage to Harbour Grace, home of the only Newfoundlander to ever win the Stanley Cup, Detroit Red Wing Dan Cleary. On the trip out, we came across a few fascinating shipwrecks and some beautiful fishing villages.

Newfoundland protip #4: Drive cautiously and watch where you park.

The roads in St. John’s are brutal. A combination of people leaving their studded snow tires on too long and the snow plows literally scraping off the top level of the blacktop each winter and with it, makes for terrible roads and awful drivers. Without wasting too much time on it, let me just share a little story.

It was my last day in St. John’s and I was supposed to spend it relaxing. I got an emergency call from work and had to go in, suffice it to say, I was not pleased.

So as I was pulling in to the mall parking lot I thought I’d found a perfect spot, right near the newspaper’s door, only to find a man sitting in his car, which he’d parked crooked as all hell taking up two spots. As I rolled by I started yelling and swearing as only an American with a sense of entitlement can.

As I walked to the door from my spot down the road, I saw the guy straightening his car out so that he was parked properly, being polite, as only a frightened Canadian can.

For more pictures of St. John’s, Newfoundland, check out my photo gallery on Flickr.

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