3 months have passed since Sophie and I worked for two weeks in paradise with the large red faced man with his O’lMiluakee, 3 months ago Sophie left to Italy an I continued picking fruit for the next couple of months. It doesn’t really feel like 3 months ago I was in bed by 3 in the afternoon and up for work at 11.30pm working through until sunrise, it was 3 months ago that both my back tires blew out on the way to the new farm, 3 months ago I was lucky to break down, it was 3 months ago I met you and your dog, that night on the side of the road, it hasn’t quite been 3 months since you left, though these months have been wrecking my mind.
Here I am dreaming of the serenity set besides some crystal clear body of water, me and my van, nothing but the sound of the stream as it runs through the cedar trees. The birds sing, I yawn, close my eyes and lay back into a feeling of freedom. In control of breath, clear of thought as the mind wanders into peace.
Maybe I am craving the serenity due to the chaos and frustrations of my current situation, that being said this is a subject for later on. as I write this I am a tipping point of travelling in close quarters.
I am yet to witness the beauty of those mountains in the winter months, I imagine its pretty special. British Columbia during the summer, I must say was stunning to the eye, though to my mind was a hard place to find rest, this is where things take a turn, I find myself hanging out over the worlds edge starring into oblivion when suddenly a flicker in the corner of my eye catches my attention, slowly turning my head I am greeted with bus loads of tourists unloaded every half hour to smoke a cigarette and see the sights through the eyes of their phones.
It had taken me sometime to recognize the fact that I hadn’t seen a maple leaf for 2 months into my trip, despite it being the countries emblem, and the big sticker on the back window of the van, I think that’s where id rather be and like to see, kicking through the autumn leaves, beanies, big socks, hot wine in a hot tub after a day of skiing though the Rockies. That sounds more like Canada to me.
The west coast personally feels like the entire west coast feels from Vancouver to L.A, it’s a very progressive state. And there’s no Maples, just pine trees, everywhere your look, pine tree’s for miles. It’s seems like a normal thing for people to shop at the organic grocer, gulping down the free samples of kombucha with a side of vegan sausage. With saying that goes the fact that there are a lot of people unable to afford the lifestyle, broke and struggling to find work, or to lazy to work, I don’t know, it’s really just the way of the world anywhere you travel, the rich over throwing the poor, though I found throughout Canada there was a lot of focus on helping the poor where they could, that’s nice. Throughout my travels I was recommended to make a stop at the local church and food bank depending on the day. I stopped a couple of times for a free lunch on a Sunday afternoon accompanied by a reasonably large box of food and general hygiene and supplies, also very nice.
The Canadians are very polite people, apologizing with a distance of twenty steps before making their way in front of you in an open street in some remote rural area of no interest to anybody. You yourself don’t really know why you are standing there. Always smiling and conversing with such attention to detail. Not everyone, though I would consider the general population very friendly and willing to help. There was that time the alternator broke on the van, we where out in some rural town coming on dawn, thought it would have been a bit of a fuck around. Turns out the man across the road could see we where having troubles, he was over at an imports mechanic who had no interest in playing around with an almost 40-year-old piece of Sexy American muscle.
The man was waiting around for his son’s car to be fixed, he had some time to kill and I not sure he actually gave a second thought about it at all, just some natural reaction engrained into the common Canadian. The man walks over the road with a toolbox in hand, “Hey there, need some help?”, I knew the alternator was the issue. After a short conversation he asked if we could use his tools to remove the alternator, once we have it removed we are to meet him over the road where he will drive us to his good friend’s place just outside of town, who just happens to have given up being a full time mechanic and focus his work, solely on the repair and rebuild of alternators. Just our luck. Within half and hour, we had our alternator re-built and ready to be re-installed. “how much do I owe ya” I ask. The mechanic in a very cool and casual manner turns to me and says, “don’t worry about it, you where very lucky to have met this man”.
Back at the van, a matter of 5 minutes to re-install the missing piece to our travelling puzzle. A quick jumpstart and we where back on the road, this minor mishap, no more then an hour and a half to resolve. This was a lot to do with Sophie and her positive out on the universe, have faith and things will work out just fine.
I thought at times Canada came across a bit boring, though this was probably due to my own decisions of where I place my self, long days doing something unenjoyable when it’s a simple matter of just walking away onto the next, choosing to spend as little money as possible, sacrificing luxury for distance, and I suppose its an entirely different experience overall.
Canada’s not boring, I’ve given countless compliments to its natural beauty. Its just that it feels the same as any other country within the commonwealth, take me to an island somewhere in Asia where they understand nothing but cheap beer and service with a smile.
I have been told quite a lot in my life that Australians and Canadians are very similar, and I guess were quite alike the the brits if you think about it. Those comemorable plates are sitting somewhere on the shelves of some poor lonely people, so low to put their faith in god they must pay tribute to the evil empire that is the royal family, That’s unfair.
Its just all a little to familiar for my common western background, you could say I felt right at home, without the cute cuddly marsupials and the damp humid smell of the eucalyptus on a warm wet summers day. Its nice to be able to speak and to be understood, sometimes. Speaking with a Canadian is like speaking to an Australian though a Canadian has this kind of surfer dude/easy going kind of speech, unless they are from Quebec, then this is a very unique accent of its own, nothing like it in the world, like somebody trying to mix French and English into the same pronunciation of a world whilst trying to wrap their swollen tongue around a small plum, Where as we speak with a cruder, base sense of humor, unnecessarily loud with an accent that sounds like decades of drunken convicts, stumbling… I mean settling on that dry arid land, coming home to the family after a hard day’s work knocking back pints at the pub, “Oi love Where’s the bloody kids, tell those little cunts to bring their Ol’man a drink, fucking lazy lil shits”.
It’s a Beautiful place to see, and a more wonderful place to be, it always a pleasure as the traveler to knock a sense of wonder off the list, Canada, I will leave it up to you to create your own perspective, I do most definitely recommend a visit.
Time to move on from a beautiful past, a much needed cleanse, little did I know I wasn’t appreciating it enough.
A sudden spontaneous decision to leave Canada and leave those mysterious arms that I wasn’t finished to lay. With no starter motor and a 16 hour drive on a spare tire we entered into a world of money, marijuana and tense vibrations, that’s up next in what ever this is that I call my life. : )