Back to Brisbane...

"Here my voyages of discovery terminate. Their toils and their dangers, their solicitudes and sufferings, have not been exaggerates in my description. On the contrary, in many instances, language has failed me in the attempt to describe them. I received, however, the reward of my labours, for they were crowned with success." Alexander Makenzie, July 22nd, 1793. Final entry in his journal chronicalling his successful attempt to travel by canoe from Fort Mackay across the Rocky Mountains to Bella Coola on the Pacific.

Another airport *sigh*. This time it's Vancouver and I'm leaving soon for Australia. Home, I suppose, but I've long maintained that home is people, not place. So then where is home if not with him? All will be explained in due course, dear reader, but for now I am allowing myself annonymity, mystery, intregue of sorts. Frustrating tho it might be, you will just have to wait for the full story to emerge.

I was blessed to have on this day of my departure from Canada, a beautiful sunny and clear Vancouver day. I ate ripe blackberries from a vine near Kitsilano Beach and contimplated my learnings at this, my journey's end. Though as cliche as it is, while one journy is ending, another is most definitely beggining.

For now, I can only ask for a flight free of crying babies, for my cat to be well and happy when I return, and for good friends who will welcome me back and listen with interest, even if well-meaningly feigned, to my travel tales. Brisbane, here I come.

Horse riding in France

Written Aug 25

Back from a week's riding in the south of France (the little beach town of Mimezan en Plague to be exact), Mike and I are nursing bruises, scrapes and a variety of sore muscles. The riding was fantastic, if a little wild at times. Gallops along beaches and through forest trails have a whole different element when if a group of 14. Such a completely different experience to the scenic awe and sedate pace of our ride in the Rockies. Instead of swimming in a glacial lake, we swam in the warm surf of the Atlantic Ocean, this time with the horses.

The horses were all Anglo-Arabs, the same breed as my first horse, Zack. Lots of stamina, lots of energy and almost too intelligent for their own good. We rode with a mixed group of French, Italians, Brits, Irish and Swiss and had a great deal of time to ascertain a few national personality quirks. The French members of the group ranged from incredibly warm and friendly to a bit cold and there was one downright rude woman who griped, in French which I am now understanding more and more of, about the amount of English being spoken within the group. She and another woman refused to speak with Mike and the two others on the ride who spoke no French would only speak to me, in slow, deliberate French, when absolutely necessary. In an amusing twist, I had quite a few conversations with another woman with me speaking mostly English and her sticking with French, most of which I could understand. She spoke English just fine and seemed to be understanding it perfectly, but she wouldn't speak it to me unless I really didn't get a word or phrase. While it annoyed me a little at the time, it was actually an excellent way to improve my French.

London Town

Written Aug 15th

For those playing the home game, I'm now in London, staying with Mike, a fellow horse-rider who I met on our ride in Banff. I've been here a week now and it really has flown by. Much to Mike's amusement, wandering the streets of London the first few days, I kept exclaiming, with a little irony and a lot of glee "I'm in London!". It's been an odd sort of thrill to be in a city with such heritage and history, and to see in person so many places and icons that have featured in novels, plays and poems that I've read over the years. Living my life in two former British colonies, It's fascinating to see the roots of my home countries reflected in the architecture and culture of the original. The weather has been weird, even for an English summer and as we left Leicester Square after a massive downpour, we looked back to see a beautiful double rainbow arch over the buildings. Just gorgeous.

We ventured out of London to Henley-on-Thames, as picturesque an English country town as one could hope to find. Beautiful rolling hillsides, tiny cottages with flower-laden gardens, grand estates, and impossibly narrow, tree-tunneled lanes. We walked through forests and meadows and along the Thames itself, and after marveling at the amazing light and coloured clouds overhead, were promptly caught in a thunderstorm.

With the rain settling in the next day, we decided to forgo another walk and drove to Oxford instead. To be in such an important seat of academic history was really quite cool, and the old buildings and colleges really did impress me, especially as they are still for the most part used for their original purpose.

I must admit that the pace (and cost!) of life in London has me a bit overwhelmed after the mellow expanses and laid-back nature of Canada. I can see how living in one of the world's great cities can be exciting and energising, but I can also see that it could be quite draining; emotionally and financially. But I will give it a chance. It's not somewhere that I could ever see myself living long or even medium-term, but I think for a year it would be fun. I'll wait and see what the universe decides to offer up on this one.

On unanswered questions

This evening I will leave for London and then France, and while I'll come back through Vancouver for a few days 2 weeks form now, this is where I'm saying my goodbyes to my cross-continent adventure. I've covered over 6000kms in the past 3 months and have experienced places, people, and emotions that were entirely new to me, although at time vaguely familiar. I know for certain that I am more patient and tolerant now that I was when I left Brisbane at the end of April.

I'm also, much to my surprise, not much closer to completely answering that question that I've carried with me on this trip: What next? What will the next chapter of my life be, especially in terms of career? While the career question is still very much unanswered, it has become far less pressing than it was 4 months ago when I knew without a doubt that I wanted to change careers. To do something completely different. While I haven't answered the question of exactly what that will be, I do now know with absolute certainty that whatever it is, it won't be central to my sense of who I am. I no longer feel the need to be defined by my work and that in itself is so very liberating. So I'll find something that I enjoy, that gives me a lifestyle that I can be comfortable with and that gives me a little of the recognition and feeling of contribution that I need. But my life is so much more than a job title and so I'm comfortable that that question will answer itself soon enough.

Back in Montreal

Written August 4th

Well. I haven't been writing much the past week or so, or at least not much in the way of my journal ramblings. I think it's due to having had company now on the final leg of my cross-Canada trek.

After Jolyon and I left Isle D'Orleans, we continued north along the St Laurence River, the van well-stocked with cheese, produce, bread, and tasty tasty preserves from the farmers on the island. We took the long way round to Parc du Grand Jardins, a national park according to the Quebecquois, but as it's not run by Parks Canada, the group that runs the rest of Canada's national parks, it's technically a provincial park, but calling it a national park fits with Quebec's independent statehood mentality. The separatist movement may have died out after the last referendum, but the spirit is still evident in a lot of small things. I finally got to do a big hike, my earlier efforts having been thwarted by snow, bear warnings, and bad GPS information. Leaving Jolyon to tackle a smaller hike (dig!) I headed out to summit Mount Lac Cygnes, crossing 2 other summits covered in beautiful alpine meadows along the way. The trail was as boulderous as I've yet to come across and so steep that in places I was using hands as well as feet to make my way up. But the views and the sense of accomplishment when I did make the first summit were well worth the effort.

After dropping Jolyon at the airport in Montreal, I've shifted focus to the logistics of leaving Canada. I've found a lovely young family who will be my van's new owners. Jean-Francois and Melanie and their two daughters, Felicie (4) and Emma (1) are so delighted to finally have found the right Westfalia for them, my twinges of sadness about selling what has become my home are tempered by knowing that Clauss is going to a good family who will have many many adventures with him. Strange how sentimental I've become over an object that represent both security and freedom.

Jean-Francois and Melanie have been wonderfully hospitable too. Jean-Francois is a pyrotechnician who works on the annual international fireworks competition in Montreal. He invited me to join him to watch the final show after spending the afternoon with Melanie and Felicie at La Rond, the huge amusement park where the fireworks show is held. I hung out with the rest of his crew and had a very backstage view all the preparations. Such a wonderful way to spend my 26th birthday.

Now I'm staying with Jean-Francois and Melanie at their lovely little townhouse in Little Italy, in Montreal. Clauss is happily tucked in their backyard, snug between Melanie's tiny but productive veggie patch and an assortment of kid's toys. Both my French and my understanding of Quebecois culture are benefiting from my time with them. Yesterday afternoon Jean-Francois and I heading to the enormous market nearby to buy ingredients for a lovely dinner that we made together. I won't even start right now on how amazing the food and produce is here. At least not before I've had breakfast!