May 26, 2014
Ste. Foy, Quebec – 10:01 a.m.
As it turns out my ticket fix from last night did two things; firstly it took off both eleven hour layovers, and secondly it took off a day. This means that I’ll be arriving in Moncton on the evening of the 26th, rather than the originally planned afternoon of the 27th. Rather exciting for me, to be honest.
From Montreal to Ste. Foy there is mostly just highway. There was a wheat field, but just one. On the way out of Montreal you have to drive past “La Ronde”. La Ronde is an amusment island; like an amusement park, but on its own island (in case you couldn’t tell, that’s a personally coined term). So I took some photographs of an empty roller coaster in a sun rise. Though, I find it worth mentioning, that on our way out of Montreal we passed the church where my cousin was married. I won’t name names, but let’s just say a certain female genius photographer.
Unfortunately, as I’m taking the photos with my phone and writing and publishing the articles on my laptop, I’m not able to add any photos at the moment. But I’ll put up a separate album on the site once I get home that has all the ‘Cross Canada Adventure’ photos in order. I feel I should warn you all in advance that I have a penchant for taking pictures of old buildings and fields.
I am, in fact, really feeling better. Now I can focus on what I’m doing instead of falling asleep on luggage trolleys. I get in to New Brunswick at about 5:40 this evening, and it’s 10:15 now – so I wager I have somewhere between five and seven hours of Quebec left. Which is fine with me, I like Quebec. It’s cute, lots of helpful people (I don’t think I’m actually capable of moving my bags on my own), and good coffee.
But I won’t lie; I’ll be happy to see New Brunswick. Canada has surprised me the whole way here; from helpful strangers making sure I got my bags on the coach, and surprisingly polite teenagers working at fast food restaurants, to a terrain as varied and infused with personality as the people who inhabit it. I keep catching myself putting off writing these articles until I finish watching the sunset, or after we pass this lake, and ever until a new passenger on the bus is finished telling the story of their fishing trip. I thought I would have a lot of time on this trip to catch up on some reading, finish a season of one of my favourite television shows, or maybe get some adequate sleep; but I never expected the view out my window to be so captivating, or to change so dramatically. And as I’m looking out my window now, distracted again by my first sight of the St. Lawrence in far too long, it’s still surprising me. The power of the landscape, the way I can see it has affected the people, and the way even the familiar things, especially the familiar things, bring a sense of wonder I was worried wouldn’t show up on this trip. It makes me begin to think that I’ll get that sense of tireless adventure back. It certainly isn’t going to be taking over any time soon, but I can tell that it’s there; nowhere near a flame but a steady spark that has no intention of going out.