November 10, 2005
Well, here I am on the train again. And heading to Montreal, again. So far, can't see too many interesting people, but it is the middle of the night. But it's not like I could find a better group to run into as B-Rock, Marla and I met on the way to Churchill last month! Nobody could beat that crew! My god that sounds horrible, there are wonderful travellers all over the place....sheesh.
I don't know what it is about riding the train that makes me feel so at home, at ease. The second I find my seat and get myself settled in for the journey, this amazing calm sweeps over me, and I get this incredibly obnoxious feeling that I own the train, and can do whatever the hell I like on it.
After only a few hours on the train today, I found myself finishing the last of the 2 books I had brought along, and found myself growing bored of the girl across from me talking incessantly about how she photographed Nickleback, and it being the highlight of her career thus far, blah blah blah, so I put on my headphones and sat back to enjoy the scenery as the train putt-putted into Northern Ontario.
In the past, I have bashed the scenery of Northern Ontario, almost in the same way that others bash the scenery of my beloved Saskatchewan. But today, I had to admit that I found myself staring in awe of the autumn leaves, the crystal clear lakes, the trees, the rocks and the trees magically growing out of the rocks. Maybe it was due to the Canadian music blaring out of my headphones, with artists singing the praises of their province of Ontario, but I just couldn't help daydreaming about how nice it would be to one day move up here, to the middle of nowhere, build a small cottage on the lakefront, and just exist in nature for all eternity.
November 11, 2005
Tim Horton's. 1:00am. Downtown Toronto.
Couldn't get ahold of anyone to hang out with, and the train doesn't leave for a few more hours. Refuse to pay for a hostel for only a few hours, so here I am, drinking coffee and eavesdropping on conversations of drunken Torontonians, on their way home from the bar. Thank god I'm used to night shifts, staying up all night drinking coffee is a freaking snap. Another XL Double Double? Bring it on!!
Am starting to get really excited about arriving in Montreal....and this time at least I know my way around, and have friends to visit.....and most wonderfully, Mr. Henry will be arriving on Sunday, and promises to track me down as soon as he's dropped off his things at Aviva's and cleaned himself up.
Oh, Mr. Henry.
Ever since I was a pre-pubescent young girl, even on family trips, I had this little daydream running through the back of my mind. I'd imagine running into a local, or a fellow traveller, whom I'd lock eyes with and feel that amazing, immediate, "Click!"with. Of course, a whirlwind friendship/love affair would ensue for the duration of my vacation, and I would forever have a hopelessly romantic story to tell the grandkids. Until now, that little daydream has never come true....but I always knew in my heart and my head, that if I just kept daydreaming, eventually I would get my way.
We met on the train on the way to Churchill. (Oct '05) I noticed him the second I woke up that morning on the train, looked around, and as my eyes met his, I just knew I had to meet him. The looks back and forth began, along with smiles, and the occasional silly comment. Before we reached Churchill, we had introduced ourselves, and made plans to meet up for drinks once we were all settled in our hotels. The three of us, found Mr. Henry and friend, sat down to visit, and then he smiled and winked at me.
We spent the next few days together, mostly in bed, but also quickly getting to know each other, drinking, laughing and talking about everything under the sun. On the train ride back, all I could think was "This can't be it. I can't leave him.", and was very comforted by the fact that he was thinking the same thing of me. But in the end, we kept with our original plans, I got off the train in SmallTown, and he stayed on to continue his travels out east before he had to head back to England.
It didn't take me long to realize that if I didn't go and track him down in Eastern Canada to say good-bye, (or see you later!) I would kick my own ass for all of eternity--not being able to handle one more "What if ???" in my lifetime. The thought of staying in The City, and not going to see him when I have absolutely no reason not to, all the while thinking how I could have, should have done this, was just a revolting thought to me.
And so, here I am, on my way to meet my English bloke. Empty wallet and all.
But the smile on my face just won't go away.