yyt

at the end of term, being asked what i was planning to do, i mentioned my driving once again to the rock and my desire - since i have now been in every province east of the prairies - to hit all the provinces before the end of summer.

it was met with horror from one student. that’s so far why not fly?

my glib answer was typical of someone who finds anything longer than a tweet “war and peace”. turning onto autoroute 20 just beyond the city of québec the true answer was made apparent.

while i tend to grin and bare the area between the u.s. border and montréal, once on either 40 or 20 things change. it is here that i see the geography change hints of the north show up from the first moose warnings to the beginning of the pine forests that first whiff of newfoundland while still in the nation of québec.

having said this though southern ontario is necessary as i need the flat of the land outside sarnia to appreciate the views of lake ontario around oshawa, the beginning of the saint lawrence at kingston, the wetlands that confuse the ontario québec border. how can i see that topographies have little to do with borders.

how does one experience 100km/h meaning 130 in ontario, 100 south of montréal but 120 between montréal and québec and 150 on the côte sud.

from however high you are in a plane how can you distinguish the flat of southern ontario from the that of côte sud of the st lawrence. a comfortable flat between with the river and the laurentians in the background. where silos and churches compete.

there is no scale in a plane like there is no scale from map to map, ontario prince edward island they both fit on the same size map. going from sarnia to cornwall i now know what 800 kilometres feels like, i also know that while it is the same distance between port-aux-basques and st. john’s the latter takes longer.

how much time should travel take?

how much dignity should be surrendered for speed. full body pat downs and no liquids?

would i have seen the skate border along autoroute 20 westjetting it east?

how about the oh so tired overworked server at the tim horton’s in brockville who wasn’t sure what was left as even though it was 10pm she had just started but none the less when she had got her bearings, apologised for not having bread for a large egg salad sandwich nor lettuce - we’re just off the 401 and it has been non stop - gave me extra tomatos to make up for it.

or the worker at canadian tyre who commiserated with me when those out of wedlock pæderasts at bank of america denied my purchase.

or the people at the town and country motel who took the time to have a bit of small talk before giving me a room over looking the saint john river.

there is the advance warning of atlantic canada along 185 between riviere-du-loup and the new brunswick border and while the trans-canada in new brunswick is now all new and moose free with an arizona like border fence to keep them off the road - playing tag with the saint john river proves that you certainly in a new terrain.

i can taste the coffee at the bridge street café in downtown sackville - and wish i wasn’t rushing and could stay for food.

i can see the red of the mud when the rivers leading to the bay of fundy are drained due to low tide.
i can marvel at another flat of the tantramar marshes.
i make sure that i am not importing bees in to nova scotia.

but above all, while photographing a ball park in potlotek nova scotia, a machine pulls up and the driver’s window rolls down. having seen me photographing the chubby’s in st peter thinks that i would be interested in potlotek chapel island to the non native. it is a sacred place for the mi’q mak. fred then goes on to tell me that i am interested her sister works for the mi’q mak interpretive centre and she could arrange to take me out to the island by canoe to look around and photograph. when i come back through if i have a couple of hours it could be possible. it is still not the tourist season so being out there could be great.

now i feel like i am in a rush. jokingly tell her that she is going to have me miss my ferry and apologising in advance as i shall be racing through cape breton on my way to nyc for a graduation. nevertheless she hands me her email and says if it is possible let her know.

i head down to the shore to look at the island - her cousin said it was a mere kilometre away - and she is right, i so want to get on that island. i thank her in absentia for telling me about the place and try to get in touch with my sister to see when exactly i have to be in nyc.