I stepped off the ramp after two long haul flights, a bus ride and a ferry ride and I saw him standing there waiting. I was expecting all the feelings to come rushing at me but curiously I saw him so differently to how I had before. It was like all the layers of expectation and romantic notions just peeled away to reveal a humble and quiet man. Maybe not quite the giant romantic figure that I had latched onto in my mind for over 10 months back home in Australia. He smiled at me shyly and we were awkward with each other as we hugged. He was taking me to spend a few days with his parents until I could get myself sorted in my new home for the next 12 months. We chatted politely on the drive and I knew then and there that my hopes for a rekindled passionate affair were not going to happen. I also think I was ok with that. It was equal parts enlightening and sad.
So here I was on the other side of the world, away from the family that I loved, driving on the wrong side of the road in the beautiful late summer sunshine. I looked out the window as the unfamiliar landscape passed me by and I wondered what this journey may bring to me. I felt scared. What had I done?
In the first few days of arriving I set out and explored my new hometown. I made new connections pretty quickly and exchanged numbers with a fellow Australian who said she would be able to help me find a place. It started to feel promising. I explored, walked a lot and enjoyed the beautiful weather. After spending most of my time back home working, this was a welcome holiday. I loved the giant bookstore in the main street of town where there was a Starbucks café and you could sit in one of the many large seating areas and read books straight off the shelf. I enjoyed sitting in the gentle breeze by the harbour, soaking in the sunlight and reading. These were treasured days and in many ways I wish I could return to that very moment in time.
By the time I embarked on my camping tour, with a small group of people from all over the world, I was feeling ready to have an adventure. This was a budget tour so we cooked all our own meals, erected our own tents, and most planned activities were hiking. I loved every minute. I saw Elk walking freely down the streets, I watched as a bear sat at the top of a waterfall catching salmon as they swam upstream, I saw a Moose not far from me in a lake as I paddled in a canoe, I hiked to the top of the Plain of Six Glaciers at Lake Louise and I learnt how to boot scoot in a bar in Calgary. I made friends with people from France, Holland and the UK. I listened as one of my new Dutch friends sang “Whoomp! There it is” relentlessly and I learnt that I could do things. It was the perfect trip for someone with a broken heart and I felt empowered to explore more of this beautiful country.
When I returned I promptly booked a ticket for Toronto. This was going to be my first truly solo adventure. I would be traveling by myself with family and friends only aware of my start and end point. When I arrived In Toronto it was 6am, I had caught the cheap red eye flight from Vancouver. It took me some time to find and check into the Youth Hostel that I had booked for 3 nights. It felt cold and not the warm engaging space I had anticipated. I dropped by bags there and I started to walk. I walked for about five minutes before I had a panic attack.
No one knew where I was, anything could happen to me, this could end up being a bad mistake! I was scared…
Then I found the legendary St Lawrence Market where I ordered myself a bagel breakfast and had a charming conversation with an elderly local man as he drank his coffee. I realised I would never have struck up a conversation with a stranger if I wasn’t by myself. I came to a realisation.
No one knew where I was, which meant I could do whatever I liked. Anything could happen to me which, if I was smart and stayed safe, meant I could have some great adventures. This could end up being a really good thing.
Stay tuned for Part 3.
