I will leave tomorrow for the second leg of our "Mongolia and beyond trip". Some people asked me whether this is one of the items on my bucket list. No, it is not; I do not believe in bucket lists. If you try to do something at the end of your life that you have never done before, it might not always work out.
I learned this quite a while ago, at my first trip across Canada. In Weyburn I met Dave and this is (more or less) his story:
I learned this quite a while ago, at my first trip across Canada. In Weyburn I met Dave and this is (more or less) his story:
The Rites of Fall
It was a hot September day when they arrived in Weyburn, Saskatchwan. The campground on the edge of the town was a small one with a view of yellow prairie grass and a few maple trees. The grass was overgrown and ran for miles to the far away horizon. It rippled and surged as the wind blew.
Jill grew a bit anxious. How will she tell Dave?
“Dave,” she turned to him, “how long have we been gone?”
“Almost two months,” he replied and gave her a smile. “We are a bit behind, but we should make it to Vancouver on time.”
“This is not good,” she thought and turned around in the cramped little camper. Her memories had overtaken her for a minute.
She met Dave at the Moncton High and they got married eight years later. Jill just started as a librarian at the public library and Dave had a job with the Ministry of Fisheries. They bought a small house, brought up two children, moved up in their jobs and moved up in the size of their house. Dave traveled to Toronto a few times every year. Jill had never left Moncton. Slowly, they admitted to each other their fears; the fears of their lives under the blanket of daily chores, concerns about the kids and work, and the feeling that their dreams were being slowly grinded into nothingness.
Then, one day they, just when nothing seemed to make any sense any more, they decided. They would take an early retirement, drive from the East Coast to the West Coast, then south during the winter and back home the next summer. The little planning sessions over the spread out maps and the never ending chatter about the trip with the neighbours brought back the sense of their almost forgotten youth.
And now, they were here; stuck in the small camper in a forgotten Saskatchewan town, just because a famous politician was born here. Just to see all the famous places. Damn you Tommy Douglas. Damn you Weyburn. Damn it all.
Jill turned back “Dave, have you ever thought we might not make it?” she said.
“Not make it? Not make it where?” asked Dave.
“Just not make it, just turn around and go back home..”
He gave her a sharp look. “…turn around and go back home? Now? We have just started."
"Maybe," said Jill. "But I just cannot go on with this,” she pointed out at the little cramped space of the trailer. “I can’t sleep here, I can’t eat here. For heaven’s sake, I have to line up to go to the bathroom,” she waved her hand in despair.
“But...” started Dave, “but you wanted it ... more that I did. You picked the trailer with me. You said you were tired of the house, the street, the neighbours, all that stale crap.”
“I did not know” said Jill quietly.
“I did not know.....what?"
“I never knew," she said haltingly, "I just never knew...it is so...so different...so much different... I cannot go on...we should go back home.”
“Back home!?" repeated Dave with disbelief. He opened the door, went out and didn't stop until he reached the edge of the town. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He turned slowly and started to walk back towards the trailer. He looked around as if stunned by the change in the shapes around him. The sky was pure and the evening sun turned every colour to its softest shade. He knew it was all the luck he will ever get.
It was a hot September day when they arrived in Weyburn, Saskatchwan. The campground on the edge of the town was a small one with a view of yellow prairie grass and a few maple trees. The grass was overgrown and ran for miles to the far away horizon. It rippled and surged as the wind blew.
Jill grew a bit anxious. How will she tell Dave?
“Dave,” she turned to him, “how long have we been gone?”
“Almost two months,” he replied and gave her a smile. “We are a bit behind, but we should make it to Vancouver on time.”
“This is not good,” she thought and turned around in the cramped little camper. Her memories had overtaken her for a minute.
She met Dave at the Moncton High and they got married eight years later. Jill just started as a librarian at the public library and Dave had a job with the Ministry of Fisheries. They bought a small house, brought up two children, moved up in their jobs and moved up in the size of their house. Dave traveled to Toronto a few times every year. Jill had never left Moncton. Slowly, they admitted to each other their fears; the fears of their lives under the blanket of daily chores, concerns about the kids and work, and the feeling that their dreams were being slowly grinded into nothingness.
Then, one day they, just when nothing seemed to make any sense any more, they decided. They would take an early retirement, drive from the East Coast to the West Coast, then south during the winter and back home the next summer. The little planning sessions over the spread out maps and the never ending chatter about the trip with the neighbours brought back the sense of their almost forgotten youth.
And now, they were here; stuck in the small camper in a forgotten Saskatchewan town, just because a famous politician was born here. Just to see all the famous places. Damn you Tommy Douglas. Damn you Weyburn. Damn it all.
Jill turned back “Dave, have you ever thought we might not make it?” she said.
“Not make it? Not make it where?” asked Dave.
“Just not make it, just turn around and go back home..”
He gave her a sharp look. “…turn around and go back home? Now? We have just started."
"Maybe," said Jill. "But I just cannot go on with this,” she pointed out at the little cramped space of the trailer. “I can’t sleep here, I can’t eat here. For heaven’s sake, I have to line up to go to the bathroom,” she waved her hand in despair.
“But...” started Dave, “but you wanted it ... more that I did. You picked the trailer with me. You said you were tired of the house, the street, the neighbours, all that stale crap.”
“I did not know” said Jill quietly.
“I did not know.....what?"
“I never knew," she said haltingly, "I just never knew...it is so...so different...so much different... I cannot go on...we should go back home.”
“Back home!?" repeated Dave with disbelief. He opened the door, went out and didn't stop until he reached the edge of the town. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He turned slowly and started to walk back towards the trailer. He looked around as if stunned by the change in the shapes around him. The sky was pure and the evening sun turned every colour to its softest shade. He knew it was all the luck he will ever get.