Farewell to the Mighty Maple

I feel like I've been in Canada forever. I only arrived just over a month ago, but time hasn't slipped by as quickly as I expected. I almost feel relieved to be leaving, not because I hate the place, but because I have found myself becoming more and more drained of energy; the same drain I feel back in Hale Barns.

It's partially my own fault. I really should have made more of an effort to get out of the cities, but it's so damn cold in the Canadian wilderness. I'm not sure if I would have survived in my minimal Arctic gear. If I had gotten out, it would have probably reignited that spirit of adventure I felt so strongly driving through the rolling hills under a Kiwi sunset. This is part of the reason why I haven't felt compelled to add anything to this blog in over a month. There was nothing to report: sightseeing and tramping over the same downtown areas over and over again. Just look at the pictures, you get the idea.

Montreal and Quebec City have offered the real highlights of the Canadian experience so far. Being somewhat French they have different attitudes to, let's say, ensuring the pavements aren't slippery in Winter. Anglophone Canada clears them; Francophone Canada looks upon them as an extended ice rink. Great for kids, but no delicious prospect for a septagenarian. But it's exactly that lack of consideration that gives Quebec the edge over the rest of Canada. Everything isn't by the book. It's not toally safe and straightforward. It still has passion.

Exposing myself to different environments along this trip has taught me one great lesson about myself, and that is I am highly attuned to and affected by my surroundings. If the atmosephere is creative, energised and congenial then so am I. If it is dull, grey and lethargic, ditto.

I know this country blooms in the Summer, so I should not be so quick to dismiss what I have seen of it in its worst light. It would still be worth moving here and trying the Canadian life, but for now I look forward to Chicago on Tuesday, the sound of the Blues and the pulse of excitement in an American city.

Tony only has the one bag. Thnank God!