Showing all posts in Wanderlogue

I’m quite sure that in the back of every Canadian’s mind, there’s always this particular dream about driving along the scenic world-famous Cabot Trail in Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia. However, the fact that domestic flight within Canada is even a lot more expensive than international flights does not seem to help at all, hence once again I felt very fortunate to get the Canada 150 pass and be able to reach this part of Canada at last.

I must say, that even though the Rockies in the western part of Canada where I live is jaw-dropping indeed, but the coast of the eastern part of Canada is such a treasured hidden gem on another level. And the best way to possibly see the ultimate highlights of it is by experiencing a drive along the Cabot Trail which encircles the Cape Breton National Park, where the mountains meet the sea that expands into the Atlantic Ocean.

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The day I spent in Baddeck was a day unlike any other days this year. Or possibly even any other days I’ve had in the past few years. For the first time in such a long time, I finally remembered again how it feels like to be completely at ease, to sense the solid peacefulness of summer vibes, to wholly feel soothed and renewed. To simply forget and not worry about the past nor the future, for all that matters is really the present. To be brought back to a place I’ve never had a chance to wander to in such a long period before that day; a place in my mind where solitude is truly a bliss—and not at all a sign of loneliness nor missing companions.

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Halifax actually reminds me of Edmonton quite a bit too much. This is another kind of a laid-back capital city filled with nice strangers who always go with, “Hi! How are you? Have a nice day!” sort of template within daily conversation in grocery stores or anywhere else with customer services. People say thank you to the bus driver even though they’re exiting from the back door that is a few meters away from the driver upfront, strangers smile at each other when their eyes accidentally meet, the bus drivers smile at each passenger that come aboard, and so forth.

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I remember perfectly the very first thing that came to my mind once I dragged my eyes out of my laptop screen to the moving window of VIA’s the Ocean train that evening was one of Robert Frost’s world famous poem.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

I imagined, our train from a bird’s view would be meandering intrepidly along the railway that goes through a thick forest of pine woods, and only pine woods. Green and mighty, lush and tall. Fearless and unstoppable. And us humans inside, busy with each of their own universe. Some were wandering to the dream land, some were venturing into the imaginative universe through their laptop or tab screens where other humans mimicking lives we all never had, some dwelled into worlds of words made of ink, and others were just having cozy conversations with the person next seat. I was the second group, watching Emily Blunt catches daily glimpses of other persons’ lives from behind a moving window of a train.

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