A Pause in the Trip

Coxsackie to Paris, Ontario - 650 kilometres driven

Monday morning arrived and there was no notice of the Champlain Canal opening date so Sina and I threw in the towel and decided to return with Ana. After breakfast we unloaded the months of accumulated gear in SeaLight's aft starboard cabin (known affectionately as "The Garage"), transfered it into the back of the Odyssey, said farewell to the boat, and were on the road by 10 am with me behind the wheel, becoming quickly accustomed to the art of driving, though still approaching each overhead bridge carefully, judging for the 65 feet of clearance required for the van's mast.

The hours melted away as we roared along the I90, with little to see besides vehicles ahead, beside, and behind us rallying for position and the frequent Applegreen roadside rest stops. We stopped at Duty Free and picked up a bottle of Empress 1908 Indigo Gin, a purple marvel, introduced to us originally by our friends Kira and Dave during their visit to Bahamas. Sina and I made a solemn pact to assemble again as soon as possible for a fancy gin cocktail night.

We breezed through the border and though we had to battle a bit of traffic on the Canadian side, we made it back to Brantford in good time. We dropped off Sina then went straight to Ana's parents' house where they had a beatiful pot of beef stew and fresh Portuguese bread waiting for us. It had been a long time since I'd seen them and we had a lovely visit.

Pulling into our driveway in Paris was something I'd been imagining for a while. How would I feel? Would things look different? I'd only been gone less than eight months, but change is constant and coming in with fresh eyes enables one to see things that may have gone unnoticed for years.

I stepped out of the van slowly and deliberately, looking at the ground, the grass, the trees, then at the house. I walked in the front door and inhaled the familiar smell of home, then after unloading the gear from the van, stepped inside and walked around. The house seemed huge. There were spaces you could cartwheel in, swing your arms, swing your partner, swing a golf club or bat. Everything seemed very white or light with few dark spaces. Despite the orderly state of the house, I felt like there was stuff everywhere. Massive loads of stuff. After living in the confines of a boat where space is precious and every object on board must justify its inclusion, being back in the luxurious space of our home felt indulgent, royal, decadent. I saw things I wanted to remove. Not junk, mind you, just things I don't remember needing or using for years. I imagined shoveling all these items into a pile on the front lawn, like a raving lunatic, leaving our home barren and empty, with strictly what was necessary to live. But on reflection, I wasn't sure what problem I was trying to solve, as everybody else in the family seems quite happy with the level of possessions therein, jusifiable or not.

Ana introduced me to our new hamster Winnie. It took her a while to locate the little runt as she had burrowed into a pile of shavings, and even when Ana did find her, she blitzed at light speed and disappeared beneath shavings in a different corner of the cage. She is a fast one. I did finally get a good look at her and she's a beauty. Welcome to the family, little one.

With that, comes a pause in the trip and these journals.

We have just over 600 nautical miles to go. The adventure will continue soon.