八千里路雲和月

01-29

I decided to hit the road again that afternoon.

But where to? The initial thought was to explore the wild west of America. A multi-day rafting trip along the Grand Canyon would make me smile in dreams - how exciting it could be to break through the rapids and watch muddy water splashing against my face in slow motion! Yet, yet...it soon came to my awareness that the National Park is habitat for 22 kinds of snakes, the single most terrifying creature on this planet. The idea of possible encounter almost immediately killed my courage to travel solo.

Maybe its wiser to stay in the cold zone called Canada, then why not taking a spontaneous road trip east towards the Atlantic? Once outside the concrete forests, world must be running by a different set of rules. I was intrigued to explore the vast land beyond Ottawa, Montreal, Quebec City and Halifax, where my limited understanding of East Canada stops.

I came back in awe. From Toronto to Newfoundland, 22 sun rises and sunsets, 8000 kilometres of scenic driving, numerous exhilarating, nerve-wrecking, tranquilizing, or illuminating moments, and an unexpected spiritual conversation at the end of the journey......I already lost track of the surprises life prepared for me during the journey.

Once, along the silent winding road heading north, there were white belts of evening mist floating among the hills, sometimes turning gold in front of the descending sun, sometimes diving into the valley in mysterious elegance; the river often forgot flowing but froze into a mirror that stretched out for miles, trying to tell all the secrets of the sky. I felt like breaking into the fairy land, but I knew its just natures generous gift for a fleeting passerby.

Once, the clouds accumulated so much anger that it lashed out in its own overwhelming manner. I saw nowhere to seek shelter at the top of the hill but to hide in the car seat like a frightened cat, watching silver lightening breaking the gloomy sky into pieces - strike! another one, again, and again! Then rain poured down through the cracks, the whole world began sinking in the cloudy tank, and the gusts of wind so determined to blow everything away, even the momentary peace between thunders. My neighbour campers were only about fifteen metres away, yet went invisible behind the waterfall immediately. It was heart-stopping beauty, it was complete isolation.

Once, under the blinding mid-day sun, Sydney Ports parking station turned pale. An old man and a younger lady sat in their retrofitted, fully equipped camper van in next lane, doors wide open, like if sending invitations to an afternoon conversation. He has a wise, retired-professor look, and his daughter alive and energetic, as a refreshing breeze of air. 「Oh, the best two months of the year!", she picked up a water bottle and leaned back to the sofa-bed, telling stories of their family trip as if talking about a grocery shopping visit to the street corner - they were already at the last leg of the cross-Canada road adventure from British Colombia.

Once, the last light of the sun was hiding into the gulf of St. Lawrence little by little, and we were drifting away from the mainland. There was the man sitting quietly in the lounge of Marine Atlantic ferry, one arm on the couch, another hand on top of his lips. Looking out of the scratched window into the horizon, he was in the centre of the crowd, but he was also somewhere else all by himself. The voices of the singer faded away, and people nearby moved in and out like if they didnt exist, leaving only the blue cabin lights casting layers of solitude on his face.

...

It is probably the charm of a road trip, no matter how far you go, there is always more waiting there down the road - something to see, someone to connect to, some scenery to bring peace, or some moment to leave a permanent mark on your mind. It is a humbling experience beyond words.

Where should I start from?

ONTARIO

How many lakes do we have in the province?

PLACES I LIKE ALONG THE LAKESHORE OF EAST ONTARIO:

Kings Highway 2: I tried staying close to the bank of Lake Ontario rather than taking Highway 401, which proved to be a wise decision. According to Wikipedia: "Highway 2 is the lowest-numbered provincially maintained highway in the Canadian province of Ontario (there is no numbered Ontario Highway 1) and was originally part of a series of identically numbered highways in multiple provinces which together joined Windsor, Ontario to Halifax, Nova Scotia."
Thousand Islands Parkway, Long Sault Parkway, Highway 33, 22...any country road, and the the Glenora ferry across the lake: The less visited roads always lead to unbeatable view. I stopped and stopped numerous times, but eventually gave up photographing. Just slow down, treat your eyes.
Sunset at the Cobourg beach: A peaceful town with a large beach. Once, teams of children were playing volleyballs; another time, there were only hundreds of seagulls strolling around.
Sandbanks Provincial Park Campsite (Prince Edward County): The campsites were fully booked during my stay! Hmmm, yes, there could be plenty of families occupying the beach, but its also not too hard to find a place for your own. I remembered reading in front of the beautiful turquoise water, letting the cool gust of wind tousling my hair...it can be hard not to be distracted by the scenery.

LOST:

Time, due to some detours.

FOUND:

Sheer fun of driving and exploring the unknown.

QUEBEC

Lost in translation, yet connected in the least expected way.

PLACES I LIKE IN SOUTHERN QUEBEC:

Highway 155 at sunset: Driving into Quebec, I received an aurora storm forecast which seemed strong enough to be seen even in northern NY State. Consulted my travel Guru Google Map, I started heading north towards Lac Saint-Jean to avoid the light pollution near Montreal. The twist was, after hours of driving in dark and witnessed hundreds of bug suicides on the windshield, I found myself embraced by street lights along the the lake shore and couldnt capture any aurora display. It was the driving itself that became my moment of zen.
Val-Jalbert Historical Village: I didnt expect walking into the heart of 1920s right next to my campsite. Val-Jalbert, now a tourist destination, was transformed from an abandoned pulp mill plant where hundreds of workers used to lead a modern life with electricity and water supply a century ago. Grown up in a country where history often has to give its way to development and modern life, I was amazed by how this ghost village could be so well revamped and managed, that it attracted big crowds of visitors. http://www.valjalbert.com/en/
Marché AtWaters et Marché Jean Talon in Montreal: One who likes La Boqueria or Campo de Fiori would have a good time here.
Pamika, an authentic Thai restaurant in Montreal: The owner makes great Thai-inspired Mojito as well. http://pamika.ca/
Monastère des Augustine in Quebec City: When I got lost looking for a campsite outside Levis close to midnight, the 4.7 scored hotel on Google Map became my saviour. The girl smiled on the other end the of line when I called, "yes, I just had a cancellation, you can stay at the last room available, an authentic single room." At that moment, how would I expect this last minute choice to become one of the highlights of the entire trip...

LOST:

Sight of the aurora storm.

iPhone.

FOUND:

Replacement phone.

Stories of people from the past.

A private spiritual conversation with L.

NEW BRUNSWICK

Roads, and more roads. A lot of driving, and an unexpected incident.

PLACES I LIKE IN NEW BRUNSWICK (ALONG THE ROAD ONLY):

Rockwood Park Campground at the outskirt of Saint John: A great spot inside the park which offered the view of city at hill top. It was quite an experience getting caught in a thunderstorm right upon my arrival.
Off-highway driving: Try 105 rather than 2, you may run into quite few waterfalls.
Britts Pub & Eatery in Saint John: Spent a whole day working on an urgent project there. The waiter ended up telling half-shocked, "worked in the pub for 13 years and never saw anyone siting and typing from 9am to 9pm..."
The Marshlands Inn: said to be one of Canadas best known country inns where the Queen of England had stayed during her visit to Canada. As usual, I found it on Google Map around 10:30pm, when failed to secure a campsite or parking lot...It is a place with rich history and fabulous gardens, although the Victorian-style room can be a bit scary at mid-night, just try picturing a doll staring at you from the foot of the bed... http://www.marshlands.nb.ca/
Daves Lobster Rolls: Yummy.

LOST:

Money.

One night of sleep to get the project done.

Time to visit local places of interest.

FOUND:

Deeper understanding of cars, especially their costs.

Satisfaction helping my dear friend impress a big client.

Places to visit next time - Bay of Fundy, Hopewell Rocks, the Great Manan Island...

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND

Youll remember me, in the Field of Gold.

This year mark the 150 anniversary of Canada, celebrations can be seen everywhere at the historic city of Charlottetown.

The Canadian Confederation, a hundred-year long nation-building process was considered set in motion at the Charlottetown Conference of September 1864. The meeting brought together delegates from New Brunswick, Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island to discuss the union of their three provinces.

After numerous conferences and negotiations, the British North America Act of 1867 (now called the Constitution Act, 1867) was proclaimed into law on 1 July 1867, which Canadians now celebrate as Canada Day.

Before driving out-of-breath to catch the ferry at Sydney Port, I did try the so-called worlds best ice cream at the COWs, it turns out that the ranking was published in 2008 by an American travel agency...sounds like Amazon marks the camera they carry as Choice of the Year? They have wide selection of flavours and the ice cream do taste good, but it only activated my floods of memories of the city of Great Beauty.

LOST:

Up-close and personal contact with the history of Canadian Confederation.

FOUND:

Anne of the Green Gables can be seen everywhere on the island.

Lobsters are not served all year round.

NOVA SCOTIA

We are all on the small boat towards wonderland.

PLACES I LIKE IN NOVA SCOTIA(NORTHEAST PART ONLY):

The Marine Atlantic Ferry to Newfoundland: A special afternoon ferry is arranged on every Tuesday afternoon between Sydney, Nova Scotia and Port aux Basques, Newfoundland, so we can sail through the sunset-at-sea towards the unknown island.
The must-do Cabot Trail and unknown country roads at Cape Breton: I drove the circle right after waving goodbye the breath-taking beauty of NewFoundland. Although worried a bit that I would be harder to impress and might not do the Trail justice, I was swept to the floor by the immenseness of Atlantic. The winding, sometimes steep roads along the coastline opened up unbeatable view of the ocean blue, mountain green, and layers of cloud white. Celtic music could be good company on the road!
The Red Shoe Pub: Just for the atmosphere, the music and passionate local performers, it worths a visit. P.S. There arent much to do in the area after dark anyway https://www.redshoepub.com
The Meat Cove campsite: Ideal camping spot offers view on the cliff to watch the sun sinking into big blue. They also have cottages and a restaurant known for its chowders.

LOST:

Sight of whales.

Time to complete few gorgeous hikes near Ingonish and Cheticamp.

FOUND:

The big blue.

Fresh seafood everywhere. Lobsters, snow crabs, oysters, salmon, cod, mussels...but people dont seem to eat sea urchins here?

NEWFOUNDLAND

In the end, back to the authentic and raw.

For so long, Newfoundland meant little but a irregular green shape on Google map to me.

The ferry eventually arrived at Port aux Basques at 1:30am, being confined in the boat for over 9 hours, I was hurry making the landing. Once out of the port, my cars headlights lost the battle against the immense night right away, theres nothing but the darkest version of black all around. Here I am, at the mysterious island to be found.

Day 1. Get to Codroy campsite upon arrival, then head to Grose Morne National Park before dark.
Day 2. Join in the Western Brook Pond day hike.
Day 3. Visit Lanse Aux Meadows and head to St. Anthony at night.
Day 4. Whale-watching at St. Anthony and then get back to Grose Morne.
Day 5. Drive towards Port aux Basques for the over night ferry.

Due to an unfortunate event few months ago, I became a traveller without wide-angel lens, the widest one lying in my camera bag was a shocking 55mm, and the rest could only rely on iPhone...what a terrible idea for landscape photography. It was not fun stepping back, and again, and more, but still cant capture the wholeness of the scenery in front of me.

It was also a mission failed to capture the local peoples lives. Either forced to keep my hands on the steering wheel, or enjoyed the few conversations with others too much to take out the camera, or most of the time, tried hard to locate human (or moose) traces but only saw the clouds painting their masterpieces above empty roads...the journey was far from the madding crowd.

Photography is a myth. From time to time, I become uncertain if the camera is able to capture the moment. At St. Anthony, pods of whales and dolphins, diving seagulls and escaping fishes put on a breath-taking show that drove the entire boat crazy, yet among the exciting cheers and non-stop shutter sound, the captain said something that I couldnt forget: 「try putting down the camera and see them with your own eyes.」

At that very occasion, camera becomes the only object that stuck between myself and nature. Instead of perceiving it and living it, I probably focused more on the action of recording it in the end. However, there are so much indescribable beauty that I wanted to capture and share, otherwise they just fled away without a trace.

I remembered when the immense night fell upon the parking lot outside Western Brook Pond. Viking Trail (Route 430) was right behind me, then the gulf of St. Lawrence fifty metres away. I turned off the interior lights and lied down in the car, listening to the sound of nothingness that went on and on like forever. Then theres a beam of light casted from miles away, the engine of some sort of truck humming in distance. I heard the road being lit up, mist crawled over the from the water without making any sound, and the ocean waves dancing to themselves in the dark. Then there was the huge Optimus Prime truck carrying dozens of cars roaring closer and closer, the flashing lights on its iron shelves passed by in a flash, like some unknown flying objects just travelled through from future.

All dark again. All beyond reach. Outside the sunroof, the moon was new, millions of stars gazed at me from light years away, as gentle as a lullaby. It was at that very instance that I had to admit, its impossible to capture the great beauty after all.