The Comeback

I have no excuse. I have been home for two weeks, delighfully reading the usual blogs. Rejoicing in the revival of their activity. Taking intellectual advantage of the work of others on their personal online writing, for my comfort and mental stimulation. Ah! The guilt, the guilt. ...


Let us start in the beggining. After my last post I went to my aunt's place, in a suburb near Vancouver. After 2 days I took a bus to Seattle, there I took a train to Portland. I stayed there for three days, couchsurfing with a really nice couple.

Then I took another train and got to San Francisco. Had 4 days of dream-like reality there, couchsurfing with a woman who lived in the Mission area (the historically Latin-American neighbourhood and home of the burrito) in one of the lovely Victorian houses. After that, I took a train back to Vancouver, got stuck in California for 9 hours due to a derailment, ended up getting on a bus and getting in at 5 or 6 AM in the morning.

After two nights in a hostel, meeting bizarre people and wondering around Vancouver city center, I went to stay with some friends who kindly took my homeless (and angry-at-myself-for-not-having-planed-things-at-least-a-little-bit!) self, in. I spent a week there: hiking somewhere near Squamish, and hitchhiking with one of them around Vancouver Island. We wanted to go to Tofino, ended up in Uclulelet (is that how it was spelt?), a little bit south. Then got the best ride ever from a retired English Professor to Victoria.

Next morning I got on a bus. I had bought a bunch of tickets on a hurry and slight alarm at how much it costs to buy bus tickets not-in-advance in Canada. First stop: Penticton. Small warm town by the Okanagan lake. I stayed with a family with three North American teenage girls (you get the cliché picture?). Next: Kelowna, the big Okanagan metropolis (right..). Three days of hell in a small little strange Western-looking town. All great views, mountains, tourist attractions are only acessible by private car. Mental state: close to insanity in a lonely hostel room. Then, Vernon, the last Okanagan stop. Smaller, more Western-looking. No couchsurfing, no hostels. So, I spent my emergency money on an expensive motel. Went to Kalamalka lake.

Then Nelson, on the Kootenays, further east. One word: GREAT. After 3/4 days, I got on the bus again and went to Alberta. Calgary was my 5 hours stop and my 4 hours stroll in the cold. Had to buy a sweatshirt because it was -4ºC and snowing. Do laugh. It is almost absurd.

Final stop: Banff in the Rockie Mountains. One day of hiking won me over, despite the tired feet and buzzing head. I ended up just staring at the valleys and mountains for some 30 min straight. My mind was clear and I was free like a bird.
Or just really exhausted.

After that, 12 hours in a bus, in the Trans-Canadian Highway, brought me back to Vancouver. It was a beautiful journey, but I was glad to be back. I spent a weekend at a friend's and a week at my aunt's. Plane and... voilá. Europe, Portugal champagne and cake!

So, this is the backbone of the story. The thing is, I kept a journal. I wrote about everything that happened, with details and all. I recorded the feelings and the impressions. I wrote everywhere: on buses, trains, benches, rooms, cafés, streets and churches. I somehow knew this was going to be memorable.

After all, this was a celebration of my new life by the Pacific. Of having money in the bank and legally renting a house. One month of challenging new sights was in order. Besides, I needed to clear my mind, to be alone all this time. To realise how good and how bad it can get inside my head. I needed to meet strangers. Tell them all my problems (I literally did, many times), hear all their miseries and share moments of pure human empathy. I needed to exchange numbers and see mountains. To dance in the streets of some small town and run down singing, down the hills of San Francisco. I needed to know more about Canada, about the States. I needed to test myself and ... I guess I did. It might have been only a month. But it was more than worth it.


Life at home is not extremely eventful. But it is very pleasant. I spend my days baking bread (I am getting better and better), making jams, eating peaches and tasting different kinds of wine. I have already done a Victorian bright-green shawl and I am almost done with my big blue sweater. Besides knitting, I have also read like crazy (Jane Austen and Henrik Ibsen) and I decided to complete my never ending UWC scrap book. I am going to start my driving lessons (theory) on Monday. That should be... amusing? Well, I need to get me some wheels. Or at least know what to do if I get some.

Meanwhile, I think I should type my little scriblings fromt he last month. a little "series of post" in retrospective. A selected "best-off" of the almost 200 pages of text.


P.S. my latest obsession: The Puppini Sisters. I think it has to do with my ever-lasting passion for red lipstick and silky gloves.