"All words are symbols that represent unspeakable realities. Which is also why words are magical." (Donald Miller tweet)

Friday, September 13, 2019

pins on a map

When we moved to Québec, almost four years ago, I didn't know my way around.

At. All.

I basically knew my way around Ontario. I knew where the 401 went, how to get to Niagara Falls the back way, where the Muskokas were; I knew that it's always warmer in Windsor, that the whole space around Petrolia is flat, and that Sioux Lookout was as far north as Florida was south (it's a big province), that Manitouwadge was halfway between the Sault and Thunder Bay, and that Ottawa was east.

It was always east.

We moved to Québec, and it was genuinely disconcerting to live in a place where Ottawa was west. I didn't know which direction any highways went. Didn't know what the South Shore was. Didn't know where the townships or Tremblant were. I knew almost nothing geographically outside my little part of downtown Montreal.

I did not like that feeling.

So ... we bought a map. Put it on the wall. And started exploring. Whenever we had a Saturday that had a few hours free, we would randomly put a finger on the map, and decide to go "there". And then we put a pin in it and (sometimes) a little note.



It's a big map. Seriously, look at the SIZE of this province!!!

And I now understand that I will likely never see most of it, because there aren't roads through a lot of it; and that most of us live sort of along the St. Lawrence River.

You can see that The Boy and I have been to a number of places.



And this summer ... we did THIS!!!



Nine days, from Montreal, to Quebec City, to Tadoussac, took the ferry from Les Escoumins to Trois Pistoles, to Ste-Anne-des-Monts, to Percé, back via New Brunswick (that's a different province), a quick overnight stop in Kamouraska, and home again.

It. Was. Awesome.

We kept a travel journal. We did that for our Alaska 2007 trip ...



... and used the very same journal for our Gaspésie 2019 trip.



We chuckled at a fortune cookie message - it was already in motion. Saw whales. Jumped off a mountain.



We learned some lessons. Fled mosquitos. One of us (me) threw up on a boat.



We used our still-limited-but-better-than-we-used-to-be French language skills.



And when we came home, driving into Montreal from the rest-of-the-province east instead of the almost-Ontario west, I felt another level of belonging. We haven't just snuck over the Ontario border, barely into Québec, no.

This beautiful, wonderful province is truly home.