West of Cape Spear

Lay down your sweet and weary head

Night is falling, you have come to journey’s end

Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before

They are calling from across a distant shore

Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?

Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away

Safe in my arms

You’re only sleeping

What can you see on the horizon?

Why do the white gulls call?

Across the sea a pale moon rises

The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass

A light on the water, grey ships pass

Into the west.

Three months. Twelve weeks. Eighty-four days. Eighteen Canadians with eighteen different reasons for running away. Four countries. Five flights. Six hostels and hotels. More train trips, pints of cider, and cups of tea than I can count. One amazing experience.

Air Canada flight 861 leaves this morning out of Heathrow, flying into Halifax. We should be in St. John’s around supper time, where the first thing I’m doing is getting a Tim Horton’s coffee, a Big Mary, and a box of Voortman’s Holiday Cookies. From there, it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump away to the west coast of Newfoundland. To Pasadena. To 9 4th avenue. The first room on the left. To my own pillow.

How long is it going to take, though, to get my head out of this place? In “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33,” Kris Kristofferson wonders if the goin’ up was worth the comin’ down – it is, I’m sure, but it doesn’t end with the descent to St. John’s International Airport. How can it? What’s been seen can’t be unseen, definitely not forgotten.

To everyone back home who put up with me over the last three months, as I went chasing after some wild dream and ended up finding something altogether unexpected: tapadh leat. Tack så mycket. Moltes gracies. Merci beaucoup.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

To the seventeen other people who I’ve been living with all this time, the group that was comfortable enough to have a family supper together on the first Sunday in Harlow, what do you say? It could be one of those times where it’s best to just leave it as it. Wherever you do end up – and by the sounds of it, that’s a little bit of everywhere – just keep calm and carry on. And mind the gap. I’m sure whatever happens, it’s going to be freakin’ awesome, because you all are.

It’s kinda like the way Wicked ends:

Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better?

(I do believe I have been changed for the better)

And because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

See you all soon, once I’m back west of Cape Spear.

Cheers,

rb

I Have Learned . . .

That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.

                                                                                                  – Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

The point of going to school is to learn something. With the semester in Harlow nearly finished, it’s time to account for what I’ve learned, and whether it was worth it or not. Consider this my cheat sheet.

• Fabric conditioner isn’t the same as liquid detergent. That doesn’t mean they come right out and print that on the bottle or anything.

• I can live without a BlackBerry attached to my hip.

• If you go to Stockholm and you buy a ticket to the underground rail network, then you’re a tourist.

• If you order an appetizer as a meal, you’re going to be sorely disappointed when it shows up. Don’t be cheap on an empty stomach.

• They really do drive on the left in the United Kingdom. Three months later, it still freaks me out if there’s a child or a dog sitting in the left-hand front seat.

• You can have a fantastic time in Europe without drinking like a fish.

• You can have a way better time in Europe by drinking like a fish.

• Tip in Spain. Always.

• Mountains that look like they’re real close probably aren’t. Try anyway.

• Fringe shows are way better than shows on the West End.

• Apparently I’m a hipster (see above).

• You can drink the water in train bathrooms . . . but you probably shouldn’t.

• On roundabouts, buses have to go right before they come left. Don’t worry, they won’t leave you.

• Ryanair really is that cheap. Just check in online before you go and keep it in one bag.

• Plans are awesome, but the things that you don’t count on are way better.

• If you can pay to go to a restored castle or climb a mountain, one will take your money away, the other your breath.

• Travel is one part looking for something, another part running away from something. In the end, it’s what you make it.

• There’s not much better than standing barefoot on a beach, watching the sun set over the Mediterranean.

• There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, more important than laughing.

• My teacher, Mary Walsh, got the police called on her during midterm break for ambushing the mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford. Do what you believe in, and the hell with the rest. Seriously.

• If you bring a girl to the top of the Eiffel Tower, kiss her. If you're lucky, that's an experience to share together for a long time.

• The world is much bigger than St. John’s, than Newfoundland, than Canada. Let your reaches and your ambitions take you farther than your hometown, but as soon as your ego thinks about doing the same, you need to call in the reins. When you go home again, you’ll be glad you did.

• What's been seen cannot be unseen; what’s been said cannot be unsaid.

• Take pictures so that you can relive a moment, not experience it for the first time on a computer screen. 

• Always accept rides from strangers. Wait, that doesn’t sound right . . .

• You can totally have a once-in-a-lifetime experience like James Blunt in “You’re Beautiful.” That doesn’t mean that his song isn’t terrible.

• If a Spanish dude tries to find some common ground and asks if you know French, don’t say oui if you really don’t. Especially if you’re in a train cabin with him for 11 hours.

• It’s not about Life of Johnson, it’s about your own life. Live it while you can – you can wait for the train, but the train won’t wait for you.

• You can have the best haggis, rich reindeer, a steaming bowl of paella, or fish and chips at every corner pub in London, but it’ll never be as good as Mom’s homemade lasagna.

• I’m a lucky, undeserving bastard.

I think that about accounts for it. Completely, utterly worth it – and maybe, just maybe, I’ll actually remember some of this stuff, once the final exam is finished. See you soon.

Cheers,

rb