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