NaPoWriMo Day 2 - "World"

Today's prompt:

In the world of well-known poems, maybe there’s no gem quite so hoary as Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about your own road not taken – about a choice of yours that has “made all the difference,” and what might have happened had you made a different choice.

This was a tough prompt as it is very easy for me look back and wonder what if about all sorts of choices that I have made in life. But I guess one watershed was when I left a steady job to spend a few months travelling across Canada. It gave me confidence in a way that I find hard to explain, but it definitely gave me a different viewpoint on life and the world. Here's the poem:

Would I have known a river

If I had not seen those falls

Tumbling, rushing, cascading water

A deafening roar in my ears

Would I understand the land

If I had not seen that expanse

Flat, featureless, a home to crops

A sunset that warmed my eyes

Could I contemplate a hill

If I had not seen those mountains

Snow-capped, rugged, majestically rising

A view thrilling to my eyes

Would I have seen the woods

If I had not walked those forests

Dappled and dense, trees tall and strong

A fresh resin scent in my nose

Could I have gained a friendship

If I had not met those people

Friendly, welcoming, eager to chat

Filling a place in my heart

Would I have known the world

If I had not taken a chance

Was I brave or stupid, I didn't know

But wisdom fills my senses now

Bus Station

I read with some sadness today, that from 31 October, Greyhound Canada will be discontinuing all routes West of Ontario. Apparently due to falling passenger numbers.

Twelve years ago I spent some fabulous months backpacking across Canada, using Greyhound buses as my major means of transport. I got into that regular rhythm of being dropped off with your fellow passengers every few hours in the middle of nowhere, with some sort of eatery close to hand (often Tim Hortons of course), and the bus would disappear for an hour to change drivers, before returning, and everyone would claim the same seat that they had before.

I took that 30+ hour route all the way from Toronto to Winnipeg, which will no longer be available since buses will now go no further than Sudbury. When I got off my bus in Winnipeg, it felt close to being born again. I had been on it so long that I felt a sense of disorientation, of not knowing what to do without that bus, that took several hours to shake.

I continued my tour, by Greyhound bus again, to Saskatoon, and then onto Edmonton, and Banff and finally into Vancouver. We travelled through the Rockies, and for hours saw nothing but highway and blue sky and cloud touching, snow capped, and beautiful mountains.

During the earlier legs, in farmlands of Manitoba and Saskatchewan, there was nothing but highway and a sky so large it is virtually impossible to imagine, when you're in a country as small and close as Britain.

I am sure that other bus companies will step in to carry on those routes in one way or another, but something will still have been lost, especially to any future backpackers. At least they will stay in my memory and in those of others before and after me.

I would like to close with a poem I wrote on this trip, inspired by the numerous hours I spent in bus stations across the country.

The Bus Station

The watching and waiting of the flickering screen

To come the departures, that arrivals have been

Quiet and hallowed is the waiting hall way

A mind numbed by hours has little to say

Friends and loved ones are met with a smile

But it's tears for the travellers who'll be gone for a while

As the chill wafts in on the ten-thirty bus

Flesh is covered up with a minimum of fuss

For a time of transition, which some would delay

Much drama is seen at each parking bay

It happens so often, and yet goes unseen

As most are fixed watching the flickering screen

Canada - Ten Years On

Ten years ago exactly I flew out to Canada to embark on a two and a half month journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific coast, something I find hard to imagine even as I write this. I still have many fond memories and images in my head that surely it could not be that long ago? But it is; The date on the front of the calendar proves it.

So, over the next few months, as a project to myself, I will write some posts based on the places that I visited and my memories of them, along with a few photos. It will be fun for me to relive my experiences and share them with you, and will hopefully be of interest to anyone who reads them.

One of the overwhelming memories I have of that trip to Canada was the friendliness of the people I met there, whether they be youth hostel employees, museum ticket vendors or barmen. Not to mention the people I met in hostels, both local and foreign. So much so, that when I returned to London I found myself trying to talk to people in shops! A cardinal sin which any Londoner will know and I was soon pushed back into my old ways by the silences and the stares.

I was also amazed by the dramatic landscapes; The forests and lakes, mountains and waterfalls (well one waterfall in particular), and the expanse of skies. I have only really experienced anything like it since in Sweden. And coming from a relatively small island, I had to adjust my distorted sense of distance. Here a few hours will take you from one side of Britain to the other, whereas there it will barely get you across a province.

I grew a beard for the first time while there; A much bigger, bushier one than that which I have now. I learned to enjoy ice hockey, as well as getting a taste for a Tim Horton's with a boston creme donut.

All in all it was a wonderful trip, and I hope I can get that across in my future travelogues / reminiscences as we go from east coast to west.