15,775 km total.
Even though this won’t be the last blog we post on My Five Acres, I still feel the need to wrap up our trip with one final, mind-blowing post, encapsulating the lessons we learned on our trip, the effects it has had on our souls, and the meaning of life, the universe, and everything.
Being ill-equipped to do so, however, I will leave you with a rumination or two on my return to North America.
Practicalities and Cogitations
After travelling slowly for more than a year, rolling past cultural changes one effortful pedal stroke at a time, a 30-hour marathon of 800kph (!) flights feels like time travel, like I popped into a wormhole and emerged onto an entirely different planet. It was sort of a surprise when I learned that the rest of the world was pretty much the same as when we left it.
Stephen’s note: What?!
Was the whole trip some fever dream from which I have just awoken? Did we really exist in all those places, and see all the things we saw? How could Asia be real and exist on the same planet where I am today, so dramatically different it is from my present surroundings? Am I really here, or are we all just a holographic projection of activities taking place at the edge of the universe?
Putting philosophy and flights of fancy aside for a moment, these are the technicalities of our current situation.
Stephen has returned to Hong Kong, and will continue from there to Shanghai, and then Europe, teaching yoga workshops as he goes. You should go practice with him if he’s coming to your neck of the woods. His workshops are going to be awesome.
I am visiting my parents on Vancouver Island, and will enjoy the rest of the summer in the company of family and friends.
And after that?
Plans are still unfolding, but I will rejoin Stephen in LA in early November. There may be an extended West Coast bike ride involved to get there.
Don’t worry, this period of separation between us is not by choice, but rather practicality. It costs too much, both financially and environmentally, for me to travel with Stephen while he teaches. And right now, travel is not what I want to be doing anyway.
In fact, I’m bloody relieved to be home.
Though we haven’t lived in Canada since 1998, Stephen and I both still consider it home. It’s the only place on Earth where I don’t feel like I stick out, like I am a little out of sync with everyone else, like my accent, or my height, or my blue eyes make me an obvious outsider.
It is so beautiful here.
And so clean.
The air smells amazing.
There are no open sewers, or piles of garbage on the side of the road. There is so much empty space. Here, you can drink the tap water and eat fresh vegetables without worrying about getting sick.
Here, it doesn’t seem like people are just a nest of ants writ large, or a plague on the earth. Here, it feels like nature is still our boss, and we are her servants.
It is, in short, breathtaking. Every time I look up from my computer, I can’t believe what I see.
A row of evergreens stands sentinel in front of the steep slopes of Saltspring Island rising up behind them.
The snow-capped pyramid of Mount Baker gathers clouds in the distance. If I tilt my head just right, I can see the deep blue of the Georgia Strait peeking between the trees.
We have seen so much and experienced so much in the last year that I have not processed it yet. I have not yet discovered the true meaning behind it all. Maybe I never will.
But sitting here looking out on the near perfection that is this part of the world, I can assuredly tell you, there’s no place like home. ♥