Girl Meets Canada: Old Friends and Misused Hair Gel

The ongoing story of a girl and her van on an epic journey across Canada.

I know all of you faithful readers have every event of my entire life (as thus far blogged) committed fondly to memory. So of course you remember that on August 8th, 2009, I made a comment about being one of four packed into a truck on a tour of Otavalo, Ecuador. Right? Well, two of those other three people were the couple Gabriele and John. We spent the day driving and shopping and eating together, and part of the night drinking together. As we parted ways, email addresses were exchanged along with “if you are ever in my area of the world look me up” sentiments.

I promptly lost those emails (along with the travel journal they were scribbled in. How much does that suck?), but remembered that Gabriele lived somewhere in Quebec, so I did some fancy emailing, bugging the hostel we both stayed at and the travel agency the tour was booked through, and was able to procure Gabriele’s email address. Apparently privacy laws aren’t such a big deal in Ecuador. Win for me!

Day 68 (Friday, July 16th)

After leaving the yoga camp I back tracked a bit to Lachute, Quebec, for a visit with Gabriele. What a surprise when John opened the door! He’s from Australia (talk about long distance relationship!) and I was not expecting him on this continent. So I got to see both of my long lost Ecuador friends. There was beer (so much for keeping up with my yoga cleanse routine…) and fish and more beer and a year’s worth of catching up.

Day 69 (Saturday, July 17th)

I decided to blast through the rest of Quebec and New Brunswick, mostly so I’d have time to see a Halifax friend who’s leaving for Japan soon. Driving and driving and driving and driving….

I took French lessons in school from kindergarten to grade 11 and walked away with the barest of grasps on the language, most of which is long gone by now. So I find shopping in Quebec a little intimidating. But hunger got the better of me and I found myself in line at a French Tim Hortons. I was so proud of myself for being able to order a chicken salad sandwich on brown, a coffee with cream, and a chocolate glazed donut all in French AND have the server understand me! Sadly, I was not able to enjoy the benefits of this feat, as they did not accept Visa or Debit and I had no cash. So I had to walk away from my hard earned lunch, and satisfy myself with stale rice cakes and a bruised apple that I found in my cooler.

Crossing into New Brunswick there was no welcome sign! I swear I was looking, but none to be seen. Sorry Bev, we’re one province shy of your challenge. Maybe on the way back from Nova Scotia I’ll get one.

Day 70 (Sunday, July 18th)

Many people have told me that New Brunswick is a “why bother” province. But I like it. It reminds me of kinder, gentler version of BC. Rolling hills, lots of trees. Minus the crazy drivers in pick-ups and RVs the size of PEI and depressing dusty highway towns.

Fredericton has a particular appeal for me. Possibly because I remember learning how to spell it in elementary school. The second “e” seemed unnecessary for some reason, so to get it right on my spelling test I’d have to pronounce it to myself “Fred-ER-ic-ton”. Something I still do, and it still makes me smile.

Last time I was in Fred-ER-ic-ton I was on my last cross country road trip. My sister Angie was with me and I had very very short hair. It had been buzzed down to 1/4 inch and was growing out all funny. The night before we’d bought the cheapest gel we could find with the plan of playing with my hair and seeing how crazy we could make me look. Turns out with hair that short there isn’t a whole lot of options. So we had a lot left. It was neon green and in a hard plastic container.

I want to say this was Angie’s fault, but in all honesty it could have happened to me. Anyway, one of us (we’ll blame Angie) had the gel in a bag and was using the bank machine inside the bank lobby. She managed to drop the bag and the container cracked and spewed forth green gel all over the bank carpet. Of course she lost it and had to run out and drag me in to share the embarrassment and clean-up detail. I went back in that bank at some point (maybe a few weeks later on my way back through town?) and there was still a sticky stain visible. Oops!

Day 71 (Monday, July 19th)

I crossed into Nova Scotia and began the process of tracking down ooolld friends. Did I mention I used to live in Halifax? 1999-2001. First stop? Wolfville!

Photo Credits

All photos by Sarah Gignac

Gabriele and her beautiful house

Beach near St John, New Brunswick

Welcome to Nova Scotia Sign

This article was first published on Raggedy Threads in July 2010.

Recent Sarah Gignac Articles:

• Filmmaking 101 Part 6 - Shoot Day
• Filmmaking 101 Part 5 - Casting & Crew & Catering, Oh My!
• Filmmaking 101 Part 4 – The Pre-Production Dance Of Insanity
• Filmmaking 101 Part 3 – A Lesson In Passion and Partnerships
• Filmmaking 101 Part 2 — The Script