I’m still surprised at how I thought I’d freeze in my sleep every night of this road trip, especially because summer is over. Or almost. It’s approximately 26 degrees in the South of Ontario right now.
This morning, we woke up and found Bea’s bag of food all torn up, with half the food on the ground, not far from the car. We thought of bringing our food inside, but not hers. At least we managed to save almost all of it, so what remains can still last for a good while.
We ate breakfast and Max told me he had a word in mind as he was pouring soy milk into his cereals. I said: “Is it tangible or not?” He said it was. So I guessed: “Is it soy milk?” He said yes and I started laughing. It seemed obvious as he had his eyes on it while telling me that. He tried again and I had to guess. So I started again with “Is it tangible or not?” He said it was. I said “does it have to do with nature?” He said no. “Does it have to do with camping?” He said it can. “Is it coffee?” He said yes. He also said he hated this game.
We dipped our feet one last time into the beach before getting on the road again. We realized that we’re on day 5 of the trip already and we’re still in the east side of Canada. We stop often to see little places here and there but we need to get moving much faster if we want to get to Vancouver soon! So today is going to be a real long day of driving, we’re going to try to reach Sudbury (Ontario).
It’s a good occasion for me to finish reading The Life-Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck by Sarah Knight, a book that helps you de-clutter your mind. I suggest it to anyone who has trouble managing their fuck-budget or who simply has none, and gives too many fucks about too many things because they care what people think, because they want to be liked, or for conformity.
For example, we are driving on the highway towards Toronto. We can tell people here are stressed and in a hurry to go back to their work-eat-shit-sleep routine waiting for them, so we got honked at twice. First, by a truck driver and second by a dude who was so red and muscled probably because his tight shirt prevented him from breathing correctly. Our beloved Carl was rolling at exactly 100km/h, which was the speed limit, and they thought it wasn’t fast enough. But we decided not to give a fuck and kept going at that speed because not wanting Carl to break down on the highway with all the stuff we carry or lose something that is strapped on the roof is really what we give a fuck about. Thank you, Sarah.
Three stops and 8 hours later, we have arrived in Sudbury (Ontario). We found a nice quiet parking lot next to the wall of a mart. Get it? I am going to bed with this thought in mind: Being used to the American-English accent, I find that English-Canadians have a funky accent sprinkled with movie-like vocabulary. Some of them, especially in the country side, speak as if they permanently had an ice cube rolling in their mouth.
Speaking of ice, I went to buy some at the gas station for our cooler. I told the cashier I didn’t need the receipt and she said “Okie-dokie!” I wasn’t sure if the chills I got came from the bags of ice I held in my hands or…