Debriefing: Back "Home"

“Come on, you bastard, come home.” - the part 5 epitaph in Hearts in Atlantis, by Stephen King

Standing in line to check-in at the Air Transat counter in the Fiumenico Airport in Rome, I had never been so happy to just be around Canadians. I was able to talk to a fellow backpacker and a middle-aged couple about Canadian things, Canadian places, and Canadian issues. Having been away from the country I love for just shy of 10 months, this was such a relief. I could see the Canadian families with their little Canadian children running around, the Canadian backpackers talking about the crazy shit that happened to them during their quarter-life crisis backpacking through Europe. It was so cool and so refreshing, it made me feel like I was already home and not feel so bad when I found out they didn’t have personalised video screens on the airplane and I had to pay for a headset (for which I was one euro short). Ah well, I have a book and that’s why I’m spending time writing this which as a result will be too long and unnecessarily wordy.

I found out that travelling is good for padding your Facebook account. At least, it is for mine. It’s interesting, because I never asked people for their Facebook accounts, with the exception of the Northern Irish girls we met, and even then it was initially for practical (not friendship) reasons. I feel kinda weird doing that and I can never tell if people will think I’m being a creep. But I guess I am always surprised by how open and friendly and warm people are around the world. I guess the people who go backpacking are the kinds of folk who like to meet new people and bring them into their lives. And I love being brought into other people’s lives because it’s almost always incredibly interesting. And so now, another handful to the collection, including a contact just outside Sydney, Australia. Word. Ideally, I’ll have someone in every place I want to visit and I’ll never need to stay in a hostel or hotel ever again. Expanding my empire. Empire of Love!

Uhm....

Interlude: Nationalities I’ve Met Along The Way

Norwegian, Dutch, Belgian, Luxembourgish, German, Czech, Austrian, Italian, Finnish, Iraqi, Aussie, Kiwi, Cyprusian, French, Canadian, French-Canadian, Argentine, Scottish, Irish, Northern Irish, English, Spanish, Polish, Swiss, Brazilian, Korean, Russian... and maybe more. These are all the ones I can remember. Oh, and of course, Americans. Or “United Statesians” as it would literally translate from Latin American Spanish.

I don’t remember what my exact expectations were for this trip. I think, basically, to have a good time and see a whole bunch of places I’ve never seen before. And revisit Amsterdam, because I love Amsterdam and some of the nicest people I’ve ever met live there. Man, it feels like it’s been so long since Amsterdam, much less Ebeltoft. And fuck, what was it even like living in Canada all those years ago? It’s almost like I’m Richard Dreyfuss at the end of Stand By Me, but instead of reflecting on my childhood friends, I’m reflecting on the country I grew up in. And like his childhood friends in Stand By Me, Canada is a big part of who I am - living in Mississauga and Halifax has shaped me in a way that I really like and have come to be quite proud of.

So I guess... my expectations were exceeded. Because unlike some of the people I met on my trip, my goal wasn’t “to bang a chick in every city” (although I’m pretty sure that guy was all talk, as he was travelling with his parents and kid brother) and I wasn’t there to party hard (because no matter what, any party is going to pale in comparison to summer parties and New Year’s with my friends). But cool things still happened. Little things went wrong, but I still have the great experiences. And that’s the thing. That’s the thing. Because of this trip, ingrained in my mind is the awe of walking out of the subway station to see the towering Coliseum. Because of this trip, ingrained in my mind is the feel I got from walking in the Jewish Memorial in Berlin. Because of this trip, ingrained in my mind is spending an amazing night with a really cool Northern Irish girl (young woman, really) and her hilarious friends.

Which brings me to another point. Gillian was making fun of me throughout Vienna and Rome about a missed opportunity I had. At least, I’m pretty sure it was a missed opportunity. Vienna is a city I really enjoyed (although I hear Salzburg is a billion times better) and have, ever since seeing the movie, fantasized about having my Before Sunrise moment with some wonderful young woman in Vienna. And in a way, I did... if Before Sunrise was Rated G. And I beat myself up about it for a long time. But then it hit me: So what if things never happen as good as they do in my fantasies? So what if, in the end, it was a “mission failed”? If my life is as interesting or enthralling as the movies I love, then I can’t complain. It’s pretty fuckin’ sweet, really. And whatever, I’m a pretty healthy guy. I think I got close to another 60 years in me. Hell, I’ll probably live to see hover cars.

It’s interesting, because I am now back “home” (or rather, on the plane going back “home”). But Mississauga is definitely not my only “home”. I lived in Halifax for the majority of four long, epic years. I’ve spent prolonged periods in other places - 5 weeks with a family in Chicoutimi, Quebec and 2 months with a Spanish school in Argentina. And now I finished a year in Denmark, only to return there for one more two months from now. So where’s home? Halifax is by a wide margin my Favourite City In The World, but Mississauga is where I grew up and where my favourite people from my life are. And now I have a plethora of friends from Denmark, a place that I will have spent most of 2 years living in. And almost all my filmmaking contacts live in Europe, so does that mean I’ll probably end up living in Denmark or England or someplace like that? It’d be cool, but I dunno. I like being bitten by the travel bug, but I think that bite’s now infected and I’m not sure what the antidote is. But I guess, I’m young, so yeah, I’ll see.

My friend Michelle once quoted The Grateful Dead to me, for reasons I now forget. The lyric, I believe, is from the song “Truckin’”, where they say “what a long strange trip it’s beeeeeeeeeen.” And although it hasn’t been that “strange”, it has been pretty “long”, and it certainly has been a “trip”.

...And that’s about the most insightful thing I can say.