Broken sleep amid restive summer heat and unshakable night thoughts. Primarily that my car is on a parking meter out on the street, and I’d like to see it again there, rather than in a compound somewhere.
So I take an early departure from my downtown Victoria hostel, and join a queue of people weaving their way around the CBD, following the signs for the TCH.
Hitting the trails at Goldstream Provincial Park, taking the difficult route up and around Mount Finlayson, passing multiple warning signs, to reach views out over lower peaks and towards the water, the straits around the island.
It’s seriously hard work to get up here, and yet there are people running up and down the damn mountain, whereas I’m sweating extensively just walking / crawling up it.
Sliding back down to the parking lot, where someone is getting busted by the police. I don’t stop to ask questions; I sneak out in my grey rental.
Up steep and twisting inclines, to the next layby.
Falling out of my car, I head down the secret trail to arrive at Niagara Falls. This isn’t quite what I expected.
I linger for a few minutes, thinking at least I chose the right Niagara to visit … less crowds to contend with. Although more dogs sniffing me out.
Jumping back on the Trans Canada Highway, heading north through dense traffic going I don’t know where. The beach, perhaps.
I head off and follow them all along the coast road, before turning up in Cumberland – which looks like an English country village illegitimately crossed with a North American goldrush town.
I ride into town slowly, shades on, in my air-conditioned Mazda.
My room for the night overlooks the main drag.
Pleased that I have a prime spot for catching the action, I retire to the brewery tap for a fresh beer and a chicken shawarma, which has been liberally assaulted by a bright pink sauce.
It’s too busy there, so after I’ve eaten I head to the traditional pub up the road, to wade through a Forest Fog with the local crew … one of whom it turns out went to school a few miles away from where I was brought up.
This group I happened to sit next to invite me along to the karaoke night, which I tentatively agree to.
Turns out it’s the best goddamn entertainment I’ve seen for a long while – locals and non-locals belting out Ini Kamoze, Alannah Myles and Queen to a packed crowd, in various states of drunken tune and arrestable sauciness … all the while watched over onstage by a large picture of the Queen Mother.
It’s a surreal evening.
I’m staying over the road at the Riding Fool, which makes some kind of sense.
An Outside World 