Three thoughts on Bill Taylor's new dispatch from Toronto: 1) mention of April Fool reminds me that the second series of Sunderland 'Til I Die is out on Netflix today; I predict compelling misery 2) Russia's a good idea but don't watch Putin: A Russian Spy Story before you book as it may put you off and 3) talking of trains, catch the Michael Portillo's Great Canadian Railway Journey (an odd man with rotten politics but strangely appealing on rail travel) ...
Bootleg notes from the trenches:
April fool? Not this year, thanks. The obvious joke – “Surprise! Trump was right! It was a hoax!” – is just too cruel. And I’m not feeling cruel these days.
How WILL we feel in May, June, July… whenever?
Will we become less retiring – less Canadian – and more tactile? There are people I could see myself hugging whom I’ve never hugged before. (I give you fair warning, Malcolm Morrison, this could include you.)
Or will we remain instinctively reticent, suspicious, reluctant to get too close? The flinch reflex. It could take a while for that to go away.
So I suspect Malcolm and I will simply exchange formal bows at arm’s length.
As for actually, physically going away… Lesley and I have a trip to northern Italy to reschedule and she’d just about talked me into trying Russia at some point, too.
But this year? Next year? Hard to know what and when will feel right. Or even possible. Maybe for now – that is to say, whenever – we should just settle for Saskatoon. I hear it’s quite nice. Especially the Leaning Tower.
I’m aware, too, of the argument that once we can travel again, we should confine ourselves to Canada for a while to help the country recover.
But the Italian economy is down for the count and maybe we should be thinking globally. Hard to get a handle on the true situation in Russia but it can’t be good.
Meanwhile, if Trump loses the election – oh, please; oh, please – and we can bear to cross the border once again, there are friends in the States to catch up with, too. It would be nice to put some road-trip kilometres on the car before the lease is up next year and I have to give it back.
So hard to know for sure. But at least I don’t have to worry about it just yet. I can lose sleep over something else.
I’m actually NOT losing a lot of sleep right now, as always knocking on wood (and then washing my hands). Maybe that’s some kind of cocooning reflex – hibernate away the evil days.
No pandemic nightmares yet, either. I dream a lot about travel but that’s nothing new. Usually trying to come home from somewhere a long way off by totally incongruous means. Train from Australia? Takes forever! Especially if you miss the first one.
I’m spending a lot of time, perhaps too much, in my upstairs office. Lesley is here, there and everywhere around the house. But when one of us sneezes – it happens when you have cats – from wherever the other one happens to be, there’s a “bless you”. Sometimes muted but welcome, even essential, all the same. Little points of contact.
Apropos of nothing. And everything – Have you told someone you loved them lately? Probably not a bad idea. No fooling.
Recent Comments