Travels With Miranda

After searching the car rentals, I decided that I was best off to take the bus to Edmonton. The Greyhound fare was $30, but the hotel here warned me that the only way to get there without walking in unsavoury neighbourhoods is by cab for about $40.

I decided to check out Via Rail and discovered Red Arrow, a charter bus service. It’ll wind up being pricier than doing the Greyhound plus taxi thing, but it sounds like a much nicer experience. I’ll take a taxi to their location and then again in Edmonton from the arrival point to the dealership. This trip is costing me an arm and a leg and I’m kicking myself for making reservations ahead of time. Live and learn.

My insurance company says that if my registration had still been valid on the car, I would have had two weeks to get everything transferred over. But since it’s not, I have till 6PM to make a deal on the car and get to the registry in Edmonton before it closes. If I succeed, and there’s no reason I can’t because I am ready to pay the full $3,0o0 for the truck (although I’m hoping they’ll settled for $2,000…), then I will be spending the night at Donna and Ken‘s in Stettler, tomorrow at my property in Saskatchewan, and Wednesday I will be well on the road back to Quebec a full day earlier than my best case scenario.

Because I’ll be gaining a day, I am considering ordering my towing system parts for me to pick up somewhere along the way in the States, provided I can find a safe place to have them delivered. If I order tonight or first thing in the morning, and have them delivered in the vicinity of Duluth or even Minneapolis, there is a chance we’d arrive at the same time. Any suggestions? Would a post office hold big metal parts sent General Delivery?

I finally made it to Savannah in the spring of 2008, six months before I left Ottawa with Miranda. This harried road trip featuring bad motels and restaurant food convinced me that there had to be a better way to travel.

After spending a sticky day exploring Savannah’s historic district, I decided that the next day should be spent visiting the environs, my expedition culminating at Tybee Island, Savannah’s ocean playground.

It was the first week of April and still bitter cold back home, but on Tybee the sun was shining and it was hot. The Atlantic ocean beckoned me and I heeded its call, wading in carefully, then plunging in head first when I discovered, to my delight, that the water was warm!

Swimming opened up my appetite and I went off in search of lunch, finding it at a shack-type restaurant right on the beach called the North Beach Grill. I decided to take a chance on it since it was packed. It was a fantastic experience; a cruddy little restaurant open to sea breezes, salt shakers rusty from the sea air, rum flowing liberally, and Caribbean-style music booming from speakers. I ordered ‘grilled shrimp’ which was nothing like what I expected. I got whole shrimp, still in the shell with the legs on ’em, swimming in a cajunny-style sauce with a helping of freshly cut fries. It was one of the most undignified, delicious, and fun meals of my life. It took forever to peel those suckers using my fingers! It was there that I realised that coastal Georgia is a world unto itself where sweet tea runs freely, huge mountains of sweet shrimp big as a thumb cost less than a burger, and the people know how to take the time to breathe and enjoy a moment. It’s not paradise, but came pretty close to that for a sun and warmth-starved gal who had just fled winter!

That day in the water reminded me that when I am drained, water can renew me. I remembered this my first day in Edmonton.

(As a side note, that night I received an email that changed my life forever. But that’s another story, part of which you read whenever you visit this blog.)

Some travelers collect pins, others shot glasses or bar coasters, tee-shirts or ball caps; little trinkets to remind them of where they’ve been.  I have no patience for things that are just for looking at, so over the past few years, while I was still bound to a sticks & bricks existence, I collected blue willow dishware and artwork. Since hitting the road with Miranda, I have, for the first time in fifteen years, begun to rely solely on photographs and journal entries to remind me of where I’ve been. However, there is one purchase made in Edmonton, at Rutherford House, that I like to pull out on chilly mornings like this one, to remind me of those heady first weeks on the road: tea.

I like visiting museum giftshops because you can occasionally find unique items there. At the Rutherford House giftshop I was greeted by a lady who just had to proudly show off her personal tea blends, packaged by herself into tiny and rather pricey packages. The blend she was most proud of was the Rutherford House, which she based on the Queen’s favourite tea blend of jasmine and Earl Grey, with a personal twist. I took one sniff of that mix of my two favourite types of tea, with a secret ingredient I couldn’t identify, and I just had to have it! I think the lady was surprised to have a sale!

Since that September day, I’ve only had four cups of this tea. I have to ration it out because there is so little in the bag, enough perhaps for two or three more cups. It is a strong and fragrant blend, rather exotic, more reminiscent of warm climes than of Edmonton, and yet each sip transports me back to the parlour of Rutherford house, with its apricot walls and emerald green draperies.

Such a souvenir is more transitory than a painting, but when the tea is gone I will associate Earl Grey and jasmine to Edmonton. That is the kind of memory that lasts a lifetime.