The first day of our road trip around the Gaspésie Peninsula, Caroline asked me my intentions for our time away. I had turned my cellphone off the night before, which it would remain for the duration of our two week trip. Our directions would be provided by a paper map and asking locals. Perhaps it stems from a nostalgia for a simpler time, but my heart tells me it comes from a desire to think deeper and to connect more profoundly with myself and the world around me.
I replied to be present and observant. I didn’t want to be pulled out of my peaceful maritime surroundings by notifications and emails from back home. I would be back soon enough, and I would answer upon my return.
I wanted to breathe deep, to fully observe the nature around me, and experience what lay on our path.
We drove the coast in counterclockwise direction so we would always be driving on the ocean side of the highway. Looking out over the endless expanse of crystal blue, it was difficult at times to distinguish the horizon line, the colour of the water blending seamlessly into the sky.
In limiting our access to information we’re left to wonder. The easy answers provided by the internet and artificial intelligence tempt us to avoid the time-consuming work of deep thought and introspection. Why think for 10 days when you can get a response from ChatGPT in 10 seconds?
Exposure to the variety and grandeur of nature that this country has to offer tends to reinforce in me my deep fondness for time spent in the outdoors. When I’m living closer to nature, I find myself following a more natural rhythm, my sleeping patterns following the sun and the stars. Detaching from the internet and screened devices this trip further pushed me to follow my intuition.
Gaspésie feels an apt place for such an experiment. Along our course we were charmed by the cordiality we encountered amongst locals. It felt somehow vintage to witness fellow customers say hello to one another in the stores.
We passed through a small fishing town nearing the end of our trip to go to a thrift store inside the local church. One customer was telling the volunteer working the cash about the bounty of chanterelles she had picked on her property. I saw Caroline’s eyes lit up. Somehow the customer noticed and offered to go pick us some and a few moments later returned with a brown paper bag containing a few handfuls of the brilliant orange mushrooms.
Maybe there’s something we can learn from paying attention to the past ways of doing things. As with any holiday, it’s easy to fall back into routine upon returning home, resuming where you left off. When we go back home, I hope I can bring with me the sort of kindness, patience and generosity I witnessed. And maybe keep my intentions of being present and observant too.