Allow me to share with you a terrible, wonderful recipe. It comes all the way from the magical island of Newfoundland.
The recipe is as follows:
1 – Make bread dough
2 – Instead of allowing it to fulfill its life purpose by baking/rising in the oven, instead beat the shit out of it. Then fry it in pork fat.
3 – Because life is too short, top this delicious monstrosity with products that are either 80% fat, or sugar or both. Molasses is classic. Butter is also an option.
On a horse, I mean. Ever since I was a kid. Back during my childhood, whenever summer would finally reach Newfoundland, my mother would take me out for our yearly trip to Prince Edward Park, where I’d get to ride a big black mare with a white diamond on its forehead named ‘Bucky’.
I loved those days. Led by one of the riders, we’d walk worn trails shadowed by dense forest for an hour or so before returning to the stable. A stop would usually be made at the playground afterward, and ice cream would follow for the drive back home.
Glorious though it was for a young girl to simply be astride a horse, where she could imagine herself to be a royal princess (though I was more often Zorro or Robin Hood), the thing I most remember from those days was the short, recurrent argument I would always have with the lead rider.
It’s a testament to the awesomeness of the Snows that they can make time in Sydney, Nova Scotia fly by so quickly.
Much like my birthplace of Corner Brook, Newfoundland, Sydney (or, more accurately, the area around Sydney) is beautiful, and the options for hiking, driving and general outdoorsy sightseeing abound. But, as a town to live in. . .well, without mincing words too much, it’s a bit shit. Continue reading →
I am an idiot. I should have known better. This was the third time I’d returned to Canada since I began traveling 5 years ago, and I was fully aware of the many reverse culture shock-y things that can occur when one comes back to one’s country of birth after time spent abroad. I knew that travel had created a healthier life-style for me not because travel was some glorious, magical cure-all, but because of the habits that a life in transit forced or inspired me to adopt; among them, an appreciation of the everyday.
Which is why I feel the prat for not maintaining the habits I was keeping while traveling to record for this blog upon arrival back ‘home’.
While on the road there were 5 things I was never without: my phone, my camera, paper, pen and my passport. Alright, I can probably do without my passport in my home country but the rest were what allowed me to record my thoughts, take notes, capture memories and, through social media, stay connected during the course of it all. This is an ongoing blog. I’m not done. But I stopped these habits. Why?Continue reading →