Time to escape

There is no better summer holiday painting than this: Alex Colville, To Prince Edward Island, 1965

What better thing to do than escape?

I escape a lot. When I tell my friends I’m going somewhere, the conversation inevitably changes to how often I travel. I’m on the road a lot, we always agree. But where my friends take trips to Berlin or Morocco, work trips to Denmark or Paris, my trips take me to Winnipeg if I’m lucky. Toronto more often than not. Ottawa too often.

This is not me complaining. My travel schedule and the work that I do means that I get to see a lot of Canada — from its main drags to its public libraries, from charming waitors into giving me extra balsamic vinegar as a sign of Italian solidarity (this worked in Saskatoon earlier this year) to suprising waitors who know my writing (this worked in Saint John earlier this year), I love travelling Canada. I especially love doing it for work — I dip in or dip out as much as I want to what’s happening in a place and there’s usually a pool that I can float in and sing to myself.

But it’s true: where I usually go isn’t Paris or Rabat. And when I actually stopped to think about the last time I left North America, I hit me that it hasn’t been since 2008. 2008! That was …. hold on … 15 years ago.

By the time you read this, I’ll be jet lagged and disoriented somewhere in London. Not London, Ontario — something I have probably said 100 times thanks to my 100s of trips from Quebec City to London, Ontario — though London in French is London and I am in Londres. Or, I hope to be. I’m actually writing this from Quebec City and my flight leaves in 2 hours.

I’m escaping. Bouncing. Peacing out. We have no plans while there. It will be ten days of dérive and hoping that pub fare has enough vegetarian options to not tempt me into ordering chicken fingers.

There are just under 2000 people who subscribe to this substack and just over 200 who pay to subscribe. Thanks to all of you, the ones who pay and the ones who share — I appreciate both deeply. Whenever you see something I’ve written here, you can ask yourself — why isn’t this in an outlet? Why isn’t this in the Toronto Star (where I have never written) or the Washington Post (where I used to write) or The Maple (where I currrently have a column)? The reality is that Canadian media is too small and way, way too small for someone like me. And so, every time I write something here it’s because it cannot go anywhere else. Sometimes that’s because of timing; sometimes that’s because of content. But regardless, your support for this Substack helps ensure I have somewhere to go.

And I can’t thank you enough because there’s nothing more pathetic than a writer with nowhere to go.

With that — I’m off for awhile. You will not see me in your inbox for at least a few weeks. If you’re in Halifax, I’ll be speaking about my books and social change at this public event. Please come. But for everyone else, thanks for your support and I’ll be feeling it especially as I can afford to check out from the world for a little while.

My fall travel schedule is shaping up to be chaotic — Calgary and Banff and St. Catharines in September, Peterborough, Toronto and San Diego in October. Fingers crossed for Winnipeg in November and then Vancouver in December — and probably more as people emerge from their summers realizing that Fall is just around the corner and they have events to plan.

So while I escape a lot, and I’m grateful for that, I also don’t actually escape enough. I write to you from beyond that escape and will talk to you all when I’m back. I hope you’re not reading this because you too have escaped somewhere.