A Layover - Travel Photography - Trans-Canada '25 (VI)

June 16^th, 2025: Day Twelve

Distance Travelled: Unknown
Days in Hotel/Motel VS Campgrounds: 5/6

Bruce Peninsula National Park, Ontario –
Mississauga, Ontario

After the less than satisfying hike the night before I was eager to get on the road and head straight to my Aunt and Uncles. Repacking the car for travel-mode has become very routine at this point and I have a good system. Essentially just yank everything out and repack as needed. When I first started, I tried to play Rubik’s cube with everything and leave it in the car, but that was unnecessarily complicated. Now I only do that when it’s raining.

Today was a straight drive to Mississauga, stopping for gas, and the liquid gold that was an iced americano from Starbucks.

After passing Orangeville, the 80KM max posted speed limit went right out the window for everyone and I found myself in the slow lane doing 105KPH just to keep up. Normally I’d be a stickler for the rules like doing the posted 25KPH in the national park the day before while some douche rode my ass, but here I wasn’t taking any chances. This is also where my Garmin GPS showed its superiority to Google Maps on my phone, indicating which lane I needed to be in and when, complete with animated graphics. A blessing by the time I got to some of the busier freeways.

During my trip I listened to Enigma, a band I keep going back to again and again and something that needs to be experienced in its entirety on an album-by-album basis.

When I arrived shortly after 2pm it was warm greetings all around and for the next several hours the drinks and conversation flowed. My cousin Brent came over, and a good time was had by all. A couple of ducks even showed up and spent their time in the pool.

The chats continued late into the night between Uncle Glen and I as I did some laundry.

June 17^th, 2025: Day Thirteen

Distance Travelled: 0KM
Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 5/6/1

Mississauga, Ontario

I say I didn’t travel anywhere but I did go in Uncle Glen’s car to see Nanni today. Nanni is ninety-four years old, so I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting. I ordered a coffee from Skip the Dishes because I was lazy and wanted an iced americano. After I got it, we headed down and when we arrived, I was immediately met with the familiar smells from previous visits. The trees and plants at first, which took me aback, and then the inside, especially the basement which was a favourite spot, filled with board games and toys that belonged to my father and his brothers.

Nanni was in her recliner, and we had gone over because she couldn’t work the TV. She sometimes contacts Uncle Glen for things like this, and he also takes care of her bills, as she would tell me that she got into the unknown habit of paying everything twice.

I had a good chat with her. We talked about some old times like the wedding. A story that she repeats every time I talk with her is a boyfriend she had for eleven years who passed away unexpectedly shortly after surgery. She called him the love of her life which I don’t expect her three sons to appreciate, but I get it. When my Papa died, I bet she thought that was it, and to meet someone else in her elder years, and have all the experiences she did must have been amazing. Then, to lose him after what I understand to be a routine procedure is a tragedy.

I know that when she was eighty and I was visiting she was still expecting to go at any time so here, at ninety-four and still living in the same home she has been in since 1953 must be surreal. It is for me. That duplex is the only constant in my life. I have memories of playing there with my cousins when I was five years old and while there are changes, more of it has stayed the same.

There’s a bathroom in the basement, a favourite spot of mine (don’t ask me why, I don’t know) and it’s almost identical as far back as I can remember.

One thing that was upsetting was the doorway leading into the kitchen had notches for the heights of the three boys. My two uncles and father. Well, the sands of time have exfoliated the names and all that remains are the notches…

Uncle Glen and Aunt Jodie’s home gives similar vibes. I think they have been here since 1988. I remember playing billiards in the basement, and games in Brent’s room. There are quite a few relics…talismans if you will in both places that spark memories. Everyone has been lovely, while I was expecting the opposite and again this trip has taught me to suspend my perceptions and just “see what happens.” I thought that I would just want to explore Toronto, and the other big cities and while I still do, I felt I have had the most healing and renewal from my times in the rural areas of the country. Same with accommodations, as I was convinced I’d be begrudgingly sleeping in the car and found myself looking forward to it.

I will see Uncle Ray and Aunt Phyllis tomorrow.

One thing I will say while I backup my files to an external drive is I cannot believe I thought I would have time to blog weekly while on this pilgrimage. It’s one thing to journal every day, it’s another to keep the joneses with a website and create “content.” Not only do I think it would suck up my self-reflection time, but I just can’t imagine having the same experience I have had if I had to bottle it into a contrived bite sized piece for some algorithm.

June 18^th, 2025: Day Fourteen

Distance Travelled: Less than 5 KM
Days in Hotels VS Campgrounds VS Guest: 5/6/2

Mississauga, Ontario

I had an amazing sleep. At least statistically. I had an 84/100 score on my watch.

I am starting to feel like it might be time to get underway. I’m getting that bored/restless feeling I had just before I left Calgary. If I sit too long, it’s going to be more of an adjustment once I get going again.

I got to see my Uncle Ray today. I was supposed to see Phyllis too, but she had to stay back for the plumbers at their home.

I had a good chat with Ray, about school, why I am doing what I am doing, family history of course, and at the end of lunch he handed me a little bag with what looked like a pin in it. I thought, oh, a pin for my hat or shirt or something like this. Upon closer inspection though I spot the Nazi symbol.

It was a pin taken from a surrendered Nazi soldier near the end of the war from my Papa, who served in the Navy. I don’t have much from him, a wristwatch back at home I got shortly after he passed that Nanni gave me and now this. It’s a piece of history I’ll always cherish (and keep from the eyes of others).

I was going to get a beard trim. As I typed that I was still thinking about it actually. I’m leaning towards doing it myself. I can always do it myself and if it turns out like crap go to the barber.

[Supplementary Entry]

I went to the barber. A place called Billionaire Barber, which had great ratings and was about five minutes away. I told the guy, a beefy dude called Mo, what I wanted, and he went ahead and did pretty much what he wanted anyway. I did keep him off my mustache though. I came back smelling awful, but the beard trim was good. I took a shower and trimmed the ends of my own stache and overall was happy with the results.

It’s time now to have a look at hotels and pack it in and get all my gear ready for the trip out tomorrow.