There it stood in the middle of my parent’s living room, all set to be shipped the following day. I was filled with excitement! My beautiful new trunk with its shiny brass lock and hinges looked truly majestic, I thought, as I gazed at it. The labels on each side clearly indicated its destination; The Arosa Sun, Wharf 24, Quebec City, Quebec. This was the last I would see of my trunk until Lois and I returned to London from our hitch-hiking tour around Scotland and Ireland.
Our hearts were truly young and gay! For one whole year we had been planning the adventure of our lifetime. England was cold and the flats were damp our English friends told us. There was no central heating so bring lots of warm woolies, they said. We made lists and we shopped; sweaters, cardigans, wool skirts and suits, flannel PJ’s for night-time and a sturdy hot water bottle to warm the bed each night. All these things and more would fill my trunk.
My thoughts turned to the one outfit I would wear on our hitch-hiking trip. Since we didn’t want to be mistaken for American tourists we planned our wardrobe with care. I picked out a gray wool skirt, one with side pleats, and a navy blazer. My rhinestone maple leaf pin stood out on the lapel, clearly announcing that I was Canadian.
The summer flew by and on August 15th, with the anticipation of two four year olds on their first day of school, we boarded the Arosa Sun in Quebec. It took us no time to settle in. For the next eight days our cabin became our bedroom, its port hole our window, our window to a world of only sea and ocean. What a sense of freedom! Eight days of fun filled activities, eight nights of dancing!
Two weeks later and following our four day visit to the Festival, we set out from Edinburgh on our travels around Scotland. With our ruck-sacks packed and our route well mapped to help us find our first youth hostel, we found our way to the outskirts of the city. We agreed to take turns sitting in the passenger seat. We could then alternate talking to the driver. After walking for well over an hour we finally screwed up the courage to raise our thumbs. Within minutes a car came to a full stop. In one quick instance we had become experienced hitch-hikers.
One day as we drove along I turned around to see what the commotion was all about in the back seat. The owner’s dog who was sitting beside Lois had sniffed her lunch and a battle for the contents had ensued.
Another sunny morning, a lorry, carrying bags of flour came to an abrupt halt. It was my turn so I climbed. Between the noise of his vehicle, his Scottish accent and the fact that he had few teeth, if any, I had difficulty following his conversation. The only thing I could make out, was that there was a fair in the town we were coming to. A country fair we rejoiced! However, with a smile on his face he came to as abrupt a stop, as he had made when he picked us up.
It didn’t take long for Lois and me to discover what his smirk was all about. As we picked our way through the muck in the village, we saw animals wandering about through the streets, their tails swinging about in the open shop doorways including the bakery. The farmers brought their animals to town for sale once a month. We decided we would look for a restaurant in the next village for lunch.
When our hitch hiking days came to a close we headed back to London and within days had moved in to a flat with two other Canadian girls. This was to be our home for the coming year.
The following day my trunk arrived from storage. That beautiful shiny navy trunk! For one brief moment I was almost homesick! Then the unpacking began. Life in London had begun!
