27~Pretty, Pretty PEI: Heritage Roads and Histamine Haze

PEI

Leaving Wolfville, I was on the open roads and PEI bound; my energy reserves I thought I had rebooted at the homestead felt depleted. Scotian Gold draining from me as I drove, zest sporadically restored with glorious views and landscapes.  Why was I so tired? Maybe I was not well. But I just did not want to believe that. Ferry times from Pictou were 2:30 and then 5:15. I knew after a little lunch pick up at Oats in Wolfville and a coffee stop (trying to sort out some damn Paypal issue) that the 2:30 ferry would be impossibility. Well, I could explore Pictou or perhaps sleep in the car. The latter more appealing in my present state. 

I have no idea how it worked but I flew to Pictou and decided to carry on to the ferry terminal. I had a feeling luck may be on my side. It would be soooo much better to get to Charlottetown at a reasonable hour so I could have a walk and another very early night. It was 2:36 and the ferry was still there. Have I missed this one? I asked the lady in a way that indicated I had already accepted defeat. Are you the lady due for the meeting? she asks. Ummmmmm, no? I say in a hopeful way. Maybe if I was that would mean I could get on. But I am not a liar or blagger by nature. Well, sunshine, you head on through, it is your lucky day. I was the last car on and I guess the woman hauling ass across the highway would not make her meeting, but I was really glad that they had held the ferry for her. Don’t know if all the early and timely passengers were, I did not suffer too many looks (I only furtively glanced to check) and hell, for all they knew, I had a VERY important meeting to get to. 

My fatigue begins to play tricks on me. Maybe I have a disease from a tick bite. My leg is super itchy and I have two prominent bumps. I want to enjoy the view as the ferry heads across the water into PEI, but I am trying to get on the Wifi and google the effects of tick bites. Luckily, the wifi is failing. I speak to a girl in the restroom because I need to quell  my paranoia. She attempts to console me. But she is a Novia Scotian born and bred and is yet to see a tick- I have seen two!! One on my leg, which watched and then had to flick off with repeated force. I thought it was just an odd teeny beetle and watched it for some time upon my leg. Then I brought one into the car. Up on Brier Island when I hiked to catch the view, I thought I had sweat trickling down my belly when I returned from the steep climb. I look and knowing then what a tick looks like, I pull over, controlling a bout of hysteria. I am not as calm as I would hope and flick it, only to then have to search the car to ensure it is gone for good. I do not want to be a human host for one of these little mites. Seems they are quite keen on me. This girl says that she knows how difficult it can be when you are in a new country and an ailment (potential death by tick bite in my case) occurs- her and her friend where in Germany just last week and she suffered with a terrible ear problem that they had to get resolved before they flew. I listen rapturously, comforted in the plight of her friend and looking for a happy ending, believing it to bode well for me. She confirms what I was thinking- I will head straight to the pharmacist in Charlottetown. Talking to someone did help; a problem shared and all that. I must have been blathering from some time. Her husband is waiting outside the bathroom and gives me an odd look.

Just an hour on the ferry and PEI is a whole new world. It looks different, smells different, feels different. Arriving in Charlottetown flummoxes me for a second because suddenly there is traffic and I am city driving for some moments. Thee youth hostel is cute and the sun is shining. A very helpful, chipper girl signs me in and is sympathetic to my fatigue and paranoia. She packs me off in the direction of a pharmacist and laundromat. The pharmacist is kind. I regale my concerns and am wondering why he has not taken me into the cubicle. I am ready to drop my pants, show him the suspected area, I am beyond potential embarrassment. I want help, feel desperate for a thorough examination and a conclusive diagnosis. If it was a tick still in me, I would see it’s ass sticking out basically. It sounds like I have been bitten by a black fly or something like that. I have been known to react badly to bites before… We pick out a non drowsy anti-histamine and I head on my way. Immediately I knock one back. Washing is done in a little corner store and I wait between the wash and dry cycle on a bench. I see a girl with a yoga mat and I pounce on her (the liveliest I have been ince my run this morning) and she is so sweet. We talk for about 15 minutes and she directs me to the Moksha studio on the waterfront. I sign up and thinking this will lift the fatigue, haze and strangeness I feel. 6:30am class tomorrow, be there or be square, Jess. I go to get my clean and dry pjs and other items and head back. It seems strange- this place has people dolled up, some men in suits and a little street with lively restaurants. I feel like a zombie.

I go to bed early, like 7:30am early, speaking briefly to the two girls in the dorm. Cordy, a German girl is lovely. She gives me ear plugs, informing me not to be alarmed but the Korean girl has night terrors at around 2:00am. Cordy too is signed up to Moksha studio and has been here for a few days. I am out for the count. I wake at 1:42 am. Has the Korean girl woken me? Sure enough, even through the earplugs I hear the murmurs that develop into some more distressed sounding Korean dialogue. Bless her, she is so young and travelling by herself. Her English is not so good, she is really quite shy too and I really admire her bravery. She is heading out on the bus to Montreal in the morning- an epic journey. She is packing and struggling- she has bought loads of little chocolate parcels for her friend from the Anne of Green Gables store and she will be carting them around for some time (the reputation of Asian girls being crazy about this storybook gal ain't a lie, or exaggeration- this hostel is indicative of that with signs in the bathrooms in English and Japanese). Cordy and I speak about her later. I am worried for her! Cordy had noticed how she was always trying to hide her ‘teeth bracelets’ when she spoke, embarrassed by them. She is so girly and young. Terribly shy and sweet. But, Cordy says, she is no pushover. I invited her to come and do something with me and she said no, because she had a different agenda with some photographs she wanted to take. And I really respected her for that, says Cordy. She has got this far, I say. Travelling for the past 2 months and another 1 to go.

I drag myself to the yoga, popping another antihistamine as I go. The morning is lovely and a fox trots across the park. Bugger, it is yoga in a hot room. Not really explored this road before. I quite enjoy it. I feel tired still but put this down to the early start and the imaginary tick poisoning. I head back for breakfast at the hostel and then to the tourist info to sort a bike. Confederation Trail, here I come. I set off, ambitious. I begin to realise why people do not really do the stretch of the trail taking you out of  Charlottetown. I think the general idea is to get dropped off somewhere and do some really scenic sections. It is actually pretty miserable. I am struggling but beat myself up. Keep going! You have only biked 8k. At least get somewhere good. I keep stopping and eating all the snacks I packed- maybe it is the Moksha yoga? My legs are not moving fast enough. They are like lead. I have not seen a soul for miles- no other loser is on this section and my eyes are literally closing. I see a bench. I can only compare it to what I imagine seeing a glass of water when in the depths of dehydration in a desert. I park my bike, lie out and SLEEP. 

No kidding. I sleep for possibly an hour and I have to give in, head back. While I have the resolve. I pedal. I am in a trance. I get to a part where I have to cross a road. A road worker is motioning to me. Hello, I say. Hopefully this is the right response. Nope, he is informing me that my helmet is on backwards. Oh, I say, as I cross the road. I fell asleep on a bench. He raises his eyebrows and laughs. I continue on. I go to a Vietnamese restaurant and have food. I feel ravenous and wonder if the food may give me energy. 

I drop off the bike and go to yin yoga. The quiet and surrender will hopefully be the remedy to this trance like state I appear to be in. It is a sensational experience. I think people probably pay money to experience the  highs I felt. It was otherworldly. Surrendering my body into deep and long positions I hav flashes, visions and feelings wash over, through me. I revisit the homestead and can feel the land and the sun on my face. I see Kristin and feel Lucy snuggling into me. Lunenberg, Yarmouth. Memories are sharp and then they dissolve, a delicious Nova Scotian montage, blending and merging. I wonder at one point if I have been asleep. The teacher, Kenny is calming and I am lost in his poetic yin words and analogies. I gather myself and a little weirded out, I head back. Maybe I should just go to bed. I take one more residency on a bench between the studio and hostel. I think I sleep but only for a half hour this time.

Cordy and I have some chats and will do a drive to Summerside and Victoria tomorrow. I share with her how I am feeling and she looks at my medication. This is the very thing she takes for her extreme allergies to animal hair. She never takes it in the day time because it has the exact same sleep inducing effects I have been suffering from on her! Jesus! I am sort of relieved because on top of feeling wrung out, then listless and lifeless, I thought I could be on my way out. I google the adverse side effects of the medication:  drowsiness, dizziness, confusion, anxiety, nausea, blurred vision, restlessness, decreased coordination, dry mouth, shallow breathing, hallucinations, irritability, problems with memory or concentration, tinnitus. Yep, had most of them.

Charlottetown

Another morning hot yoga sesh and Cordy and I head out. She is 33. I thought she must be mid 20’s. She is a magistrate. She is married. She had always been whining to her husband that she wished she had gone away for Uni, had done a travelling stint but just never had. She set the ball in motion for sabbatical. Her husband encouraged her  (alledgedly, said you better blooming go! Because I don’t want you screaming and crying that it is something you always wanted and never got the chance to!), and he will meet her mid trip for 3 weeks in Canada and the States. Her 3 month trip started with a week of handbag shopping with a girl friend in NYC. Then, a month on Cape Breton wolfing on a farm; she has achieved things she never thought possible- feeding animals, milking them and all the sorts of farm activities a fancy city girl just is not accustomed to. She is little in love with PEI. A man she spoke to on the plane from Germany to NYC was from these parts; he told her PEI was the beautiful place in the world. She says she is inclined to find a bit of truth in that. Cordy will move on to New Brunswick, meet her hubby and then go solo for the last part in Vancouver where we plan to meet.

Our day is great. We head out to hit the scenic route and see where it takes us.

Lots of pulling over for photo opps:

Cordy is a supportive passenger; not flummoxed when I drive on the wrong side of the road, twice (those damn pills or have I been doing this more frequently but alone so not realising?), even telling me she thinks I am doing a great job. We see so many lovely heritage roads. 

Happen upon a cool place for a coffee:

Summerside is a little disappointing but Victoria blows us both away.

We have an awesome lunch:

We drive and stop to take more photos:

Look, Cordy squeals, just like someone back at the hostel said- the sea sparkles at 4:00 because of where the sun is! 

We both have throughly enjoyed the day and our time together. We stop at a cafe I had clocked for a Chai tea: 

Cordy tells me it is one of her best days on her trip so far. I am still wiped from my sleep inducing meds. So another early night is in order. Cape Breton bound tomorrow and it is a 7 hour drive because I want to head up to Cavendish to see the Anne of Green Gables area. I had thought it would be 4 hours and this is obviously a gross miscalculation. I have a little run on the harbour and to Victoria Park before I leave in the morning. All these Victorias and soon will be back to the place I was born Victoria, B.C. It is Sunday and everyone is sleeping still in the youth hostel. I chat with the lovely worker preparing the breakfast. She is doing workaway and wwoofing. She has just arrived to do a 2 months here, following a few months on a farm in Texas. She wants work in education, but one of her teachers, who she holds in high regard, told her to go and experience the world for awhile. She is. South America next to work on a farm and then wherever the wind takes her- she wants to hit each continent, barring Antarctica. So, everyone you meet has an interesting and inspiring story. 

Cordy said to me I was brave. I thought exactly the same about you, I say. You see, she says, we all are just doing what we are doing, admiring each other and not always recognising what we are doing is just as brave. 

Sleeping on a bench might not be a commendable act of bravery or my finest moment to date. But adventuring on your own, drastically changing your life is kind of brave. With all the lovely friends you find along the way to inspire and enrich, you are never alone for too long. No more antihistamines, to keep lapping up my journey of wonders and happiness, I need to be sure to: "Be safe, honey, and don't miss a minute!" Will therefore keep off the antihistamines and therefore not endure the dangers of hypersomnia, wrong side of the road driving, succumbing to slumber on benches and hallucinations. Through the haze (and sleeps) I may have missed some potentially wonderful PEI moments, I am sure. But I have a number of precious ones: a new friend, a plethora of new vistas seeped into my soul and a restored constitution. Priceless.