Finally, my car is parked and unpacked. My road trip totaled 2265 miles over 23 days through 7 cities. I’m bushed and you know what? I’m not doing this again. Don’t get me wrong, I love travel, especially for taking photographs. I love looking at architecture in different cities, trying local cuisine, and of course, people watching . That’s the fun part. The not fun part is rough roads, all seemingly under construction, long delays and aggressive drivers. Yes, Canadians are known for being nice and apologetic, but don’t kid yourself, their drivers are just as type A as those in the good old USA. 

This year, we can add high gas prices, and calculating what $1.98 per liter in Canadian dollars converts to in US dollars per gallon. That however, is not the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. No, the real culprit is time, more specifically how much of it has passed. I learned full well that I am not as young as my brain thinks. I cannot lift what I used to lift, I cannot walk for hours as I used to, and the weight of what I once considered a small shoulder bag, a camera with three lenses, makes my shoulders ache in too short a time. Changing locations every few days, unpacking and repacking, and driving long stretches between locations has taken its toll one that I will not pay again.

In 2019, before Covid changed the world, I came upon the idea of finding a place for the summer, away from Washington, D.C.’s legendary summer heat and humidity.  I rented an apartment in Oceanside, California that overlooked the beach road. I enjoyed it, however, it was a bit too busy; trucks blaring music and revving motorcycles too often shattered the quiet. I had to skip 2020 – thanks again Covid – and then in 2021 it was off to Boulder, Colorado for two months. As hot as D.C. but not humid, beautiful scenery and nice parks, good eats, but short on city-like energy. To be candid, I got a little bored after the first month. If I was a hiker or bicyclist, I would have loved it, but alas, I am not.

I’m now thinking about where to land next summer, and I’ve been told I might already be a bit late. The number of seasonal vacation homes has dried up in the past few years as people bought second homes or work remotely. I’m going to be heading north again, along the coastline, probably to New Hampshire, or Vermont.  Wherever I end up,  I’ll unpack once. I’ll adopt the attitude and demeanor of a resident. I’ll work on my photography organically, without the time pressure these shorter jaunts impose. I’ll tour the area a bit, perhaps take a day trip back to Montreal for poutine and a handmade strawberry-lemonade in the old quarter. If I can find a place with a porch and a rocking chair with a view of the water, I’ll be in heaven, always wanted a porch. 

Thanks for reading …

Aboud