Revelstoke, BC, Canada 01/02/13
Me “Hi can I book a taxi from 9th St in Revelstoke to the Greyhound terminal please?”
I confirm the pickup address.
Taxi ” What time?”
Taxi “Ok we’ll see you at 2AM”
Me “Don’t you want a name or phone number or something?”
Taxi “No it’s ok well have a driver there at 2AM”
I’m writing a blog and watching Bridesmaids with Nick. The bride during rehearsal shits in the street. This is hilarious even when I haven’t been smoking weed. 130AM crept up unnoticed, I’m still dirty after snowboarding, dinner and “curling”. My pack is a “son of a bitch” to organise especially when it’s all over the lounge room floor. I’m going to be on the bus to Cranbrook for the next 8 hours so I want to be clean.
Being wasted and in a rush is not good for a Heem particularly in unfamiliar territory. I make it out the front at 205AM. “Did I miss it, did I miss it?” I don’t have a canada sim card yet so I can’t make any calls. My bus is at 300AM. It’s 225 and I’m flipping out. I have to go wake up Nick inside so I can plug my flat laptop into a power point to ring the taxi on Skype. They reassure me the taxi is on the way. “Is this what’s it’s like overseas? They say the driver is on it’s way, go back to watching CSI and the taxi never comes?”
He comes. I can talk to anyone when I’m bent. It does what a drug is supposed to do.
1. Makes me laugh
2. Makes me sociable
3. Dissolves my ego
4. Connects me with the law of nature. (Karma)
I attempt to embrace the “True Essence of Giving” in my life which embodies kindness to another without the need for any recognition. The purpose of my following recounts are to illustrate why my life is changing and enjoying new wholesome relationships. “Ok that’s $9.50”. I look for the biggest bill in my clip and tip the driver. His face changed shape, everything lifted upwards. He did not expect that.
There is no one at the bus stop. It’s 3AM. I pace up and down and take some photos, everything I shoot is incredible, all my thoughts are profound, I’m a genius! (Popular creative delusions of mine under the influence). Why isn’t this fucking bus here? I opened the email ticket on wifi before I left the house so I could get on the bus. It’s 4AM. As I scan through the email, I picture my Perth homie “Bassett” rolling his eyes and telling me how hopelessly disorganised I always am. He’s right, my bus was 330AM yesterday morning.
I’m sitting on a seat, the ground is at least 10cm deep in ice. There is no one around. I have my $500 sleeping bag and there is a toilet around the corner from which it’s basin I have been drinking. There’s no way of getting back to 9th St, I’m on my own. I love a challenge. I decide I’m going to sleep in the toilet and try get a ride in the morning. A french guy rocks up with his ski gear to wait for a bus, all he can say is “Yes” and “Calgary”.
At 430AM a short man appears from a motel cabin door, he looks like a bus driver. “I wonder if he’s an arsehole”.
Me “Excuse me? are you a driver?”.
Man “I most certainly am”
I explain where I’m going and what I’ve done hoping he would know somewhere I could sleep for the night. He laughs and says don’t worry “Well get you there”. The bus he’s driving to Calgary is going to be late so he invites me to an all night cafe while we wait. His name is Dennis and when I insisted on paying for his food his soul lit up. One might say of course people smile if you give them money but it’s not the money that’s making them smile, it’s the fact you care about a stranger enough to share it. Sometimes I think about giving away all my savings. Wouldn’t that make things interesting?