Central Canada: Québec and Ontario, 2019

Looking Back: Celebrating Four Years of Van Life

Fifth in a Series

Québec

6 June 2019, La Malbaie

The Atlantic Ocean is linked to the Great Lakes by the mighty St. Lawrence River. A river over which I watched the sun set and rise again. A river I camped next to, hiked along, and gazed at as I dined. It’s the river I would cross to tour the magnificent Charlevoix Region of Québec.

The crossing certainly wouldn’t be my first ferry ride, but it was my first time on a ferry in Canada.

Sun setting on the St. Lawrence River in Riviere-du-loup

I would be sailing across Canada’s second longest river and one of the world’s most important commercial waterways. Departing from Rivière-du-Loup on the south side of the St. Lawrence. After scoping out the town, I found a spot to overnight near the ferry terminal, surrounded by other van lifers and RVers.

I felt giddy. I still get butterflies thinking about it. But why? I’m an adult that’s sailed on ferries before. My giddiness seems ridiculous. But “ridiculous” is me measuring myself against my perception of societal expectations of adult behavior. Ignoring that and digging in to examine it now, those butterflies are the unparalleled thrill of embarking on the unknown. I pray I never lose those butterflies.

Even though I knew better, I had dinner at a nearby seafood restaurant overlooking the river. The food was as mediocre as I’d anticipated. In my experience, meal quality declines as the view improves. I was hoping that particular characteristic of mid-priced U.S. restaurants wouldn’t have hopped the border to Canada. But, it did. And I didn’t even have a view with my overcooked scallops. Instead I amused myself by wondering if the Kevin James doppelganger at the next table might actually be the actor.

Maybe. Maybe not.

The next morning, I worked my remote part-time job, then queued up for the noon ferry. Having failed to purchase a ticket in advance, I didn’t make it on and had to wait for the 4:00 PM sailing. I spent the time researching stops along my intended route for the days ahead. Once on board, it was only a little over an hour until I disembarked on the other side of the river at Saint-Siméon.

A road trip of the entire Charlevoix Region is said to be five hundred and eleven (823 km) of insanely scenic landscapes on the north shore of the Saint Lawrence River, into the Laurentian Mountains area of the Canadian Shield. The region is one of the world’s largest geologic continental shields; a massive area of exposed Precambrian rock from Earth’s earliest eons. For this reason, it’s a UNESCO World Biosphere reserve. I chose only the portion of the drive south along the St. Lawrence down to Montréal. A weekend of everything I could want in a road trip: picturesque landscapes, a storied river, and quaint small towns with long histories.

View of a cotton candy sky from La Malbaie on the Saint Lawrence River

The 21-mile (33.3 km) drive from Saint-Siméon got me into La Malbaie near golden hour. I enjoyed a long walk along the river and spent the night near the river. Much to my delight, the off-season was quiet and I enjoyed the tranquility.

While La Malbaie’s history dates back hundreds of years, in the mid-19th century it became popular as a resort destination. Wealthy Americans looking to escape the oppressive heat and choking pollution of industrialized cities flocked to La Malbaie in the summertime.

It remains a desirable vacation destination to this day.

Although I’d chosen a modified version of the road trip, there was so much to see that had me completely exhausted at the end of each day, in the best way possible. Next time, I’ll travel the entire 511 miles at a leisurely pace.

Ontario

26 June 2019, Thunder Bay

Sailboat coming in to the marina at Prince Arthur’s Landing

Sitting on Lake Superior, the city of Thunder Bay is nothing like I’d imagined. Despite what I’d read online beforehand, the 10-year-old in me refused to acknowledge the populous of 150,000 residents, industry, and train yards. Of course, that was the citiest part of the city, where, after visiting half a dozen Tim Hortons, I finally found one with WiFi and electrical outlets to work remotely.

Thunder Bay. Ten-year-old me imagined secluded and densely treed coves on the lake, perfect for pirates.

Adult me came upon Prince Arthur’s Landing instead. A sprawling wide-open waterfront complex with restaurants and bars, hotels, a marina, walking trails and a splash pad. Perfect for street photography. I hung out at the splash pad and made photos for a while, fully appreciating that had I been an adult male making pictures of children I might have been chased away, or worse.

Splash pad at Prince Arthur’s Landing

Afterward, I walked the park’s trails making more photos until dark.

Canada is vast. I had tiny pangs of regret over all I missed as I traveled west. Watching the calendar, I bypassed places that piqued my interest because I was concerned about making it to Washington for my father’s birthday in August. Hesitating time after time when I’d find potential overnight stops that now I’d consider quite a score. My lack of confidence as a nomad combined with my unfamiliarity with Canada made me uncertain how long I could stay in any given place and still meet that August commitment.

Nevertheless, the novelty of van life hadn’t lost its shine. I simply considered every mile and missed attraction as recon for the next time.

Next time then, I might very well find secluded coves along Lake Superior. And maybe I will encounter pirates. Probably not. Well, definitely not.

That doesn’t matter. Surprisingly, one of the best things about my van life travels is looking back. Every missed opportunity gives me incentive to return to places that didn’t get my full attention. It’s a luxury in travel I didn’t have in the before-time. Had I still been living my conventional middle-class existence and merely vacationing, visits to many destinations would be relegated to once in a lifetime. In van life, although it took quite some time to fully embrace, there doesn’t have to be a limit on how long I linger, or how many times I return.

Featured title image: Horse-drawn trolley in Baie-Saint-Paul, Québec; Charlevoix region

Next: Canada’s Prairie Provinces

Please leave questions in the comment section if there are aspects of my van life you’d like to know more about.

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