The drive from Vancouver had taken over a year. The distance on the most direct route is 7248 kilometres, but that trip saw me drive more than 20’000 kilometres. Canada is a vast country and trying to reach North America’s eastern most point at St John’s, Newfoundland warranted deeper exploration than just trying to reach the destination in a frantic rush. I was writing an important chapter in my life. A lot of blood, sweat and tears accompanied me along the journey. Latoya, who had become more than my idealistic mode of transport and instead had become a huge part of my soul, lacked reliability; but that added to the sense of adventure.
When I reached the end of the road there was much to contemplate with everything that had been experienced during the expedition. Moments of stress and despair as we found ourselves broken down in remote communities had now been completely worth the effort. Despite all the odds against driving Latoya across the entire country in her dilapidated state we had made it. There was no further we could go. We had finally parked ourselves at Cape Spear.
It is almost five years ago to the day that I sat at the farthest extremity of that continent and found a secluded spot away from the gathered masses to think. I stared out across the Atlantic Ocean towards Europe and told myself that one day I would reach that next frontier. There would be a lot more adventures in between, but I knew I would get there eventually.
Today I am here.
Cabo da Roca. The western most point of the European mainland. The end of another road. The Atlantic Ocean from a different perspective. The end of one chapter and the start of a new one.
It is more spectacular than I expected. That is almost always true of any place where you have only seen pictures. Photographs rarely do justice to any destination’s beauty. The sea glowed in hues of aqua and the cliffs rose as dramatically as any others I had ever encountered. The backdrop of green pastures speckled with Portuguese houses adorned with red tiled roofs formed a brilliant contrast of peacefulness placed next to rugged nature. The winds were calm; something I had not thought likely in this intense location.
I feel as though I have been here before. Not this exact spot, but this exact state of mind. Standing on the edge of the earth longing for further exploration. Physically I may be restricted but my thoughts are free to drift over the horizon, just as they had done five years previously. I let them wander unhindered in a hypnotic state.
And so I bring myself back out of my trance and look south. Having closed the book I started writing all that time ago in Cape Spear I can now start to think about what comes next. Over the mouth of the Mediterranean and off into the distance towards Africa. As the crow flies it is around 8’500 kilometres to the bottom of the continent at Cape Agulhas, South Africa. I know one day I will be standing on a rock looking at where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet. I will remember this day, when I stood in Europe and forged a new plan.
When the end of the road has been reached it is time to find a different route. I walk away from Cabo da Roca, excited about the new chapter to begin and the new adventures to be had.
