Roaming Onwards

The hushed roar of the Otonabee River was the most intoxicating sound. My discomfort seemed to melt away as I watched the rivets of water lap against one another, synchronised and unceasing. I cast my gaze across the adjacent shoreline. It was frequented by clusters of trees, their leaves a canvas of vibrant colour: every colour imaginable. Balmy evenings such as these would soon be few and far between, and the desire to savour my first autumn here was near overwhelming.

Champlain College, a primeval labyrinth of greenery and concrete, rose up majestically beyond the Faryon Bridge. Further uphill, a drumlin lay shrouded in the wilderness, begging to be discovered. All the while I remained undisturbed, left to my eager observations, and decided there and then that I would be happy to stay put for a while.

Peterborough is what my Canadian friends would lovingly refer to as “a small ass town.” Sleepy river side cafés, quaint parks, classic pubs: it’s a quintessential Ontarian hideaway. Travellers aplenty have no doubt made pit stops here, probably hungry for the vibrancy of Toronto, beckoning them ever southwards. Some may pause to enjoy a bite at one of the town’s independently owned eateries. Most will grab a Tim Horton’s via the highway, and move on swiftly in anticipation of their next adventure.

To me, Peterborough was no pit stop town. It was a town that embraced the furthest flung wanderers and fashioned a home for them, more diverse and enriching than may first meet the eye. Within days I knew for certain that the friendships I had forged here would last a lifetime, I had effortlessly memorised the names of the main streets, and the waitress at my favourite café could even recite my breakfast order by heart.

The shores of the Otonabee often beckoned my return in the coming months: the ‘river that beats like a heart’ as the indigenous so aptly named it. It was my first point of exploration as a solo traveller, and I am still yet to happen upon any place quite like it.

As was inevitable, the lure of pastures new soon became irresistible and like any ardent traveller, I continued on my journey. But though tinged with sadness, my departure also provided an unanticipated sense of fulfilment.

In time, I will return to my riverside sanctuary. I will breathe the familiar air, listen for the current, and it will feel just like coming home.