I walk all the way to Rivière-Bleue, about 30 km, without a break. The route is a smorgasbord for my visual sense, all rolling hills, houses, acreages, and farms. When I pass through an area called Saint-Eusebe, I come across a house whose yard is filled with children’s toy vehicles – trucks, cars, trains – all placed so as to be pieces of art.
As I take some photos, an old man with no teeth steps out onto the porch to shake out a mat. We exchange ‘bonjours’ and then he says something I don’t understand. He laughs as he swings his arm out, indicating his works of art. I laugh with him, then give him a thumbs up for his artistic flair and carry on my merry way.
I like Rivière-Bleue. It’s what I hoped to see in small-town Quebec, cute little houses and shops encircling a main town church. And not a McDonalds to be seen anywhere. Paradise, although seemingly without a grocery store.
Near downtown, a car stops near me. A gentleman from Quebec City named Aurele Turcotte steps out and asks me about my adventure. His brother had seen me a couple of days ago back in Grand Falls, New Brunswick, and Aurele had seen me near Edmunston.
“Can I take your photo?” he asks. “I want to send it to my brother.” Aurele tells me it had also been his dream to walk across Canada, and he thought he would do it in retirement. But knee surgeries have quashed that dream; now he can only walk two kilometres before he has pain and his knees swell up.
After he takes a couple of photos of me, I ask to use his camera and invite him to stand behind my stroller for a photo. “You may not be able to walk Across Canada, my friend,” I say. “But you can have a small taste of the experience.” He beams with pride. As he departs, he says, “You have courage, David. God bless you!”
