It was hot today. Hot like July even though it’s the beginning of May. A terrible day for a lot of people, including the 80,000 climate-change refugees fleeing Fort McMurray. But a good day to get out for a walk here.
An old route, but a good one, because of the promise of Vietnamese food at the halfway point. And that promise was fulfilled! I would’ve taken a picture of my coconut vegetable soup but the restaurant was too dark and I was too busy eating it.
Heat means sweat, and sweaty feet mean blisters. So I’m hobbling around this evening. Maybe I didn’t use enough Vaseline. Strange that my feet blister so easily now, because I walked across Spain without any. Something has changed and I don’t know what it could be.
It was a day of crossing footbridges, partly because the city has finished replacing the old wooden one over the creek. These are just a sample:
I started thinking about bridges as metaphors: crossing obstacles, connecting things. But mostly I was just catching up on episodes of This American Life that I’d missed. Eventually I got tired of Ira Glass–I never thought I’d say such a thing–and enjoyed the sound of the wind and the birds. And the sight of the greening willow trees and the graffiti that the kids have added to the old railway bridge over the creek. Perhaps when Peter Gould comes to visit next week he’ll add a hook-handed miscreant with a stogie and an anchovy.
My path took me past the Dojack Centre, which is, as the crow flies, remarkably close to the site of the old Regina Indian Industrial School. It made me think of the Maclean’s article that argues that Canada’s prisons are the new residential schools. I also went by another local landmark: one of the city’s handful of movie theatres. When we moved here 18 years ago, there were many more, but they’re gone now.
I’m sunburned and my feet hurt, but I walked 25 kilometres in 30 degree heat with a pack without getting heat exhaustion, and that’s worth celebrating with a cold beer.