Letting my heart run wild...

So this morning I became a cheesy scriptwriter’s dream - I ran away with a boy. In typical Hollywood fashion, nature conspired against me to create a farewell scene so ominous, even Romeo would have been intimidated. As I waved goodbye to my siblings, the thunder rumbled and lightning struck, revealing a curtain of falling raindrops that flickered like phosphorescence. Laden with heavy bags I made my way down the hill and towards my double-decker carriage; I’m not so sure Cinderella would have approved, but that’s okay, I haven’t packed for a glass-slipper occasion.

The wonderful bus driver kicked off my trans-Atlantic voyage beautifully; after letting me on for free he humored me with longing tales of Canada and then handed me three Ferrero Roche, a nectarine, a packet of salted peanuts and an armful of luck for my journey ahead. I ended up passing the chocolates on to a kind fella that helped me lift my bags onto the train, but devoured the fruit and rationed the peanuts after seeing the fried fare up for grabs on the flight.

Thankfully the nine and a half hours passed without much discomfort; I watched the opening credits of a few films, chatted a little and even attempted forty winks, but realistically only managed eight. Before I knew it, I had landed, cleared security and was stood in arrivals waiting for my beau to reveal himself. Unfortunately he missed my carefully choreographed strut through the arrivals gate, and instead sauntered his way over after a quick call to his mobile.

Walking through the car-park felt surreal. In the past two months Lucan had undergone a dramatic character change from soul mate to villain to a lost love. It was only in the last three weeks that he has earned back some of his credits with grand gestures and heat-felt promises. Our time apart had redefined a life without him, and now all of sudden there he was again - the ever present protagonist in my fairy tale love story.

The most romantic gesture is undoubtedly the acquisition of a 1996 Delica Mitsubishi van which Lucan has worked on day and night to transform into a charming home on wheels; or what he has monikered the ‘adventure vessel’. Peeling off my blindfold and climbing into it was nothing short of magical - fueled by love, Lucan had managed to turn a dream into a reality in rapid time. In less than two weeks he had built us a double bed, drawers, cupboards, a retractable table and even laid a wooden floor. In addition to that, Lucan had bought us coconuts, sashimi and fruit - quite possibly the best way to start our Nomadic pilgrimage through North America.

After my last bite of sushi and a tour around the van, I was whisked off on an impromptu trip to the States, which was bulwarked somewhat by the three hour wait at the American border, but was fun and spontaneous nonetheless. Our drive to Seattle started off picturesque, but rapidly turned into a Scandinavian designer’s worst nightmare; beautiful trees had been unapologetically replaced by hundreds of billboards advertising everything from mattress depots to the obligatory fast food joints. What I had assumed was a Canadian’s exaggerated description of American malls, proved to be true. Nevertheless, they are what they are, and what they are is massively convenient - like mini cities every few miles, it didn’t take us long before the van was completely road-trip proof and we were prepped Helly Hansen style for a BC downpour.