,
There is
nothing more exciting than celebrating your native land’s national holiday
whilst gallivanting around the globe, traipsing across foreign soil, thousands
of miles from home. As much as I relish
the anticipation of setting my pink-sneakered footprints upon the medieval
cobble-stoned pathways of a quaint provincial town or scrambling about the perimeters
of the crumbled ruins of the Colosseum, there is no place in the world dearer
to me than my Canadian homeland. Whether gawking in appreciative wonder at the
jutting and massive rock of Gibraltar or contemplating the mysteries of the
twinkling heavens on a Florentine starry night, my heart nonetheless remains
firmly rooted and forever connected to its home across the ocean. Spotting a red and white Maple Leaf flag or
serendipitously bumping into a fellow Canadian whilst wander-lusting around the
world, sets my ticker ablaze, instantaneously bridging the 3,650 mile distance
and magically transporting me back home.
It was
therefore with a hop, skip and a major thump that my heart momentarily stalled
and literally melted upon sight of the row of Canadian flags hung ceremoniously
from the white-washed exterior of London’s Canada House. Located within the vicinity of Trafalgar
Square, this 19th century Greek Revival building is the home of the
High Commission of Canada. The High
Commission is an oasis of refuge to Canadians living and travelling in the UK,
should, perchance, one require the replacement of a lost passport or the services
of their 24 hour emergency assistance hotline.
Beaming with
a wealth of North American pride, anxious to shout from the rooftops that it’s
Canada’s birthday on July 1st, the sight of the red and white
billowing squares re-affirmed my identity as a Canadian and helped ease the
tinge of home-sickness that I had been feeling ever since leaving on my
overseas journey.
Sporting my
slightly tattered and well-worn Hudson’s Bay designed Olympic jean jacket
emblazoned with a mishmash of Maple Leafs, beavers, canoes and rugged outdoor adventure
inspired patches, so fierce was my pride in proclaiming my Canadian status,
that I unflinchingly withstood the
unseasonably rare and sweltering 30 degree heat, and stubbornly refused to
discard said denim garment. Melting,
broiling and virtually drowning in an un-flattering pool of sweat, I
nonetheless “kept calm and carried on”,
hypnotically mesmerized by the row of Maple Leaf flags swaying elegantly in the
wind.
It is no
wonder then, that I endured the puzzled glances of curious passer-bys on that
sizzling July afternoon, as I stoically stood on the steps of Canada
House, grateful to have set foot upon a piece of Canada thousands of miles away
from home. I certainly must have done
justice to the phrase “It’s cold in
Canada, eh?” being the only person for miles around who was warmly bundled
up in a long-sleeved heavy jacket on a scorching hot and humid day.
Come discover
a little bit of Canada in the heart of London as I gleefully celebrate Canada Day in the UK…come traipse around the world and travel with me…
Next week
– where do my pink-sneakered footprints take me next? Stay tuned!!
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