You can't go home again. Or can you? Final leg of our journey home. The train is late in arriving at the station in Winnipeg - not unusual - and we get talking to a soft-spoken man who is moving home to the Gaspé after an absence of forty-two years. He's retired now and just made up his mind. Didn't even tell most of his mates. Speaks affectionately of a woman he knows who has sent him birthday and Christmas cards through the years. Just a friend or is he hoping for more? He's not from Winnipeg. Thompson maybe? Spent the afternoon at Polo Park Mall where friends were supposed to meet him but they never showed up. You can only drink so many cups of coffee. And what will the Gaspé hold for him after the decades? He's injured himself and is walking with a cane so they pre-board him when the train comes in and we don't see him again. One unfinished story from tonight's train.
The train, due at five in the morning gets in about 8:30. Final blog until we resume our roaming life.
