Farewell

Well, the day had finally arrived from Scrib and I.

Fernweh and Aids had decided to prematurely leave the group, having spontaneously headed out a few days prior. Scrib and I had decided to wait until the planned date: May first.

Having spent the last of however many thousands of dollars we`d spent (save the money for our ferry) we were freshly broke, hungover, and curious to remember what broken life was like. We traunched towards the ferry terminal.

Having misread the time, I had to dodge the curse words as they flew from Scrib`s mouth like profane missiles. He was convinced that we were going to miss the ferry, and wasn`t afraid to make sure the population of the parking lot knew that. 

We made it, though, with six minutes to spare. We boarded and headed straight to the upper deck as the ferry departed, separating us at last from the shours of our Island. We waved goodbye to Nanaimo, with its sparkling harbour and rundown buildings, then turned aruond to face Vancouver as we closed the distance between us.  

The mainland promised us infinite adventures and endless insanity; though, it seemed already that we missed the island. It was as if we were parting with our family... but as sure as we missed it, we were sure that the day we returned would be an amazing reunion.  The thought filled us with comfort as we leaned back into our seats, serenaded by the soft soothing song of an accordion being played by some old Scottish dude.

It was the perfect song to signify the start of a journey.