20 years ago today - Less than a week to go....

20 years ago today – Author’s preface, part 2

Feb 26, 1991: Toronto in winter. It’s the perfect time of year somewhere far away from here.

I can still walk home through the chaos of a winter storm – the streetcars not running on Dundas St because of downed wires, -12 C (+6F), wind and the icy sting of blowing snow. My head is on what is happening around me, but my heart is already in Lisbon.

Plodding slow steady progress along icy sidewalks and the Dundas St Viaduct over the Don River the magic around me begins to grow. There is strength beyond vulnerability, joy beyond fatigue.

Last week, when the weather was finer, I saw two women with luggage in tow, heading out in the morning with all the other commuters. But is was obvious on their faces, when compared to the grey, resolute appearance of the others they passed, that this was no ordinary day for them. Of course not. They were not going to work—they were about to start a journey, an adventure that they would never forget. Just knowing this, their eyes were more keen and alert and their inner light was glowing visibly.

Is that the way it will be for me a week from now? I can never seem to remember where I was or what I was doing any certain day last month, but I can always remember the smallest details of what I was doing on any given day during my past travels. I am thinking at the moment that I am only alive when I am traveling, when my life is full.

Today my ‘aliveness’ feels like nervousness. The past month has been difficult. I have lost a third of two years of savings in the past two weeks. All the relationships around me suddenly seem strained and undependable. I am wondering if these are bad omens or simply a test of my determinations. You can stop testing now because I am leaving for sure, if only to get away from this endless winter.

But not all the news is bad. Ed Rose, my friend in Providence RI has offered to buy my 2100-piece Tiffany wisteria lamp, by far the largest and labour intensive piece of stained glass art I have ever made, for a handsome fee of $2500 US, and the owner of the restaurant Il Papagallo (The Parrot) has offered to buy my stained glass parrot for $150. Things are starting to look up.

Regardless, my ticket to Lisbon via London is paid in full and non-refundable. I have finalized my schedule of preparations, things to do each day before I leave. I am saying my goodbyes and making a list of addresses for sending postcards. I have photocopied many pages of the Spartacus Guide for gay bars, saunas and meeting places across much of Europe. I am not sure how willing Michael will be to checking them out but I am bringing them anyway.

Michael has finally purchased his ticket. He gives me the willies the way he leaves everything to the end, always waiting for a last minute bargain. This is all too important for me to take such a risk, but he has much more experience traveling and buying tickets. His family is scattered around the globe and his boyfriend lives in Washington DC.

He will arrive in Lisbon two days after I do. I wish he was on the same flight but maybe this is my chance to check out some gay nightlife while I am alone. We have finalized a meeting place and time in Lisbon at the tourist office on the Ave de Liberdade. That’s the main tourist strip with all the big hotels, but this is an off-season, still too early for spring getaways when the weather will be warmer, so it should be easy enough to spot him.

I hope nothing more goes wrong before we leave.