It may be a stretch to call it impossible to know where to begin telling stories from the East, but as I sit here recounting everything that’s happened over the past two weeks, it certainly feels that way. While this journey sadly does have an end, from the drive and the scenery to the food and the accommodations, the entire adventure feels as though it never really had a beginning or a middle, it has all simply existed in a bubble of contentment. Maybe it’s the fatigue that comes from so many hours in the car talking, singing, listening to Harry Potter, laughing, and taking it all in, but this has felt like one of those rare vacations — a word I’m not even convinced adequately captures the experience — where I have absolutely nothing bad to say.

I checked every box on my list, tasted everything I wanted to taste, saw the sights I’d hoped to see, and, best of all, experienced it all alongside my family. As grateful as I am to have been able to embark on a journey like this at 45, watching the girls explore the world with such curiosity and joy has made me even more thankful. They’re at the perfect age for an adventure like this — old enough to appreciate it, young enough to be endlessly amazed by it — and seeing the trip through their eyes has made every kilometre, provincial crossing and ‘car-gument’ worthwhile.

If I were pressed to list the highlights of this whole experience, I’d genuinely struggle to decide what belongs at the top. There isn’t one meal, one place, or one moment that wears the crown. I loved witnessing the incredible tides of Fundy, wandering among the Flowerpot Rocks at Hopewell, and walking the shores of Cavendish. I’ll never forget eating lobster in Alma, enjoying fresh scones in French River, or sipping craft beer in St. Andrews – each moment, in its own right, is worthy of mention.

I’ll hold onto the memory of the sun rising and setting from our porch in PEI. I’ll cherish the laughter and wonder that came with Magnetic Hill, and I’ll never forget—nor likely ever be able to recreate—the smile on my face when the captain of our whale-watching cruise asked my daughters if they’d like to drive the boat and gave them each their own captain’s hat. I’m equally grateful for the quieter moments too: tossing a Frisbee, building sandcastles, and searching the beach for little treasures. Every evening, I looked forward to sinking into the couch cushions with that satisfying kind of exhaustion and watching an episode of The Amazing Race Canada, recognizing many of the same places we’d explored earlier that day.

At every opportunity we swam in waterfalls, oceans and pools – even if we weren’t prepared we seized the opportunity to explore the beauty of the waves.  No swim suit?  No problem; clothes dry in time but this opportunity is fleeting.  That seemed to be the general mentality we embraced, knowing we likely won’t be back in this lifetime, at least not Alison and I.  If something presents itself as an opportunity you can’t get back, then why not let go and do it.  That’s the beauty we found in a trip like this, where there is so much to do but, really, the destinations you seek are actually about slowing down to appreciate them.  Yes it’s busy, but only in the sense that you need to invest the time and energy to get somewhere – after that, the only responsibility you have is to enjoy it.  Take your time walking the trails, visiting the shops or eating your next meal.  Adventure happens at a pace I’m not used to back home.  Stumble across a nice looking patio?  Grab a drink!  Discover a haunted house?  Get your tickets!  In the mood for some whale watching?  All aboard!

While I’m in no rush to return to whale-infested waters, I’m proud to say that over the course of two weeks I faced my fears and survived. I’m equally proud—perhaps even more so—to say that I didn’t let work interfere with either my time or my purpose for taking this trip. With any luck, the appreciation I’ve gained for disconnecting will stay with me long after I’ve returned home to Ontario and once again find myself sitting at my desk in front of an inbox full of emails. I’m not so naïve as to believe every day back home can feel like these past two weeks, but I do hope this experience has permanently shifted my perspective. If nothing else, it has been a solid reminder that work will always be there, but opportunities like this and the memories they create are far more fleeting.

I suppose that’s what has made this trip so special. It has never been about one destination, one meal, or one unforgettable experience. It’s been about the collection of them all— the conversations between stops, the laughter in the car, the shared discoveries, and the memories we’ve created together. Those are the things that will stay with me long after we’ve returned to our ‘regular’ daily life.