Across Continents

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Winding roads

It was a terrible guess. German I’d said. No. Was I warm, I’d asked. Yes, she replied. But this really wasn’t the case at all. She was Iranian. Now a Canadian citizen. Explained I’d love to visit her nation of birth, but it’d have to wait until regime change. One sympathetic to the West. Huge reserves of natural gas apparently.

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I’d pulled off the highway a little earlier, soon following Marine Drive through pretty leafy neighbourhoods. Gently winding along the coast towards Vancouver. Smart condos, well-kept gardens. An expensive looking Japanese restaurant. Gentle inclines a welcome change to the tougher gradients I’d encountered on my way south that day. And the rain had finally stopped.

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A quick phone call to my hosts to let them know I was definitely on my way. And then a brief stop at a convenience store, chance encounter with the Iranian woman behind the counter. Quick re-fuel before final push into the city. Soon be sunset.

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