Some People Become Part of Your Geography · Week 40
By Luca Bonafede · October 5, 2026 ·
A lot can happen in a week.
This one started on an island and ended four provinces later, parked and waiting for the sunrise before entering my new city.
I definitely left Newfoundland with a bang, exactly the way I like it.
I wasn’t expecting so many people to come and say goodbye, at every possible hour of the day and night. You don’t always realise how many people became part of a chapter until it’s time to close it.
But time was up. And looking back, the only things I regret are the ones I didn’t do.
That is where the song of the week comes in: “Out of Touch” by Daryl Hall & John Oates (1984). The lyrics and the vibes matched exactly the feeling of leaving the island. What is done is done. The missed opportunities, whatever is gone, is gone, never to come back again. I am now out of touch and out of reach. You should have caught me while I was there, and while I cared.
And then there is April.
It was April who took me to Argentia, which means the last road I travelled in Newfoundland, I travelled with her. That feels right, because she was an important part of probably 75% of my Newfoundland Life. Take her out of the story and most of the story goes with her.
Some people become part of the geography of a place. When you remember one, you inevitably remember the other. For me, Newfoundland and April now come as a pair.
Thank you, April. For the ride, and for everything before it.
The goodbye itself was almost comically sudden. One minute I was still there, the next I was basically being pushed onto the ferry.
Then came the 16 hours overnight at sea. On board I finally met someone whose path I had crossed several times without us ever actually meeting. If you’re meant to meet, eventually you will.
I arrived in Nova Scotia, picked up my rental car and met Jason. Of course, he was from Newfoundland. I had left the island, but the island had not quite left me. He helped make the road trip even more memorable, before one night in Halifax and my first encounter with the famous Bluenose, the ship that sails on every 10-cent coin and every Nova Scotia licence plate.
Slightly underwhelmed. Then I remembered I spent years around Dutch vessels, so my standards may be unfair. To be precise, the legend itself sank in 1946, and the one I met is Bluenose II, a replica launched in 1963. Maybe the original really was overwhelming. This one is not worth the trip.
Back on the road.
New Brunswick went by in incredible autumn colours, the kind that make you slow down without being asked. And at the end of that road, Québec City: the 16th city I will call home.
Sixteen cities. Sixteen times starting from zero, with no idea what is waiting for me, which is exactly how I like it.
I could have arrived that night, but I remembered one of my many rules: never arrive in your new city at night. A new home deserves to be seen in daylight the first time.
So I stopped. Slowed down. Took a nap. And waited for the sunrise.
Within hours, I was being assessed at French school, something I’m genuinely proud of, and somehow scored a last-minute bib for another half marathon.
2,000+ km. Four provinces. 16 hours across the Atlantic. A new language. Another half marathon. One chapter closed. Another one already moving.
Maybe some chapters don’t end the moment you turn the page. We’re constantly evolving. An object in motion stays in motion.
A lot can happen in a week.
Thank you, and ciao for now.
Luca Bonafede
St.John's, Argentia, NL, Canada 🇨🇦
North Sydney, Halifax, Lunenburg, NS, Canada 🇨🇦
Grand Falls, NB, Canada 🇨🇦
Quebéc City, QC, Canada 🇨🇦
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