A Quiet Longing for Connection — Percé, Quebec
- Aug 5
- 3 min read
Dear Diary, it is Monday, July 27, 8:35 a.m. Location: a small motel near Percé, Quebec.
This time, I don’t need a break in the same way I did two weeks ago. I am taking this break more as maintenance. :) I am trying to make sure I do not burn myself out.
I am not sure if taking a break in Quebec is ideal. I entered Quebec two and a half weeks ago, and right away, it felt as though I had entered a different country. The lack of French on my end created a bubble around me, bringing forward an emotion I had not experienced in quite a while…Loneliness.
While I cherish my solitude, especially in nature where I feel I belong to myself the most, and the universe, I am a creature who thrives on human connection.
My solitude is often chosen, and within it, I still connect with people, places, and the journey itself. But when language separates me from the people around me, my solitude begins to feel less chosen.
I know I am loved. I can feel it wholeheartedly. However, I deeply miss my boys and my dear friends. I am thirsty for the simple act of a hug.
I am always amazed by the power of typing my deepest feelings on my keyboard. It feels like a conversation between me, myself, and I. That’s already a community. :)
Society portrays loneliness as a shameful feeling, even though it is a basic emotion most of us will experience in our lifetime.
Loneliness is not simply the absence of people. I know from my marriage that you can live in the same house with another person and still feel terribly lonely. It is the absence of connection—of feeling seen, understood, and held.
Nature gives me a beautiful sense of belonging—to myself and to the universe—but I am still human, and I still need human connection.
We are all wired for connection.
I remind myself that tomorrow is a new day, that life experience is impermanent. Like a wave crashing to the shore. It comes and goes.
Two days ago…
I continue my route along the Gaspé Peninsula—Gaspésie. Only an hour and a half from Forillon National Park. A giant rock is the main focus of my visit. Many decades ago, while scrolling for ideas for vacation, I stumbled upon a picture of Percé Rock. Back then it seemed so far away that I totally forgot about it. When I put together my travel map and realized that I would have the chance to see it with my own eyes, I got excited.
Tomorrow I will go and check it out. For now, I found a spot to park for tonight at a small patch of dirt twenty minutes away.
There are already two vans parked next to me, so I approach to say hi, with a silent wish they speak English.
Lise, Francine and Pepino are from Quebec. Lise is traveling on her own, and just met Francine and Pepino. I am very grateful they work hard to keep the conversation in English. Lise, who just visited Percé Rock, is giving me all the information I need and highly recommends that I take the first boat to Île Bonaventure.
In the past, you could visit Percé Rock. Today, you can get closer to it by boat on the way to Île Bonaventure Island.
It is a massive rock, which is long and narrow, and a home to many birds. After half-circling the rock, the boat continues to Île Bonaventure to give a view from the sea into the island. Oh wow, I don’t think I have seen so many birds before.
Île Bonaventure is home to more than 200 recorded species of birds. However, during the summer, the stars of the island are the Northern gannets, returning in enormous numbers to nest along the cliffs.
There are a few hikes on the island. I take the one that goes around the island, where I can watch the Northern gannet colony up close.
By the sound in the air and the strong smell, I know I am getting closer. Unbelievable! What an exciting experience! What a beautiful bird! I take my time watching them care for their babies, who are about five weeks old.
Northern gannets are large seabirds with white feathers, golden-yellow heads, and black-tipped wings. They are remarkable hunters, folding their wings and plunging headfirst into the ocean to catch fish. They return to Île Bonaventure each summer to mate, lay a single egg, and raise their chick.
After a full day on the island, I find my little motel—a place to do nothing and write…
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