I met a man who lives in Prescott and works for the carnival. Gaura, the driver, decided to pull over the van for a catch-up nap. We were in Morrisburg, along the St. Lawrence River, when I met this friendly man who used to play the role of a clown in circuses and carnivals.
"Do you know what's the difference between a circus and a carnival?" he asked.
"In the circus they keep the animals in the cages. In the carnival, they run the rides," he said with a chuckle. He then got curious. "Are you a Hare Krishna monk?"
"Yes, I am. You know about us?"
"All religious folks are good. You just have to watch out for the gypsies. I'm a gypsy." Another chuckle.
One of those gorgeous Loons was playing close to the river's shore where we were as we kept talking. I couldn't help noticing him.
"As a carnival man, do you do this seasonally—in the summer?"
"No, we go to Florida in the winter, and do the circuit there. It's pretty much year-round." We made friends. He made his brief stop-over like Gaura and I did in this piece of paradise along the river. It's a privilege to break up your travel with a snack perhaps, a nap and a stroll by a river.
As Gaura and I reconvened our journey toward Montreal, we had some good chats. The word ‘Gypsy’ came up again. That is essentially my lifestyle, one of a gypsy, a good one I hope, at least a nomad.