The day I saw my mom off at the airport in Portland, Maine, my adventure took a turn for the worst. I suddenly felt like a lonely and lost puppy. I realized that I hadn’t planned the rest of my trip (so I didn’t know where I was going next) and I didn’t know anybody in the eastern half of the United States (so I had no clue where I was going to stay). I had the day in Portland to figure out my next steps. A plan was what I needed. A plan was what I made. 

One thing I’ve learned on this trip that I never really got before is the value of networking. Exhausted and desperate in my motel room in Portland, I put out a generic plea for help, and my friends came to my rescue! Over the course of the day, I had both my route and my next few days’ accommodations figured out. Before I could set my plan in action, I had an observation shift with a doctor in Portland who does a lot of acupuncture with her patients. It was an amazing day—I saw lots of patients (all of whom received acupuncture) and then got to receive a treatment myself during lunch! I sure must have been exhausted because I fell asleep and woke myself up snoring in the community acupuncture room, which was full. How embarrassing! Sleeping on the job… Not very good, Erica! I realized that I have probably been pushing myself pretty hard on this journey of mine and that some serious self-care is in order when I get back to my home coast. I also realized that I do not want to practice acupuncture, as much as I love it. I couldn't help noticing that having acupuncture as a tool in a doctor's tool belt means that you use it a lot, often at the expense of all the other tools. It's the other tools that most interest me, and I would never want them to go by the wayside. All in all, a really great experience and valuable lesson.

That night I stayed with some friends outside of Portland who are friends of a classmate of mine. They were awesome! They were a wonderful young couple who are soon expecting a baby. The fellow of the couple works as an EMT for the military – very interesting guy! We had intense discussion about the health care situation in the United States (always a terrifying topic for me, naïve Canadian that I am) and after letting me listen to their developing baby’s heartbeat, they put me up in their soon-to-be baby room where I slept oh-so-soundly. Zzzzzz. They also hooked me up with a relative of theirs who lives in Chicago and who, they said, “would love to show me around.” Chicago phone number in-hand, off I went to Boston!

I managed my drive to Boston without losing my nerve, and there I stayed with a fella from couchsurfing who used to play soccer for Liverpool! Since it was his day off (and since he was a super nice guy), he took me out on the town and showed me some of the Boston highlights, including Boston Common, Quincy Market, Harvard University (snobby!—I couldn’t get in to see the library. You need a Harvard ID!), and Benjamin Franklin’s grave. We walked the freedom trail and had a picnic on the waterfront. We had a drink at a bar, watched some sports, and went home. The next day I was off to Rhode Island! It all sounds so exotic, but it was really only about two hours from each place to the next.

Providence! Providence seems like a nice city – lots of old architecture, for which I usually go a little bananas.  I toured the old town, ventured around Brown University, and then headed out to road trip down to Newport for some beach action. Newport seems like a pretty nice little summer spot. Being there made me feel extremely poor. I felt like I was swimming in a pond that was way too big for me. Economic status is something that has been very much on my mind since being on the east coast, since there just seems to be so much money over here! And to make it worse, there are the tolls!

Canadians—a thing I didn’t know about the USA that might be good to know if any of you are thinking of road tripping is that the States really love their tolls! There are so many tollbooths! Also, most bridges have a toll. Everywhere you go, it’s toll, toll, toll, toll, toll! I’ve had it! If I needed a reason to go back to Canada, I think I found one. Going over one bridge took all my cash and then I asked if there were any more tollbooths because I was out of cash(!) and the man looked at me as though he was thinking, “You must be joking.” I had to go to an emergency ATM to take out more cash just for the right to drive on the freeway! Unreal! All of the tolls, all of the constant traffic and stress over here has left me with the overall impression that the east coast loves to drain me (and everyone else who is poor) of resources—mental, emotional, and financial! No thanks! Get me back to the west!

*Ahem* Back to my story…

My day in Newport was relatively good. I ventured out to a beach that was slightly lower key, and camped out there for an hour or so with my blanket and book. I combed the beach for shells, waded in the water, and soaked in some sun. Still, I felt like the shell of a person, merely pretending to enjoy life on the east coast. I certainly wasn't laughing and splashing like the kids with their families; nor was I cuddling with a lover on a blanket. Just me, by myself, in an unfamiliar place, once again. When I decided it was time to head back to the city, off I went, to meet my couchsurfing host for the evening: Anne. Anne works in publishing, has the most cozy and comfortable home in a charming part of Providence, and has the sweetest dog, Betty, who basically fell over after relaxing too heavily while I was petting her. Anne’s friendliness and enthusiasm was exactly what I needed and I went to bed feeling my spirits lifted.

The following day, I met with a doctor outside of Providence who specializes in autism spectrum disorders. I was greeted by a bright and cheery woman, whose enthusiasm and vivacity gave me the boost I so sorely needed. Her waiting room was filled with artwork her patients make—I loved that. Throughout the day I was treated to some real thick east coast accents: “Oim up Kwoffing wall noyt.” That accent is really fun! At the end of the day, she gave me the name of another doctor in Portland, Oregon who has a son with Down syndrome, has focused her practice around treating Down syndrome, and (coincidentally) has the same name as me! I left her office feeling excited and itching to get back to Portland as soon as possible to meet this woman and become her protégé!

That night, I got to stay with a school friend of mine in Rhode Island, who just got home for the rest of the summer. It was so refreshing to see a friendly face, and after a great night’s sleep, and after she set me up with her relatives’ contact info for a place to stay the next day, off I went to drive the three hours to Manchester, NH to meet a woman who works at Emerson Ecologics—one of the largest distributors of natural supplements in North America. I arrived in town early and went to meet her. I knew that our appointment was to be short in the first place, so when she was ten minutes late, I started to worry. After the receptionist did some sleuthing, she found out that the doctor I was supposed to meet had canceled our meeting earlier that morning. Since I was on the road, I would never have received the message (the fact that my "smart" phone is actually pretty dumb doesn’t help). She nevertheless came out to meet me. Being greeted by her confused and mildly irritated face made me feel so pathetic and like the world’s biggest imbecile. She agreed to meet me for 20 minutes or so over her lunch break for which I was instructed to go out and find myself some lunch and then return to eat with her. Like a fool, I ran down the street, ordered the most time-consuming item to prepare, and then ran back, my lunch in tow, in time to sit with her for a few minutes. I really wasn’t even at all hungry (my nerves being in overdrive at this point). She had recruited another doctor to join us for lunch, who ultimately offered me a lot more in the way of connection, so the meeting wasn’t a total loss. Nevertheless, I went away feeling frustrated and frankly angry that my visit was so flippantly received. It did not make me feel glad for driving three hours out of my way in the wrong direction.

That night, however, I was cheered once again, when I stayed with my friend’s aunt, uncle, and cousin. It was a funny evening. Everyone but the uncle went out, so it was him and me, drinking wine and eating dinner together while he told me about his history of diabetes. I really enjoyed our chat. When I settled in for the night, I ended up in an online chat with a fellow who I am going to be staying with in Minnesota (another friend of a friend). Even online, he was really funny and left me laughing for the first time in days. I went to sleep, filled with the sense of peace that comes from making a new friend.

On Wednesday, I had planned to meet with a doctor at the University of Bridgeport in Connecticut. We had agreed on sometime in the “late morning” and I was supposed to call him to remind him that I was on my way. While on the freeway, I did just that, and left a message that I was heading down. He called me shortly after, and this was our conversation:

“Hi Erica – are you heading to Bridgeport?”
“Yes…”
“Well, I am in Illinois!”
“Oh! Haha!! Uh…”

Turns out I got my schools mixed up, and this man doesn’t work at Bridgeport at all. I decided to check the school out anyway. I would introduce myself to whomever I could find and see what I could see and then move on to Pennsylvania later that evening.

Well, my U of Bridgeport experience was fantastic. I wandered in, unannounced, and just happened to fall into the lap of all the school’s deans who ushered me into a lecture on edible wild plants (grand rounds). I then sat in on two clinic shifts with two of the school’s favourite teachers, one of whom is the author of the “Eat Right 4 Your Blood Type” books, Dr. D’Adamo. I am very familiar with his books (and believe in his philosophy) but I had no idea I would be meeting him, let alone that he is an instructor there. He doesn’t usually take preceptors, but there I was, in his clinic, right off the street! The students at Bridgeport were so welcoming and kind, and the doctors were great! Patients will pay a lot of money to see Dr. D’Adamo (a student told me it can be about $900 or something like that). He analyzes a patient’s blood and uses physical measurements to determine a patient’s blood type and genotype. From this information, he provides the patient with a personalized, custom diet that is specific to their biological makeup. I got to sit in as the students presented such a diet to a patient. It was a pretty special experience to be privy to this moment in her life at which she got a sense of hope that she might actually be able to feel better. I left Bridgeport with the feeling that I had expanded my naturopathic community tremendously, and it was great (better than I realized) to be in contact with my peers again.

My Bridgeport experience reminded me about expectations. My expectations the previous day led to so much disappointment, unease, and frank misery. And my lack of expectations the next day led to a wonderful surprise!

I left Bridgeport and had plans to stay in Philadelphia, but after several hours of driving (me—just one of thousands of red dots on the packed freeway), and being tired and frustrated, I decided not to drive into the city just to leave it again first thing in the morning. Instead, I ventured west of Philadelphia to Ephrata, where I would be shadowing a doctor the next day (today). On my way to the clinic today, I saw a stream of horse’n’buggy traffic, reminding me that I am in Amish country! The doctor who I met today was great—he has loads of experience (unfortunately not a lot of patients today) and so we chatted for hours today about all things naturopathic. Lots of Amish people came in for their chiropractic treatments (some of them arriving in a minivan—how odd!). The good doctor gave me a road map of PA after I complained heavily about the toll roads. He took me for lunch, performed an osteopathic technique on my skull, wrists, and hips, and when I left, I felt nourished and happy.

And that brings me up to date. Tomorrow I am heading to Indianapolis, then off to Chicago on Saturday. I’ve decided to speed things up, as I am getting antsy to get home now. I have been accumulating an extensive list of things I need to get back to Portland in order to do, and I am realizing that this vacation of mine is also inevitably going to be followed by a recovery period (see: snoring in the acupuncture clinic). One guy I met referred to my trip not as a road trip but as a road tour! I think he is right. It is a whirlwind tour that is taking the wind out of me. I am so looking forward to once again having conversations with people who know me. These days, every person I meet I am meeting for the first time, and the old line, "Hi, I'm Erica!" (complete with big smiles and lots of enthusiasm) is growing repetitive. Still, I am also gaining so much (more than I have had time to realize, I think). Tonight I even saw my first-ever fireflies on a walk around Lancaster County, which was magical. 

And more to come— 

From Ontario to Nova Scotia, a lot has gone down. Here it goes:

Despite the stunning golden sunset that saw me into Toronto and my ensuing glowing sense of optimism, the overall theme of my time in Ontario was trauma.

My visit to Toronto began with a tour of the Canadian College of Naturopathic Medicine. I saw photos on the walls of many of the doctors I have encountered or would soon be encountering on my journeys, and my tour guide and I compared notes on our schools and programs. I chatted with first-year students, fourth-year students, and faculty and staff. Once upon a time, I never even considered applying at CCNM, but after hearing the lowdown over there, I could see myself making a switch (especially if the Canadian dollar continues to drop). It was great to get a sense of the birthing place for so many of the naturopathic doctors practicing in Canada and to meet many of them. Sadly, I had to cut my visit short in order to motor my way across town to meet my first Toronto ND!

Upon arrival at the doctor’s office, I was introduced to a baby bird she had rescued after it had fallen out of its nest. She had treated the bird with arnica – a homeopathic remedy specifically for physical trauma. The baby bird was recovering nicely and had already grown significantly in only a few days. It also seemed to be – as weird as it is to say so–happy! She introduced “baby bird” to every patient that day. I thought it was a little unusual to have a bird in the doctor’s office, but her patients seemed to love it! I was a little nervous about making my way back across town during rush hour so she wrote me out a handy map of the roads of least resistance that would lead me back with my sanity intact. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn, and my GPS took over, leading me right onto one of Toronto’s busiest streets – at rush hour! Cyclists darting to and fro, pedestrians walking onto the street all over the place, street cars, me sliding all over the street car tracks, and so many cars! Needless to say, when I finally arrived at my home base, I was almost in tears and needed a healthy dose of Rescue Remedy to steady my nerves!

The following day, I was back at CCNM to preceptor with a naturopathic doctor there who used to do a lot of work with HIV/AIDS. Today, he focuses on the entire spectrum of autoimmune diseases and has found that by treating the emotional trauma that often precedes these diseases, he is able to achieve the deepest healing. During my day with him, he had only one patient, which meant that we had loads of time for talking. He spoke to me at great length about homeopathy and the ways he has seen it work miracles with his patients. This doctor doesn’t usually take student preceptors but he invited me back any time, and I just may have to make my way to Toronto again (much as I don’t love the place) as I felt there is a lot I could learn from him.

The trauma that so commonly precedes disease can be physical or emotional, but I’m getting a sense that more often, it is emotional. I’m learning that it is the “emotionally traumatized” patients in whom I have the greatest interest. Counseling is a natural treatment option for these patients, but equally or even more effective is homeopathy. My interest in homeopathy was already blossoming prior to this cross-country adventure, but in the last few weeks, in my meetings with so many of the doctors I have met, I’ve been able to see (and hear about) the way it enables patients to delve into the deep emotional traumas they may have buried (either by accident or on purpose) way down inside, and I am becoming increasingly convinced that homeopathy is something worth learning well. I have met doctors who have been practicing for upwards of twenty years, and all of them are using a healthy dose of homeopathy with their patients. Why? Because, they say, when they use homeopathy with patients, traumatic experiences that have been suppressed for decades can be brought to light and processed in a healthy way, allowing patients to finally become unstuck and move forward in their lives and upwards in their health. The healing that occurs is very deep. I liked the way one doctor begins his visits with patients: “Tell me about your suffering.” Patients may or may not be able or ready to do this. The process may be slow, but homeopathy seems to help tremendously, having the capacity to dramatically change a person’s life from the inside out.

Another thing I learned in Ontario is that I do not want to live in a huge city like Toronto. I loved spending time with friends, but I find a city of that volume to be highly stressful and overwhelming, not to mention polluted and moderately hostile. It has a lot to offer in terms of opportunity, amenities, things to do, culture… but I am not sure it’s worth the downsides.

As enlightening as Toronto was, I was happy to speed away toward Kingston. I didn’t know anything about Kingston, but I have wanted to visit for some time, as I have had a gut feeling that I might really like the place. Well, it turns out my intuition was spot-on once again, as it was love at first sight! Kingston's old-world charm reminded me of Victoria, BC, which I also loved the first time I visited. In my brief time in Kingston, I toured the downtown, took a dip in Lake Ontario (so refreshing!), explored the campus of Queen’s University (Wow!!!), and had a picnic dinner by the lake. People in that town are out and about, living life and enjoying the delights of the city. It’s the sort of place a person instantly feels cozy and at home, and it’s the sort of place a person (that is, me) wants to live! People warn me against the weather, but I like snow and seasons. What's wrong with a little snow? The town is overrun with naturopathic doctors, but what's one more? 

I had to leave early the next day to make my way to Prince Edward County, just 45 minutes outside of Kingston, to spend the day with a naturopathic doctor out there who runs a bed and breakfast out of which she also has her medical practice. You could say she’s living the dream – a dream that doesn’t come without its minor nightmarish scenes, it turns out. Her day begins with cooking breakfast for her guests, followed by a few patient visits, followed by more bed and breakfast business, and possibly a brief minute of downtime – if she’s lucky. In short, she is incredibly busy, made even more busy by unforeseen circumstances such as the flood that took place the night I stayed as a guest. There she was, setting me up a bed for the night, both of us declaring how excited we were for bed, when she was startled to notice water streaming in the windows. It had rained fairly heavily during the day. So there we were, on a disaster relief mission, me mopping up water from the floor and walls, and her, venturing into the underworld beneath the deck to save the B&B from its doom! After much toil, we were victorious, and the B&B was saved! –Just a typical day in the life of a naturopathic doctor/B&B owner and manager. And to think that until recently she also owned a supplement shop! It’s exhausting just thinking about it! It's such a romantic idea, but I think it might be too much for this girl. Still, I learned so much from her, and left the county feeling that I had just gained one thousand preceptor hours’ worth of insight and knowledge, after only one day. I also feel I gained a valuable friend. On, on, on, to Montreal!  

Montreal is such a great city! I don’t know why I only spent one night there. I had made arrangements to stay with a friend but when I arrived on his doorstep around 8pm, he was nowhere to be found! I stood there, not really sure what to do with myself, when his neighbours who were on the front porch, began talking to me—in  French. They were so kind, and my French was so terrible, and after they pulled up a chair for me, let me brush my teeth in their bathroom, wrote me out detailed instructions how to take the metro (subway), and loaned me their metro pass, I bravely made my way to the Osheaga music festival, where my friend could be found. I successfully arrived at the festival as people were starting to leave, which meant I had to swim upstream against thousands of people who were drunkenly bee-lining for the metro. I had been told that I might be able to get into the festival for free after a certain time, but when I approached a staff member and asked, he directed me instead to the ticket booth and instructed me to pay my way.

Instead, I continued to “swim upstream” and pretty soon, I’d passed the gates and was inside the festival in time to see Beck! I made friends with some strangers, wrangled a beer out of one of them, and even found my friend! After the music had ended, he led me to downtown Montreal where we had drinks, ate $2 chow mein, and rode bikes to buy famous Montreal bagels at 2:30am. After a good sleep, we had a great long chat, he cooked me breakfast, made me a gigantic bag of popcorn so I wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel, loaded up my iPod with fresh music, and sent me on my way. My drive to Moncton was long (ten hours) and I didn’t leave until after 3pm, which meant I was very soon in the dark. This was the first night-driving experience of my trip so far, and after my tenth GIGANTIC, flashing-light-equipped warning sign alerting me of the huge risk of hitting a moose at night, with pupils wide, and the world out there so dark, and with a regular stream of popcorn to munch, I was wide awake and ready to swerve! The best thing that happened during that drive was that delicious popcorn and this song:

I was deeply relieved when I arrived in Moncton, having spared both my own life as well as those of the moose. 

In Moncton, I stayed with a chiropractor friend who has set up shop there. Moncton seems like a cool little town, but I didn’t feel a strong resonance there. Property sure is cheap though! A gigantic, old, well-preserved house right downtown for $185,000? Yes, please! My friend took me to work with her one day to observe an appointment with a patient. I haven’t spent much time with chiropractors, and it was interesting to see that so much more than bone crunching is involved. I’m still not sure what I think about physical medicine and if I would want to practice it or instead refer my patients to a good chiropractor. I’m leaning more toward the latter. I had my friend adjust my neck before I left, which eliminated the constant pop I’ve been experiencing every time I shoulder-check to the right. Thanks!

If I were to summarize my trip so far, some things I have learned are:

1) People are incredibly generous and kind, especially if you give them a chance to be.

2) Everyone has emotional garbage that is weighing them down. When people find ease in moving through their garbage, their mental and physical health improves.

3) Canada is enormous. And the people here are lovely. And the geography is fantastic! 

4) My French is terrible!!!

I am now in Baddeck, Cape Breton! After years and years, I finally made it up here! Growing up, my mom would often drive my brother and me to Revelstoke, BC for the holidays, and on the way, we would listen to cassettes with titles like “Sounds of Nova Scotia” filled with the Celtic music of the east coast. “My heart’s in the highland” was one of my favourite tunes. Well, here we both are, and my heart is now literally in the highlands! Tomorrow mom and I are going to be exploring the Cabot Trail and doing a bit of Highlands hiking! Maybe we’ll come across a Scottish man playing the bagpipes on a hilltop somewhere. One can only hope! 

I met up with my mom a few days ago in Halifax, where she arrived by plane. Yesterday we drove down to one of my favourite towns, Chester, Nova Scotia – a charming little affluent town on the coast. I visited Chester about ten years ago (for maybe an hour) and I remember declaring then that I would retire there! Well, before I can retire, I must work, and yesterday I assessed whether Chester would be a good place to pass my working days. If you can believe it, Chester—a town of only a few hundred people—already has a naturopathic doctor! After strolling around town and eating lunch, mom and I stopped by Peggy’s Cove and ate some delicious Nova Scotia berry ice cream (to soothe my discouraged soul?) while looking out over the Atlantic. Lovely people, and so much delicious seafood! So far, the east coast is delivering!

More to come on this great adventure. As I relax and eat lobster dinners, the preceptorship component of my trip is on pause for another week but will then continue in Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and beyond. First: holidaying in Cape Breton, PEI, and Maine! Stay tuned! 

Deeeeeep breath.

Well, here I am in Kingston, Ontario, finally with a free moment to jot down some notes from my cross-country travels so far. I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into when I left Portland, but I can say that this trip has already been amazing, and I’m only about one quarter in! I’ve been desperate to write for days now, but the constant driving, job shadowing, and chatting (with couchsurfer hosts and friends alike) has left me little time to collect my thoughts. I opted for a hotel room tonight simply to take a pause and reflect a little on what’s happened so far.

Portland, OR --> Kelowna, BC --> Edmonton, AB --> Manitou Beach, SK --> Winnipeg, MB --> Thunder Bay, ON --> Sault Ste Marie, ON --> Toronto, ON --> Kingston, ON!

First of all, this country is enormous! Days of driving and I haven’t even made my way across Canada yet. Also, it turns out a 10-hour drive followed by a day of job shadowing followed by another 10-hour drive followed by more job shadowing gets really tiring! I have been staying with friends where possible, and have been doing the couchsurfer thing when a familiar face is unavailable. I have met some amazing doctors, with all kinds of practices from the oldschool nature cure types to the more “cutting edge” shiny new practices where injections and IV therapy are all the rage. I have been shown all kinds of kindness and warm hospitality by the familiar and unfamiliar alike People have been both exceedingly generous and exceedingly supportive in my adventure. There is one experience in particular that I have wanted to write about for days now, and that is my time in magical Manitou Beach, Saskatchewan.

Magical Manitou Beach

Before I left Kelowna, I was treated to a visit by my aunt and uncle from Revelstoke, BC. My uncle asked me how I was planning to navigate my way across North America, to which I replied “google maps?” which was, I suppose, an unsatisfactory response. He offered to loan me his GPS, which I gratefully accepted. This GPS has been my guiding light while traversing the continent.  She has been my best friend, telling me when I need to make a U-turn, assuring me when I am on track, and helping me to arrive safely and calmly to my destinations. She allows me to get off track when I need to meander for a while, and she redirects me when I’m ready to get back on track. I’m developing a great affection for this little machine and I would be (literally) lost without her. Thanks, Uncle Albert! 

First, Edmonton. I’d had a wonderful time in Edmonton, as my couchsurfing hostess, Sara, had made me feel like one of the family. On my second night, she had all her relatives from Ontario over for dinner, and they plied me with a steak dinner and red wine and her mom drunkenly sang inappropriate songs to her teenage cousins. When they left, I had heaps of hugs and good wishes, and so the following day, when I left for Saskatchewan, I felt like I had the wings of love beneath me. Driving through the yellow canola fields of the prairies is simply beautiful and it kept my spirits bright. I stopped for lunch in Saskatoon (just long enough to be attacked by mosquitos and wasps, and for an electrical storm to commence) and then headed south toward Manitou Beach. Sunny skies before me, electrical storm brewing in my rearview mirror. Different weather in each direction; those enormous skies make me feel like maybe I could be a prairie girl after all.

Ok, here’s where the story gets good.

The thing about Saskatchewan that I never knew before is that highways there are often, in fact, dirt roads that go straight and flat for what looks like forever. Somewhere between Saskatoon and Regina, I was guided off of the paved highway to branch onto one of these so-called “highways.” Previously one of few cars on the paved highway, I was now the only car on the dirt road highway. I discovered that this particular highway was brimming with amazing photo opportunities, so I stopped every few hundred meters or so to take a photo or some bird or tree, and I was absolutely delighted to be in the middle of who-knows-where, surrounded by what I felt was a hidden gem in the heart of Canada. After turning from dirt road “highway” to dirt road “highway,” (and having really no idea if my GPS was trustworthy at this point) I suddenly came upon one of the neatest come-upon-ings to date: thousands of dragonflies suddenly zooming and darting all around my car. There were so many dragonflies that I had to roll up my windows for fear that they would overwhelm me. It was pure magic. I sat in my car, expressing my amazement to myself, in awe of this secret dragonfly gathering and then carefully carried on my way. My GPS, at this point, was showing that the road ahead led directly through a large body of water, which looked strange to me on her digital screen: a line of purple through a body of blue. However, she had been fairly trustworthy so far, so I continued as directed. The flatness of the road made what lay ahead impossible to see. I rounded a slight curve, and lo and behold! My road through the body of water was, in fact, a road partially submerged in the body of water. Huge signs declaring "ROAD CLOSED" filled me with panic and caused me to carefully U-turn myself around and inch away in fear. I had an overwhelming sense that I had had a near brush with death! My GPS hounded at me "Do a U-turn! Do a U-TURN!!!" and I was appalled that this machine I so dearly trusted was encouraging me to drive straight into the lake! I impulsively turned down some random road that headed I knew not where. Any road would be better than one that led to the bottom of a lake!

Fortunately, the road I chose (combined with my GPS’s recalculation) led me around the lake and into Manitou Beach. My experience so far in arriving at this place had been nothing short of bizarre, so I felt even stranger as the road that led me into town was exactly on level with the surface of the lake. I had already seen one road go under. What would happen if my sojourn at Manitou Beach saw a few inches of rain? Would I be able to get out? Would it be like the town in Tim Burton's "Big Fish" from which one can never leave? 

I eventually found my destination, which I had previously known very little about except that a naturopathic doctor from my school had purchased a property that she was planning to turn into some sort of clinic, and I was going to see exactly what she was up to. I drove into driveway that had “Harmony House” painted on a sign, and headed for the door marked “Office.” When I walked in, it was like stepping back in time. It was a great room filled with beautiful antique furniture including about ten wooden tables complete with place settings as though dozens of guests would show up at any moment. The room was decked out in Victorian décor from floor to ceiling. Floral prints, lace, rich dark wood, and ornaments dating back to the last century adorned the room. I stood at the door, taking it in when a head popped into view through a window into the adjacent old-fashioned kitchen, and a kind looking woman said, “You must be Erica!”

She introduced herself as Lydia, and explained that the building had previously been a YMCA girls’ camp, and then a B&B. She had owned the property before Dr. Czeranko purchased it, and she now lived there despite no longer being the owner. I felt like I had wandered into one of the most amazing places I’d ever been. She told me that Dr. Czeranko had gone down to the lake for a swim, but to make myself comfortable, which I did. I sat there on the antique sofa dressed with beautiful quilts and felt like I had wandered into a place out of time. There was a bookshelf loaded with books on spirituality, meditation, healing, and the like, and this confirmed my sense that this place was good for the soul.

When Dr. Czeranko arrived, she greeted me warmly, showed me to my room (amazing, perfectly decorated Victorian-styled room, with its own ensuite bathroom), and then we talked. She explained to me that she had purchased this property because she had been smitten with the town after visiting and experiencing its amazing healing waters. Her plan is to eventually turn the old B&B into a healing retreat center where doctors and patients alike can come to learn about and experience the power of balneotherapy. The mineral-rich sea water and magical energy of the tiny town make Manitou Beach a perfect place to set up a healing retreat.

After learning all of this, my tiredness must have shown, for Dr. Czeranko directed me to the town’s salt lake to take a refreshing swim, and informed me that that evening we would be going to “Danceland.” Danceland, I was told, was all the rage. Everyone in town would be there, and I had no choice but to go. (As if I would turn down such an opportunity!) First, though, a swim to revive me.

Although now a small and quiet place with the tranquility of a ghost town, Manitou Beach was once a vibrant and bustling place. Earlier in the twentieth century, the train used to pass through town and bring visitors by the thousands who would fill Danceland to the gills, dancing and partying all night long before heading back to their respective homes in other towns. Guests would stay in the hotel at night, soak in the therapeutic waters by day, and dance and drink into the wee hours of the morning. Since the railroad has dwindled, the town has shrunk down to a mere 200 people, now left with the feeling of a town forgotten, or fallen out of time.

I took myself the few steps down to the beach and plunged into the water. I had never been swimming in a salt lake before, and I was delighted at how buoyant I was! I effortlessly bobbed along the surface of the refreshing lake and felt the life force filling me once again after the day’s journey. Once refreshed, I walked back to the house, was treated to a delicious meal (and wine) on the deck with a view of the lake, and then I dressed to go dancing at Danceland.

Once one of the hottest spots in the province, Danceland, it turns out, is this perfect little dance hall that still hosts dances and live music a few nights per week. Tuesday night is the Toonie dance from 8-9pm. The ladies and I walked along the water’s edge to Danceland and when we walked in, I discovered a large wooden dance floor (apparently built upon a bed of horse hair – for extra bounce) surrounded by chairs and tables. The floor was packed with dancers (where did all these people come from?), and on a stage at one end of the hall were two elderly ladies playing old-time hits on a keyboard and accordion. Disappointingly, none of the older gentlemen asked me to dance, but the ladies and I met some gals from Alberta, who were both very sweet, and Dr. Czeranko invited them to go swimming with us the following morning at 8am, for “hardening.”

Hardening is a nature cure practice in which you begin the day by taking a plunge into cold water with the aim of toughening the body’s defenses. The cold water forces the circulatory system to move, which boosts the immune system. Dr. Czeranko had already told me she would be waking me up early the next day to go “harden” in the lake. I was looking forward to it!

The next day and following evening were filled with swimming, soaking in the sun, eating wholesome and delicious meals (prepared by amazing chef Lydia,) and hours of wonderful and inspiring conversation with Dr. Czeranko and Lydia about all things naturopathic. Spending a few days with these ladies in this place was an amazing opportunity that I feel so blessed to have had. Lydia practices biofeedback (a diagnostic and treatment modality), and I was able to observe a biofeedback treatment session and then ask her lots of questions about it afterward. Dr. Czeranko shared her wisdom with me (hours on such topics as the future of the medicine and starting a practice) and provided me with a list of doctors to contact in the eastern part of Canada, all of whom she knows well. My time in Manitou didn’t give me any job shadowing opportunity per se. It gave me a whole lot more.

The day I left, I began my day with a swim in the salt lake (of course), an hour of raspberry picking, healthy breakfast, and a final Manitou chat with Dr. Czeranko, and when I left for Winnipeg, I felt like the wings of love that had carried me so far had now doubled in strength. As I drove away from that little gem of a town, I felt that I had just experienced a dose of the magic that exists in this world, and I was filled with a sense that no matter what, I was on my way to becoming the best doctor I could hope to be if for no other reason than I had some amazing people backing me. 

Several towns, experiences, and a week later, I am now in Kingston, Ontario, which is the first place I have been to that strikes me as a town I could potentially call home. I have only been in this town for a few hours, but already I am in love with the town’s old-world charm, and I feel a sense of urgency that I have to move here before all the other doctors discover it and take over! More to say on this and so many other topics, but it’s time for bed, as I am heading out of town tomorrow morning to preceptor with yet another potentially amazing doctor. I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me around the next corner, and I will do my best to share the next segment of this adventure. Goodnight!