This morning, Catherine joined Marc-André to form a super duet. Their voices intertwine in unison with a guitar and a ukulele to wake the sleeping camp up. The feeling from soft music approaching and gently taking us out of sleep is completely amazing…
The night was a little cooler than yesterday, but much less humid. Let’s say that we kept our arms inside the sleeping bags. As usual, in the morning, everybody packs his belongings and dismantled the dome. The schedule is organized to well prepare the return, breakfast time was briefer, but no less enjoyable. We somewhat feel the end approaching, but nobody seems to care about it. Everyone is happy, everyone benefits from the last moments in his own way.
To determine the winners of the Poisson blanc Cup, Catherine and Marc-André divide the teams. Young people will form the Rainbow Sausage team and the so-called grown ups, the Grumpy Pickles team. Pressure is at its maximum. Adversity gets the best of friendly relations woven during the stay. Each team lines up on the starting line to compete in a sprint at all times. Pow! The race is on. All shots are allowed. The paddles are sharpened and ready to slice. After a hard-fought start and difficultly guarded advance, the Grumpy Pickles managed to cross the finish line a few centimetres ahead of the Rainbow Sausages. Despite the significant burden of this defeat, the youths nonetheless accepted their loss and participate in putting away all the equipment and in placing the Voyageur canoes away.
Back at the inn, everyone returned the borrowed equipment and went for a shower. I have a feeling that it was welcomed… Once clean, everyone gathered in the lounge to play cards, as old friends always do. Definitely, these expeditions reveal something magical. To me, it is humanity in its simplest form. A group that seems so different from at the start, but that, in so little time, allows similarities emerge. I dare use the metaphor that Antoine used yesterday to express his perspective of the group. It goes like this: “The group reminds me a bouquet of flowers. At first the group is together, but soon it reveals itself, to speak as it is. Once in the water, the flowers begin to emerge and soon after, the bouquet is turning heads with its splendour… and all its colours.” I think the flowers that have opened in this Poisson blanc expedition… will never fade.