Autumn in London and Oktoberfest

After arriving back to London from Switzerland, it was head down with work and house hunting.

Work-wise, I got settled in to my job at Law Firm, a huge law firm in the city.

House-wise, I was excited to decide to find a place with my friends J and A. We ended up finding large apartment on Clapham Road, in a really cool and happening part of South London. Possibly not the most original choice for a bunch of Aussies (because Clapham is full of Australians) but very exciting nevertheless!

In terms of travel, things have slowed down a bit as I concentrated on work and house hunting, but I still managed a long weekend away to Oktoberfest in Germany.

Some friends and I headed to Gatwick airport on the first Friday afternoon in October and boarded a flight to Salzburg in Austria.

At Salzburg we were picked up by the Alpenrider team and taken to a small Austrian town in the mountains. This would be our home for the long weekend, in the Alpenrider chalet. This was a chalet owned and run by an Aussie and his Austrian wife, with a seasonal crew of young Aussie backpackers. The first night was spent by settling in with the aid of a few beers. We were also issued with our Mission Oktoberfest uniforms, consisting of t-shirts and dog tags.

Sue and I had travelled with V, a friend of my friend Jen from previous travel adventures. We also met up with Jen's friend Charlotte and her friend Teresa. Together we were 2 Aussies, 2 Kiwis and 2 Canadians. The next morning we got up while it was still dark, had breakfast and boarded a bus with the rest of the guests and crew and bussed it over the German border into Munich in time for 9am for the beer festivities to start.

Oktoberfest was everything I expected it to be, and more. Basically it is a site in Munich dedicated to the beer festival, with lots of giant beer tents which are put up every year. Giant tent is a bit of an understatement. They are massive beer halls made from metal, wood and canvas, not some mere garden marquee. Surrounding the tents is a huge festival site full of various rides, stalls and other entertainment. Surprisingly, it actually is good to go on a rollercoaster with multiple loops after drinking beer all day. I guess the rides also keep the kids entertained whilst their parents are drinking beer inside.

The party was already well under way at 9:30 am and the beer tents filling up quickly. Luckilly our group had managed to get some tables thanks to some good organisation by the Chevy, the Alpenrider owner. The day involved sitting at the table and drinking 1 litre glasses of specially brewed beer. Then standing on the seats and doing the same, and eventually standing and dancing on the tables doing the same. It sounds crazy but you just get taken with the atmosphere of it all, whilst watching the live folky German brass band play.

The best thing is the locals, instead of getting fed up with the hordes of drunk Aussies, just embrace the visitors and party with them happily.

We were kicked out of our beer tent at 4:30pm and went on the rides and continued drinking at some of the outside bars. At night fall our coach took us back over the border to Austria and our Alpenrider sanctuary.

Next day: repeat. Back to Munich to start at 9am at another beer tent. This was a bit of a struggle after the beer drinking of the day before, but by midday the beer was once again going down very well. This time we weren't kicked out of our tent, and the day got quite messy, and the drinking continued all the way back to the chalet back in Austria.

So, how do you refresh yourself from a drunken daze and re-enter the world of sobriety after 2 days of drinking litres of beer, one after another? Simple: you jump off a cliff into a canyon, into almost freezing water. The highlight of the last day of the trip was the canyoning activity. Stepping off a 7 meter cliff into dark cold water is scary. The canyoning also involved jumping down waterfalls, abseiling, swimming, climbing and sliding down the river all to navigate through a canyon. It was an adventure and a perfect way to wake back up to life after a drunken daze. That night, on the flight back to London (which we almost missed - who would have thought alpine Austria had traffic jams?) we had a few more drinks and all slept very well upon returning to our London beds.

Summer in England, Switzerland, France and Liechtenstein

LIFE IN LONDON

Went to Ascot Racecourse for another race meeting, and saw Belinda Carlisle and Bananarama perform while it poured with rain.

M and I Went to see the Waifs play a gig here in London. As you can imagine, the crowd (mainly consisting of Aussies) was pretty excited when they played London Still.

Also went to a Regurgitator gig. They are one of my favourite Aussie bands, so I was very excited when I found out they were playing London. It was a really small gig, at a university bar, so we got to get right close up to the band. They only had a basic set up, so not much in terms of sound or visual effects like they often have, but the set was great. They played many songs from their best album, Unit (including I like your old stuff better than your new stuff,Modern Life, Black Bugs, Everyday Formula, !, I will lick your asshole and Polyester Girl).

Celebrated my first birthday in London by having a night of cocktails in a bar in Balham. Of course you don’t really need an excuse for this sort of activity in London. There have been many nights out with various people. London: it’s always very social.

TRAVEL

On one of the hottest days of the year, M and I went on a daytrip to Brighton. The amount of people going from London to Brighton that Sunday was ridiculous. Standing room only on the long distance train. Then from the train station in Brighton down the main street to the beach was all a big crowd walking in one direction. The beach was so crowded it was almost tricky to find a space to lay down 2 towels. But the worst of it was that the beach didn’t have sand, but big round pebbles. They weren’t bad to lie on, but the moment you tried walking on them,agony! Nevertheless, it was nice to get down to the beach.

The same weekend, M and I also went, along with a couple of friends, to Chessington World of Adventure in Surrey. It is a theme park, and, although not as good as the big ones on the Gold Coast, was still good fun and had some pretty wicked rides.

TRIP TO SWITZERLAND AND AREA

My first bit of major travel in Europe this time around, apart from the weekend trip to Berlin, happened in late August. I planned the trip with my favourite travel partner, Jen. She is a Canadian girl who I met when I was last living in London, and had travelled with her to Belgium, Germany and France. She is quite a jetsetter, and at the moment is living in a little town in the French countryside, right near the Swiss border, near the city of Geneva. She was nannying for a British/Kiwi family and invited me over to her part of Europe to do some travelling.

I made an early morning trip to Gatwick airport to fly into Geneva, Switzerland. I spent the day looking around the city, which is built on the banks of a bay within a massive lake. It was a warm day so when I was tired from walking around looking at all the old buildings, I went on a boat cruise around the lake, taking in the amazing scenery around the banks, of chalets, green forests, mountains and amazing blue water. Watching the lakeside inspired me to go to one of the beaches afterwards and laze around the beach for the rest of the afternoon. Though I wasn’t brave enough to get right in the water, it was too cold!

Jen’s friend Charlotte came to meet me in the evening and show me a little bit of the city at night. We picked up Jen who had just returned to Geneva from yet another trip, and then headed over the French border to Jen’s little village.

She lived in an old massive house with her family, with a huge garden and even a swimming pool. I hadn’t seen this sort of luxury in a long time, certainly not in London! We all sat around and drank some €2 French wine, a perfect end to a European evening.

The next day Jen and I set off on our Swiss journey. We walked to Switzerland (about a 20 min walk to the border) and caught a train into Geneva.

From there, we weren’t really sure where we wanted to go, so we just boarded a train that headed into the middle of Switzerland and got off in the city of Bern.

We spent 3 hours sightseeing in Bern, a really nice old city set on a sharp bend of a bright blue glacial river. It was seriously picturesque! So much so that I filled a whole Facebook album with just Bern (see album Swiss Adventures Pt 2: Three Hours in Bern)

Bern’s city symbol is a bear, and there are bear flags and logos everywhere, and the city even has its own bear enclosure, where you can throw fruit to the bears. Though my favourite part of the town was probably the rose garden at the top of a cliff overlooking the winding valley with the city in the middle.

Once we were exhausted from sightseeing, we bought a Swiss lunch from a supermarket (Swiss cheeses; warm, fresh-from-the-oven baguette and of course Swiss chocolate) to take onto the train and headed further into the centre of the country towards Interlaken.

Interlaken seemed to be Switzerland’s tourist capital. Rightly so, though. In Winter there would be a lot of skiing done on the many mountains surrounding the town. We were there in summer and it had plenty of summer activities to offer, from swimming/boating/kayaking in the lakes (Interlaken, meaning between the lakes, is, as you can imagine between two massive glacial lakes), cycling, Nordic walking in the hills, or going up to the mountain tops to check out the glacier.

We stayed in a small hostel room with some more Canadians, our window overlooking a torrent of bright blue water down the heavily flowing river running past the hostel, with a cliff leading up the mountain on the other bank.

We spent a few days in Interlaken and had a great time. We got around mainly on hired bikes. It was perfect riding around the green countryside during the warm summer days. We went swimming in the lake (water was almost unbearably cold, I thought), and also had a go at kayaking. Being in the middle of a huge bright blue lake surrounded by snowy mountain tops had a real relaxed, tranquil feel about it.

We also ventured up into the mountains, where we walked through the mist of clouds, caught trains and cable cars up and down steep cliffs and ate warm snacks in Chalets to keep warm.

Once we were ready to depart Interlaken, we decided to do so by boat. We went to the port on the Lake facing away from Geneva and caught a ferry to the other side. We ended up in a small country town and jumped on a train, changing a couple of times before we ended up in the city of Luzern.

By this time the night had fallen. We found a hostel, ventured out for food (I had a kebab-in-a-box) and crashed. The next day we explored Luzern, yet another beautiful old riverside city. We spent the day exploring before getting on a train again and heading for the Western border of Switzerland, bound for Liechtenstein – Jen and I wanted to tick another country off the list! No trains went to the small kingdom, so we had to catch a few different trains and a bus to get there, but eventually ended up in Vaduz, the capital. We had a look around bit didn’t find it particularly interesting, and when Jen decided to start destroying the Prince’s property (she broke the fence leading up to the castle trying to jump over it), we decided it was time to leave the country!!

We wanted to stay that night at a Swiss farm, sleeping on the hay in the barn. We called a few farms which Jen found in the listings for this type of accommodation, but when we tried to ring them to get in touch, our German didn’t get us much past “Gutten tag.” So we gave up and caught the train through the mountains in the South of the Country, as we looked in guide books for a hostel that sounded like it could put us up.

At night fall we ended up in a tiny country town in the middle of nowhere called Ilanz. The hostel was in fact some sort of hostel / guesthouse / hotel hybrid, and our room, which was otherwise lovely (with comfy fat feather doonas), was shared with an old man that smelled like an Anticol lozenge and wore nothing but his Y-fronts.

So instead we spent our evening in the restaurant and bar, which was all very nice, and much to Jen’s satisfaction, a unit of uniformed Swiss soldiers.

The next day we headed on, on the train again, through lots and lots of mountain scenery, until we ended up in the mountain resort of Zermatt, near the Italian border.

By winter, Zermatt is clearly a busy ski resort, but even though it was summer, it was still quite full of tourists. We went out on the town and the next day took a train up to the famous Matterhorn mountain. Unfortunately it was surrounded by clouds, so even though we were right next to the snowy peak, we could only see it through glimpses between the thick white fog. Nevertheless, we really felt on top of Europe up so high in the Alps.

After Zermatt, Jen and I headed back through the mountains toward lake Geneva, and back into French speaking territory (most of our trip was spent in German-speaking Switzerland). We ended up going to the small city of Nyon where we went out with Charlotte and her and Jen’s various nanny friends. The next day it was back in the Jen’s town French of Chalex in the back yard around the pool (and a random swim in a flooded quarry) before the imminent return to cloudy London.

Berlin

When I told my mum I was planning on going to Berlin, she said "Why?!?"

As a person stuck on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain for the majority of her life, she had visited East Germany a few times and didn't find it to be a particularly nice place.

I am happy to report, however, that since the fall of Communism and the reunification of East and West Germany, Berlin is a brilliant, lively place, with a stack of fascinating history behind it.

I have been to Germany three times before on short trips (Munich, Dresden and the Rhine Valley). Each time I really loved it, and I have always heard many good things about Berlin, so I wanted to check it out. I found a package 3-day trip out of London which included a flight, transfers, hotel and tour, from a tour company I'd used before and enjoyed so I decided to give it a go. My Aussie friend M, who has also moved to London recently, agreed to come along for the ride.

The holiday was interesting from the start. It started at 5am on a Friday morning, when M and I caught a taxi to Stansted airport. Stansted is one of London's five airports, and is one of the most remote ones, and services the budget airlines around Europe. We pulled into the airport twenty minutes early from the designated meeting time with the rest of the group; and as I we were about to get out of the taxi, I decided to make some conversation:

"So, got your passport?" I asked.

"Uh..." she slowly answered, "no!"

"What do you MEAN, no?"

"I don't have it. It's at home!"

And so started the frantic emergency effort to somehow get the passport in time for check-in.

I'd often seen people do this on the TV show Airport, but never thought we'd be in the same situation. Luckily, M's an organised personal assistant, and before I even realised what was going on, she had another taxi driver on her way to the airport with her passport after picking it up from her housemate at home.

We made check in and even had some time to eat Croissants at the airport lounge!

The flight with Air Berlin was great. They are a budget airline but with all the service you'd expect from a full service domestic carrier.

Upon landing in Berlin I was disappointed to find it raining, after seeing that the weather had been sunny and in the 30's in the days leading up to our arrival. I was looking forward for some decent summer weather, given that London is just too mild.

A coach picked us up at the airport and took us on a coach tour around Berlin. We had an American tour guide who has been a Berlin local for many years, and he gave us a great run down of the history of the region, from the time it was a swamp settled by Gypsies, to the Prussian Empire, The World Wars, and the rise and fall of Soviet communism and beyond.

By the time the coach had gotten us to our hotel in the afternoon, Em and I were feeling absolutely exhausted. We knew we wanted a big night out in Berlin, so we retired for an afternoon nap.

Upon awaking, it was time for dinner, and finding a decent meal was surprisingly difficult in the hotel area. It was a part of Berlin-Mitte (central Berlin) which had a high proportion of Turkish residents, and the only thing on offer were Doner Kebab shops, which I just wasn't in the mood for. Eventually, we found an Italian restaurant in a big shopping centre near the hotel, which was interesting in itself. The German take on Italian food is quite different to what I'm used to.

That night we met up with some English guys in the tour group, and decided to all hit the town together. We caught a taxi to a lively area of the city and went out to a bar recommended by one of the hotel workers. One of the English guys had done some research as to some of the clubs he wanted to visit, so we made our way to one of them, only to not be let in. In the end we decided to put our fate in the hands of our cab driver, who recommended a club for us to go to, in which we partied the night away with local Berliners and cheap drinks.

Berlin was a surprisingly cheap city, given that it's such a big place (about 4 million people). But maybe it just seems cheap because I am used to living in London and paying in Pounds.

On Saturday morning we reconvened with our camp American tour guide (he had spent most of his pre-Berlin life living in San Francisco) and headed off on a massive walking tour of the city, taking in the sights and the history. By this time the rain had stopped, and it was a glorious 26 degree day, perfect for trekking the streets.

Like the rest of Germany, the area that Berlin is in, Brandenburg, started off as an independent state. Apparently, it had grown by offering things such as audited taxes and freedom of religion and soon boomed with people from all over Europe. It acquired lands in Poland and other places, and became known as Prussia. But the region had always had its share of conflict and hardship. It eventually became part of Germany, only to struggle with World War 1 and serious depression, eventually leading to the rise of Nazism and Hitler. You know the story from there. Berlin got absolutely flattened, and East Germany got divided into administrative parts, some controlled by the Western allies, and a part, in the East (encompassing Berlin) by the Russians. Berlin was, of course, the capital, so it too was administered in part by the Western allies. This part became West Berlin, the only part in East Germany, away from the oppression of the Soviet Regime. In the sixties the Soviets built the Berlin Wall to make sure citizens of the East couldn't escape as they committed atrocities against the people within.

The East Germans have had it tough, having endured the Hitler and the Brunt of World War II, only to be followed up by the oppression of Soviet Communism. Seeing the efforts people went to try to escape, risking, and most often losing their lives for the attempts made me remember how bad it really was, and how thankful I am that my parents went to the same trouble to get us out of then-Communist Czechoslovakia when I was little.

Present day Berlin, however, is an interesting mix of delightful architecture and sobering memories.

The architecture is fascinating. There wasn't much left after World War II, so a lot of the really old buildings (mainly in West Berlin) have been rebuilt with modern materials but replicating the way the buildings looked previously. In East Germany, restoration wasn't a priority, but since reunification, Germans have been filling empty spaces (and replacing hideous concrete blocks) with cool modern architecture. A great example is the new hauptbahnhof (main train station). Because the city was split into East and West, there were 2 main train stations. Now they have built one massive one, a huge and ingenious glass design that funnels natural light through pipes down to the lower underground platforms.

The new Parliamentary office is another amazing modern design, which actually crosses the river which formed a part of the border between east and West, to symbolise reunification. The old Parliament building, the Reichstag is rebuilt to its original form but with a massive futuristic glass dome on top.

Almost all of the Berlin Wall is now gone. Its path around West Berlin is barked by a line of double brick markers, you can still see where it stood. There are a couple of areas where the wall is still standing, where you can be reminded of how East Berliners lived and how much they wanted to get out. The tallest Eastern block style apartment buildings are next to the wall where the East German government was trying to block the views of West Berlin monuments so that the East Berliners couldn't tell how well the West Berliners were living.

There is very little to remind you of the NAZI regime. The Germans have put a big effort to put all this behind them, and there are only a few historic things around describing what it was like during WW2 and Hitler. But where there are descriptions, it is truly horrendous. Looking at the photos of the pits of dead bodies is depressing and the hordes of German soldiers under huge Swastika banners is quite scary.

By Saturday night I was again tired and another nap was in order. That was followed by dinner and more bars at the lively Oranienburgerstrasse. It was really easy to get around Berlin on the U-Bahn (underground transit) and S-Bahn (surface transit). And best of all, on the weekend, most services run all night!

Sunday was another glorious day, so after checking out, M and I headed out into the sun again. We checked out remains of the wall, and Checkpoint Charlie (a checkpoint where a big dispute between Americans on the West and Soviets on the East in the sixties almost started World War 3). Then, after being all historied-out for the weekend, headed to the Tiergarten park (a park which encompasses Berlin’s Zoo), where there was a great beer garden next to a lake. We got pizza and booze, and took in our final rays in the sun before we knew we'd have to head back to London.

The Germans were very friendly in the most part, often happy to have long conversations in English, and sounding genuinely interested in our stories and telling us about Berlin.

They spoke English very well, but always amused us with some of their word selection. One example is that in German, "bitte" means "please" as well as "you're welcome." It made me smile when I was talking to a German in English and I would say thank you, and they would respond with "please." I did, however, try to speak a bit in German where I could string a few words together, and it worked in the main part. Sometimes they would just answer me in English, which was slightly embarrassing. :)

Despite being very friendly people, the Germans could also be particularly blunt sometimes. As we were walking through the Tiergarten park, M saw some Germans throwing a frisbee. She hadn't thrown a frisbee in a while, and excitedly ran over to them and asked if she could play. In all seriousness, the two German blokes looked at each other and one answered sternly, "Er, no! Not at the moment." A cold rejection; how could they resist the Aussie charm? She also got told off by a random drunk German woman on the S-Bahn for talking too loud in English late on Saturday night.

Our tour group reconvened back in our hotel on Sunday afternoon, and headed to the airport. Upon getting out of the Air Berlin 737 back at Stansted Airport in my shorts I was suddenly hit by cool wind and rain. Ah, back in good old London.

One Month in London

I have now been in London for a month and I am still really enjoying being back, especially as summer (my second one this year) gets under way.

WORK

(comments about job at a law firm - excluded from this public blog)

FUN

There has been plenty to do in London since I have got here, and I have not gone traveling around Europe just yet. I have been concentrating on work, with some play in my spare time. Here are some of the things I have gotten up to of late:

SEEING THE QUEEN AT ROYAL ASCOT

A few weeks ago I joined some friends who were going on a package tour to the races at Royal Ascot. As you know, we Melburnians love going to the races, something that we grow up with, thanks to the Melbourne Cup spring racing carnival.

The races were good fun. The Royal Enclosure requires you to wear a morning suit - top hat and a coat with tails, but we were in the (less formal) commoners’ Silver Ring enclosure, which, as it turns out, was mainly full of Aussies. Ascot allows BYO alcohol, as long as it is a moderate amount… whatever that means.

The Queen and other members of the Royal Family attend every day of Royal Ascot, and the Queen opens each day. She arrives down the straight in an open horse-drawn carriage. Our group lined the front of the fence, and as she came past (with a marching brass band playing God Save the Queen right behind us), I finally felt like I had a real British experience, seeing Her Majesty. I swear she looked at me!

The Queen is really into her horseracing. She even owns horses that compete. In fact, she won the first race of the day, and I laughed as the big screen flashed to a shot of her as the winning horse crossed the finish line. She did an almost Lleyton-Hewitt-like fist pump and she cheered on her winner, showing that even she gets excited like every other human being.

HIGH TEA IN MARYLEBONE

My housemate J got a new job, so Amanda, J and I celebrated by having a Sunday afternoon tea in at the Landmark, one of London’s five star hotels. We dressed up in our best Sunday attire, and headed off to the lovely Marylebone area.

Tea consisted of:
- little sandwiches with the crusts cut off (4 varieties: smoked salmon, cucumber, egg and chicken);
- a variety of little French cakes;
- scones with jam and cream;
- champagne; and
- of course a selection of tea.
- And one big price tag for the service!
It was a good experience though, which made me feel more British. I think I will have to have tea again some time. The Dorchester or the Ritz, I’m thinking.

BARS AND BEER GARDENS

I have continued on campaign to catch up with friends from my previous stay, as well as meeting plenty of new people. I’ve had many nights out in bars I’d been to before, and ones I’ve just discovered. The temperature lately has been consistently in the high teens or low twenties, and mostly sunny, so there have been some perfect afternoons for sitting in beer gardens having a few ciders. I guess that’s close enough to a BBQ, when you don’t have a back yard.

Yesterday it was a high of 28 degrees, and they said that it was probably the hottest day of summer. 28 is as hot as it gets??? Admittedly, 28 here feels a lot hotter than 28 in Australia.

LONDON SIGHTSEEING

I never seem to do much sightseeing in London as I do anywhere else in the world. I guess that’s a part of the whole thing of London feeling like a home to me.

But a couple of weeks ago I got sudden notice of a friend from Australia being in London for a few days on a last minute business trip, so it gave me the excuse to meet up with him in the afternoon and do some sightseeing. We spent a lot of time walking the streets and along river banks, and visited the underground rooms used for Winston Churchill and his Cabinet during World War II.

I often forget that they weren’t as lucky as Australia here. Aussies were mostly unaffected by the war (but for those who had to go abroad). Here, people had to crowd in tube stations just to seek shelter from bombings, and the Prime Minister was stuck in accommodation worse than some of my hostels in recent months.

ENGLISH BUREAUCRACY

It’s often a pain to have to organise anything official in this country.

When I was last here I had so much trouble getting a bank account, and the one I eventually did get, was such a basic kiddy account that it didn’t do everything I needed, like allow online banking transfers. Every time I wanted to send money home to Australia, I’d have to take cash out of one bank and deposit it into the bank account of my transfer company. Not good walking around the city with £600 ($1300) cash in your pocket!

So this time I tried opening a bank account with a new and hit the usual British difficulties. To open an account you need proof of address, like a Council Tax or water bill. Which is a bit hard when you just came to the country. You also need to prove your income for the bank’s credit check (despite the fact you’re not asking for a loan of any sort). In the end I managed to convince them to open a proper bank account for me but it took many phone calls and many bank visits, the details of which I won’t bore you with now.

The next step in my English life was to get a National Insurance Number (like a tax file number), which involved its own nightmare visit to the Job Centre (like an even less efficient Centrelink) to be interviewed by a fat grumpy public servant, and various superfluous paperwork. Next I have to register with a local doctor, because you need to be “registered” with a GP to get any sort of medical access, so I figure its better to register just in case.

THE FUTURE

There is plenty of work to be done in my job, so I’ll continue working to get my financial situation back in the black, as I keep my eyes open for a good job.

I’m planning various bits of travel for summer, including a weekend in Berlin this weekend, and another trip somewhere later in summer. So far Switzerland, Greece, Turkey, Spain or Portugal (or a combination) are all possibilities

First Week in London

As I waited for my Dublin bound plane at JFK airport I decided to entertain myself by going to the terminal’s Irish bar. How appropriate, an Irish pub in the terminal that connects New York to Ireland. In fact, most of the people at the bar were actually on the Dublin flight.

My flight to Dublin was smooth, but then my flight to London was delayed. It was somewhat concerning when, whilst taxiing to the runway, they said that one of the engines wasn’t working and that we had to head back to the terminal. But I eventually landed in London safely.

From Heathrow I quickly reminded myself of UK public transport and made my way to South London to meet my Aussie friends Amanda and J, who I’d be staying with. No time to rest though, we were off to the West End for dinner and a show. A good first night in London.

The next day, Saturday, was the last day Londoners could legally drink on city transport. Most civilized countries around the world have long disallowed drinking on public transport but the new London mayor had just decided to bring that in; much to the disgust of young Londoners. Said Londoners decided to organise a massive party on the underground ‘circle’ line to protest, so I decided to join in and make history – I attended London’s biggest and last tube party. It was a big hot sweaty drunken mess, where stations were eventually evacuated and supposedly police assaulted, but it was good fun, the British way. I felt pleased to be back in London – where there’s always something to do.

The rest of my first week was spent recovering from backpacking, catching up with friends and getting ready for working life (like buying work clothes and attending job interviews).

I have spent some down time just chilling out watching TV. There are quite a few Australian shows on Sky TV here, including:
- Neigbours (a British favourite)
- Home & Away
- Water Rats
- Secret Life of Us
- Border Security (except they call it "Nothing to Delcare")
and, soon to air
- Summer Heights High

Of course TV isn't the only thing that has lots of Australians. There are a lot of Australians in London generally. My friend from back in Melbourne, M, took me to a regular Wednesday night gathering to eat pizza at a great pub in Islington. Apparently various combinations of friends and friends of friends attend that night from week to week, but when I was there, out of about 8 people, there was only one non-Melburnian! (who was in fact Czech so I had something in common with him too)

The weather here is reasonably warm (no New York heat though yet), the beers and ciders are cheap and plentiful (and, yes, they are cold) and I’ve had a great time with my mates introducing me to all their favourite hangouts.

New York City /Leaving America

My last day in Atlantic City was so nice and sunny I didn't leave until late – I was enjoying sitting in the sun on the beach too much. But eventually I made my way to the bus terminal. I inquired about a Greyhound ticket to New York City but apparently all the buses were running off schedule. I got a ticket from another bus company and was soon on my way. The trip was slow – it seems the traffic caused by everyone going home from the Memorial Day long weekend caused congestion. The coach was packed too, some people didn't even have seats! Not pleasant for a long distance bus ride.

I arrived in New York City after 9pm and after I figured out the right subway to my East Village “hotel”, got lost in the Lower East Side and eventually found my “hotel” it was quite late, and I was tired, hot and exhausted.

The “hotel” clerk gave me my key and asked me to go up stairs with my baggage, and leave it up there and come pay - if I like it. I thought this was a very unorthodox check-in process but went with it. I soon realised why.

I climbed up the dingy stairway, opened the locked solid heavy door and came into what seemed like a large hot room with lots of old wooden garden shed doors. Each door was to an individual room, but the individual rooms were all one one large hall separated by thin wooden walls that didn't go up all the way to the ceiling. Instead they had lattice ceilings about a foot from the ceiling of the real door. Each room was more like a small cell, with just enough room for a very small single bed and some space right next to it to dump your back pack. The shared showers (2 for the whole floor) were just additional garden-shed-doored subcells, and the toilets were practically out in the open. Anyone booking this place expecting a real “hotel” would have run for the hills. But I knew I was expecting more of a hostel type accommodation of a different kind, thanks to a recommendation from Brenna, a Melburnian I had met in Niagara Falls. She would be staying there at the same time, had stayed there before, and had assured me that the experience was quite good.

She had based this on the location of the neighbourhood. And she was right. The East Village was a cool part of Manhattan, with small, dark atmospheric bars, nice diners and boutique shops.

I spent most of the evenings enjoying the local nightlife with Brenna and her Austrian friend, or shopping in Times Square, a short subway ride away. The nights in the “hotel” weren't super comfortable. You could hear every time someone in the next three rooms turned over, and could hear people peeing in the toilets on the other side of the “hotel”. But overall for $28 a night in the middle of Manhattan it wasn't too bad, when you think about the fact that it is still a step up from a hostel dorm room.

I later found out that I had a super deluxe room due to the fact that the space next to my bed was almost the same size as the bed (the others' had smaller rooms), I had a TV (it didn't work properly) and I had sexy satin sheets.

I'd been to New York before a few years ago and had done the sights, so most of my days this time were spent just hanging around Manhattan. Walking the streets, checking out the buildings, the streets below them, and the busy people walking down those.

It was a great few days to spend outdoors, as it was sunny, hot and humid. On my second last day in New York, Brenna, Claudia and I caught the subway to Coney Island in Brooklyn to hang out on the beach. On my day of departure I checked out of the “hotel,” had breakfast in a typical New York diner, and stopped off at a barber shop. I was flying to London, where everything is expensive, so it was my last chance to get a cheap haircut. I walked all the way up Broadway to Central Park in the sunshine, lay in the park and took in my final few North American rays. Then it was time to head to JFK airport to fly across the Atlantic to Dublin, and then on to London.

It was the end of my two months of backpacking around North America. I'd started Canada in one of the biggest attractions: world class skiing in Whistler. I went coast to coast on the ground and finished at the world's most amazing attraction, Niagara Falls. I'd been to half a dozen Canadian provinces and half a dozen American States. I'd eaten poutine in Montreal, buffalo wings in Buffalo and Philly cheese steaks in Philadelphia. But most importantly I'd met lots of fantastic people along the way, and feel satisfied that I made the most of having two months to spare.

The carefree backpacking lifestyle had come to an end, but I left with confidence that London – and neighbouring continental Europe – would bring further adventures.

Atlantic City

For those who haven't heard of it, Atlantic City is like the Las Vegas of the East coast. Except nicer.

I arrived by train and walked straight down to the boardwalk and along the beach. The boardwalk is lined with casinos, touristy shops, restaurants and bars. Much like the Strip in Las Vegas but with a nice beach on one side and much cleaner. Atlantic City has a more family atmosphere, with plenty of people out with their families on a long weekend. It was a coincidence, but I got here on the Friday afternoon just in time for the Memorial Day long weekend, so it was a busy time for Atlantic City, a city that would but for the tourism be a very small place.

During this trip I had adopted an “anti hotel policy.” I find hotels pretty boring, and prefer to stay at hostels and similar accommodation where I can meet plenty of people. But Atlantic City is a place for local tourism, and there aren't any hostels. But I did manage to find some interesting accommodation. Google told me about an Irish pub with cheap upstairs rooms, and cheap food and drink at the bar. The internet reviews said the bar was a great friendly place, but the hotel wasn't much.

So when I arrived, I was expecting a dump, but was pleasantly surprised. It was an old quaint hotel, full of antiques and Irish themed pictures on the wall. I was impressed with my single room. Not having a TV, air conditioning or an ensuite is no big deal after living in dorm rooms for almost 2 months. The beauty of it was that it was as cheap as a hostel too.

I hung out a bit in the bar, and met a variety of tourists and locals. The locals all told me that this was the best place in all of Atlantic City. $1.75 draft beers and $5 meals (served 24 hours a day) kept me coming back to the pub a number of time through the long weekend.

I played some poker tournaments at the Hilton Casino and checked out various other casino bars, getting drinks for free along the way. As in Vegas, they comp you free drinks, from coffee to cocktails, as long as you are sitting at a poker table or even playing a slot machine. Some locals put me onto a particular bar called Dizzy Dolphin, at which they have video poker machines built into the bar, and as long as you have some credits in the machine while you sit at the bar, you get comped drinks. I stumbled in there at 2am on one night, and after 3 long island iced teas and meeting one of the actors from the Sopranos, somehow managed to get home to the other end of the boardwalk... (mainly thanks to an all night bus service called the Jitney)

But Atlantic City wasn't all drinking and gambling. The shopping was really good too. One of the piers has a massive shopping centre on it, at which I went on a bit of a shopping spree in the Quicksilver shop. In America, you only pay about $20 for a brand name T-shirt, and this shop had half of its stuff discounted 50% off, and New Jersey doesn't charge tax for clothes. I followed that up by shopping at the outlets. Now I fear I'm going to have to buy an extra bag to fit everything in.

The weather was mainly nice ans sunny for the long weekend, so I even spent some time hanging out at the beach. But there was a breeze, and supposedly the water was really cold, so I didn't hang there long. There were crowds on the beach, but for me the beach wasn't as big a deal. As nice as it was, it was still nowhere near as nice as the beaches we get in Melbourne, let alone the rest of Australia. Though it was good to be out in the sun on the sand, before heading to the Big Apple.

Philadelphia

In Philadelphia I was staying in an area of the city called University City. It is an inner suburban area with 3 different universities in it, including the prestigious Penn University.

I was staying in the Loftstel – the same company which I stayed in at DC. In DC I paid $50 per night for the hostel room which is the most I've ever paid for a hostel. But it was nice, and it paid off, because the Loftstel had a transfer policy, by which you could get free accommodation in any other Loftstel in 4 cities within a week of your last paid visit (with various conditions applying). Anyway, the point is I managed to swing it to get 3 nights FREE accommodation in the Philly Loftstel.

University City was a really really nice part of the city, and full of uni students. Upon arrival at the Loftstel I was hoping for an exact blueprint of the DC Loftstel. It was the same sort of townhouse, but I was disappointed upon entering that it was very run down (in fact in comparison to the DC Loftstel it reminded me of the abandoned house from Fight Club) and there were no pretty 20 year old interns around.

But hey, I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. That night I hung out with 2 German blokes. We checked out the Penn campus. The next day I slept in and just had enough time to head out the the Old City for a Philly cheese steak.

A Philly cheese steak is a sandwich in a crusty long roll with thin cuts of grilled beef, melted cheese and fried onions. It is traditional Pennsylvanian junk cuisine. The Germans had gone so that night I hung out with a guy from Chile and his Greek friend who lives in London.

My last day in Philly was spent doing some sightseeing. I headed straight for the museum of art to run up the stairs from the Rocky movie. Later in the afternoon, back in the Old City, I walked into a random dingy bar to have another cheese steak and a $1 beer. I started talking to the guy next to me, who was a German accented Spanish tourist. We chatted for a while and I was proud to have made friends with someone other than in my hostel. Then we started discussing where we were staying, and it turns out that he too was staying at the other end of the city in University City, in fact in the Loftstel as well, and in the room right next to mine. Amazing coincidence in a city of eight million people!

On my last night I did what I almost always do on my last night – got drunk. I went out to some cool bars with a girl from Oklahoma.

I got to bed at 5am (after stopping off on the way home in 24 hour diner for a third cheese steak in two days), and had to get up at 10 to check out of the hostel, hung over as usual.

I did that, and made my way to the main train station in the city, to catch the New Jersey transit to Atlantic City.

Living with Interns - Washington DC

I flew from Buffalo, New York, to Baltimore, Maryland, on the original budget airline. SouthWest Airlines were the pioneers in the budget airline market, which JetStar, RyanAir and all those airlines are based on. They do, however, give FREE peanuts, softdrink and coffee, so maybe the abovenentioned airlines could still learn from them.

When I got out at Baltimore airport I was surprised by how warm and humid it was. I knew I was flying south, but I had no diea that it would be noticeable. I caught a local bus for 45 min to the outskirts of Washington DC. From there I connected with the metro to take me to my suburban hostel location.

As I got out of the metro station I was a bit scared. The area was full of black gangster types hanging around. Would I be OK to walk through this area or would I be mugged for the contents of my backpack and my shoes?
As I got into the back streets the look of the area was actually quite nice. Neat suburban townhouses. But the population was seemingly 100% black. Maybe just because it's a black area it doesn't mean its a ghetto.

Indeed when I got to my hostel I found out that it is a reasonably safe area. Upon further reading about DC, apparently a vast majority of the original population is African American.

The hostel was one of the nicest places I've stayed. Upon ringing the doorbell I was greeted by a girl in PJ's welcoming me to Loftstel. It was a 3 or 4 level townhouse which retained it's house feel. It was nothing like a hostel apart from the fact you were sharing bedrooms in bunks with strangers. The feel of the place was like just one big share house. I really liked it. Especially because most of the residents were American students from other parts of the country who were in DC to do internships at various organisations. It was a welcome change living with American students instead of Aussie backpackers. Actually meeting some Americans whilst in America. And I was the only Australian living there, that was a first!

I spent my days sightseeing and my evenings hanging out with the interns at the house.

DC itself was really nice in the central area. I had great weather so I spent a lot of time just walking around in the sunshine checking out the monuments.

Seeing Washington DC made me realise where Australia got its idea for Canberra, the Australian capital. There are lots of similarities. Not only is it a city set up specially to be a capital, but there are many design similarities. The main legislature is on “Capitol Hill” in both cities, and is joined in a triangle with other important buildings. I think Burley Griffin must have been to DC before drawing the plans for Canberra.

After 3 nights in DC it was time to move on. I packed my backpack, and caught a Greyhound bus through Delaware to nearby Philadelphia.

Last days in Cananda

Ziggy, my travel companion through Quebec, and I caught the train back to the south of the Quebec province to Montreal. I wanted to spend 2 more nights in Montreal before heading onto Niagara Falls in the south of Ontario. We parted in Montreal where she headed onto Ottawa, one of only a few major cities I didn't get around to seeing on my Canadian journey.

In Montreal I checked back into the hostel I stayed in the first time around and as it happened even got the same room. My hoody which I'd left there two weeks earlier was still hanging in the room.

But Montreal itself had changed in the two weeks I was gone. It was now much more colourful. The Maples now had fresh spring green leaves, and flowers everywhere were flowering. Many streets were lined with various tulips. It made the city look really pretty.

I spent the night in as it was washing night again. Washing isn't too bad a chore when you can have a beer at the hostel bar while your clothes tumble around the machines next door. At the bar I bumped into Emma, a Swedish girl I had a beer with back in Quebec. The backpacker trail seems to yield a lot of the same paths.

The next day was my last day in Montreal so I wanted to do all the sights I didn't have time for during my first 5 day stay. So in the morning Emma and I checked out the Biodome (a rain forest, North American forest and antarctic habitat all in one building). It was pretty much just an indoor zoo but I enjoyed watching the beavers and otters under the water.

The rest of my day was spent walking around the city, including a hike through the parkland up to Mont Royal for some killer views of the city.

The weather in Montreal was now great. Sunny clear blue skies with 24 degree air. It was starting to feel like summer. Who said Canada was cold?

I finished off Montreal that night but yet another Montreal pub crawl, which ensured that on checkout morning the next day I was feeling very ill.

I didn't want to know about life. I had a few errands to run in the morning so I forced myself to do that, pack, and get on the train to Niagara Falls.

I passed out almost instantly upon boarding the train. I slept most of the way from Montreal to Toronto and then changed trains to Niagara Falls and again slept the entire way. I felt a bit guilty given that the intention of doing Canada by train was to see the scenery.

The train station in Niagara Falls is downtown, a few kilometers away from the touristy area. Seeing as I had slept all day I decided it was time to get some exercise so I lugged my backpack across the city by foot and got some fresh air. And the air was indeed fresh, and drizzly. Shame the Montreal weather didn't follow me.

As I walked through quiet back streets of the city, still far from my destination, I head a noticeable humming noise. It sounded like a factory perhaps. But as I kept walking I could still hear it and getting louder. Could I hear the falls, from over a kilometer away?

I could. As I got to the main drag in the touristy part of town near the falls, I could definitely hear them. I couldn't see a thing though, it was foggy and misty and drizzly. I could barely make out the bright lights of the casinos. I'd have to explore tomorrow instead.

When I found eventually found my hostel in the fog, I walked in to be greeted with “Hi, you must be Daniel.”

“Uhh... yeah. Am I the only person staying here or something?”

It was a small hostel but no, I wasn't the only one staying. The hosts just had a really personal touch. This hostel was unlike any place I've ever stayed. The owners were your friends, and you felt like you were in someone's house as a guest rather than lodging in a backpackers. It was great. I was welcomed immediately by Danish girls offering me some of their beers. I loved this place!

The beers helped cure my day-long hangover and I ended up going out on the town with some British boys.

The next day it was time to go check out the falls. The road to the falls was a ridiculous tourist mecca. The Clifton Hill strip is bright like Las Vegas and full of crappy attractions like Surfers Paradise. There are like seventeen wax museums and other tourist destination specialties like Ripley's Believe It Or Not and Guinness World Records museum. Each of these purported attractions have music blaring along with recorded voice messages telling you why you just have to go in. The whole experience is quite distasteful really.

But the street isn't long and before you hit the end, you see the Niagara Falls. Once at the waterfront of the gorge you can see the American Falls immediately opposite and the grand Horseshoe Falls to the side. The amount of water gushing over those cliffs is amazing. Us Aussies can only dream of seeing so much fresh water.

By night, the waterfalls were flood lit by colourful floodlights, making sure that you always had a good view of the falls. Also by night, many of the restaurants converted into bars. I went out to check out some of the spots with a group from the hostel and the nightlife was good for what is essentially a small place. Although a large proportion of the patrons seemed to be 19 year olds from across the American border who were underage to drink at home.

When I saw the Falls at first I thought, “nice, but I imagined them to be bigger”. Well the next day I experienced them the way they were meant to be experienced. I went on the Maid of the Mist, which is a boat that takes down the gorge right almost underneath the waterfalls. As we approached each of the Falls on the still sunny afternoon, the wind would suddenly pick up. The sheer pressure of all that water pouring down was enough to create a strong wind, blowing mist into my face. When we were under the larger Horseshoe Falls, surrounded by vertical walls of water, I just stood there on the boat letting the water be blown onto me, and it was an amazing feeling. I'd never experienced nature quite like this. The fresh water water smacking me in the face while all I could do was see white was one of the highlights of this trip. I just stood there until my eyes began to sting. As the boat backed off, I realised my head was completely drenched. Lucky they gave out ponchos to cover passengers' clothes.

I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on one of the many hostel balconies just enjoying the sunshine. That night was Friday night so the Americans from over the border really started to roll in to town, as well as various Canadians coming down for a long weekend. Apparently it was a special weekend because it was the official start of the summer season, where camp grounds and tourist attractions would open their doors. That night, they had their first fireworks over the Falls. Lucky I was there to catch it on the last night. I went out that night with two Melburnians as there were 3 of us in the small hostel, one of them working there.

The next day I had a flight booked from Buffalo airport to Baltimore. Buffalo is a city in upstate New York not too far from Niagara Falls.

So I got up and walked across the Rainbow Bridge to the American side of Niagara Falls, checking out the American views of the falls on the way. The Canadians get the better perspective but at least the Americans haven't got a tourist mecca. Instead, they have a nice park surrounding the falls.

I didn't make it to the American side of town in time to catch the 2 buses I was meant to take to the Buffalo airport so I had to shell out for a $70 taxi. This was by far the most expensive per-mile journey I had made all trip, seeing as that was the same price of my flight that day.

Whilst waiting at Buffalo airport I found a small bar at which I ordered some Buffalo Wings – which was my one aim for Buffalo. The way salloon style eateries work in North America is that you get free softdrink refills...or "pop" as they call it here. So I just sat there drinking multiple refills of iced tea (they have lemon iced tea on tap everywhere) after I finished my wings. Best value airport meal ever -- not every day you spend only $15 at an airport for a meal, 4 iced teas and a coffee.

Québec

As with all most of my other travel blog episodes, this one begins with a train ride. I left Halifax, Nova Scotia at 12:30 in the afternoon and arrived in Charny, Quebec at about 4:45am.

Charny is a town on the other side of the St Lawrence River from Quebec, and from there I had to catch a “shuttle” to Quebec city. The so-called shuttle turned out to be a bunch of taxi drivers waiting to take us to the city. They crowded passengers and their luggage into cabs which were really too small to take everyone, but we somehow managed. Half asleep, I watched the Quebec suburbs as we drove during sunrise to the station.

The station house was my first impression of Quebec City and what an impression. As with the rest of the city, the station is grand and old. I walked up the steep hills, through the city walls and into the old part of town, Vieux-Quebec, to my Hosteling International accommodation.

I was dead tired, due to little sleep on the overnight train. I only had a single seat on the train this time because the train was full and I didn't want to sleep next to a stranger, and my last night in Halifax didn't involve much sleep as I wanted to make the most of my last chance to watch TV for a while (and thanks to my hosts' digital TV hard drive recorder, there was plenty to watch).

But I would have to endure my tiredness as check-in would only commence at 2:00pm. It was only 6am. I killed some time with activities such as facebook photo uploads and Skype videoconference with mum (ahh technology) and went out for some breakfast. By that time it was a lovely sunny warm day and I began exploring the glorious city.

Quebec is by far the most beautiful city in North America. It is old, clean and built with a medieval European influence. Walking abound the streets it is hard to remember that you're still in North America. It is more like being in an old French or Belgian fort. The old part of town is surrounded by city walls, with the massive 1800's Hotel Frontenac standing right in the middle of the town, overlooking it. On the river side is a French style fortification known as a citadel, with masses of old cannons pointing out into the river and over the city. The riverfront is lined with European townhouses which could well be along the Rhine River in Germany. And to highlight these sites, I was lucky enough to experience it all in brilliant sunshine.

During my explorations I had bumped into Ziggy, an English girl I had met back in Montreal a week earlier. She would become my travel partner for Quebec.

We walked around town, did a tour of the citadel and checked out the famous hotel. We enjoyed the European influence over food in Quebec. Of all the places in North America, it was definitely the best place to get a decent meal. We had lunch in a brewery bar right on Rue Saint-Jean, a cobbled street running through the centre of the old town. We ate steaks lunches, which I was happy about as I decided I wanted my share of good beef before I get over to Europe.

By 5pm I was exhausated and ready to crash. I checked into my hostel, had a much needed shower (I had been going for 2 days in the same clothes). I had a 2 hour nap, ready to hit some bars that night.

We tried a few bars and one of the places we went to was an Irish pub. It doesn't seem to matter where you go in the world, there are always Irish pubs. I was surprised to see an Aussie rules football jumper (resembling my team, the Richmond Tigers) hanging in the bar. Some locals explained to me that it is from the local Aussie rules football league.

A number of people seemed to be interested in having a chat to me when they found out I was Australian. It seems that finally I had made it to a place that was a little bit less full of Aussies than all of the other places I had visited. Perhaps the Aussies stick more to the English speaking parts normally. Quebec city is apparently 95% French-speaking, compared to essentially multilingual Montreal which is apparently about 65% French, 35% English.

On Saturday morning I woke up shocked to find myself all red. It seems my day of exploration the day before had left me quite sunburnt. I wasn't expecting that to happen in Canada during spring time – maybe “slip slop slap” applies here too. So the first stop on Saturday was to the pharmacy for some sunscreen.

We went to the Aquarium Park, the highlight of which was a couple of beautiful polar bears. I think we must have spent hours watching them play, swim, eat and cuddle. We caught public transport buses across town (often a challenge when you don't understand the system or the language) and back to the city centre. I took a walk around the city walls at sunset, admiring the old city skyline from atop of the city walls. There were many groups of young people sitting on the lush green grass lawns on top of the walls drinking as the sun set... what a cool way to start a Saturday night!

Back at the hostel I met an Irish couple who were riding their bikes across a big chunk of Canada. We went out that night for drinks and ended up at the same Irish bar I went to the other night. I sampled some of my Irish companion's favourite Irish whiskey and listened to their stories of trying to survive crossing Quebec by bicycle, camping in various small French speaking villages in the cold and rain. It made me feel like a very soft traveler, with the luxury of train seats and hostel bunks.

On our last day in Quebec, Ziggy and I did a boat cruise up the St Lawrence river, which took us to the Montmorency Falls. These waterfalls flowing into the river are apparently higher than Niagara Falls. We sat on the sunny (though unfortunately windy) deck of the boat, enjoying some vodkas, and then walked around town and finished off in another old town centre restaurant for a steak dinner. For $14 each we got a steak and chips, with a soup to start with and desert to finish. I very much enjoyed Quebecan eating. The litre bottle of Italian Rose was also a good way to keep up the drinking we had started earlier.

Back at the hostel, it turned out that I was the only one left in my 4-bed dorm and no-one else had checked in... so I did what any self respecting backpacker would do in a hostel that disallowed alcoholic drinks (other than those purchased at the bar), invited a few people to my room to sit around and drink. I felt like a teenager again, buying dodgy cheap drinks at the supermarket and sneaking them into the room, but that was part of the fun. After all, it was good to celebrate an enjoyable stay in America's nicest city.

Today is another beautiful sunny day, and I am on the train from Quebec, heading south. I am headed for Niagara Falls, but have two days to spare before I make it there. It was a toss up between spending them in Toronto or Montreal, but there are a few more things I wanted to see in Montreal, so it will be two more nights there, before leaving Quebec province and heading to the south of Ontario. Maybe it will be a chance to fit in one more serving of poutine.

Montreal

My train from Toronto got into Montreal on Sunday night. The Montreal train station was pretty dead, and its surroundings downtown even more so. It took me a while to find the metro (subway) through a series of complicated underground tunnels. I had of course made it more complicated than I needed to because I hadn't even gone to the nearest metro. But that's all a part of the fun in getting lost in a foreign city.

All across Canada, in many of the English speaking places, signs were bilingual – English and French. So I was surprised that when I got to Montreal and most of the signs were in French only. Thanks to a combination of my sub-basic French and the similarities between French and English words, I usually managed to figure out the meaning of most signs. However when someone started talking to me in French, I pretty much had no idea beyond “Bonjour!”

My first night at the hostel was a quiet one. It was to be my last quiet one in Montreal, I just didn't realise it yet.

My first full day in Montreal was to begin with a hostel-organised bike tour, but the weather was bad and there wasn't much interest so it was canceled. I went on a self guided walking tour instead (ie. just walking around) but after it started raining, I lasted only about 2 hours of walking in the rain until I gave up, drenched. I went into a warm bar for lunch and ordered a local beer and some poutine. Poutine is a famous Quebecan food which consists of french fries and cheese curds covered in hot gravy. This rather unhealthy treat is so good when you eat it, but as you can imagine leaves you feeling a little sick afterwards. I had it 3 times in my first 2 days in Montreal so I had to do a lot of walking to work it off! But no more that dreary, rainy day: I went back to the hostel to do my washing.

That night was hockey night, a very important night in Montreal. The Montreal Canadians are in the ice hockey playoffs, and the city is completely hockey crazy. Canadiens flags are being flown on a quarter of all cars in the city, from many houses and buildings and Canadiens murals are found on various walls around the city. School kids wear Canadiens T-shirts with their school uniform, and the public transport bus displays switch between the bus number and destination and “Go Canadiens Go!”

A hostel staff member painted “Go Habs!” on my forehead with paint and a whiteboard marker and we headed to a bar to watch the game. It felt good to get into the spirit of things.

Unfortunately Montreal lost. But it was a good night anyway, and I had a chance to meet a bunch of people.

I spent the next few days exploring more of the city. The rain had held off, and even though most of the time it was still very chilly, but good enough to appreciate the sights around the city, including Old Montreal, the park islands in the St Lawerence River and the downtown shopping areas.

My third night in the city, a Tuesday night, was a massive one thanks to a hostel-organised pub crawl which began in a place offering five shots for $11. My fourth night required further bar drinking as it was another hockey night. My fifth night (and I note I was originally only going to stay three nights) was another pub crawl and who am I to say no to that.

Before I got to Montreal I had heard that it has the most beautiful women in Canada. My somewhat extensive observations in the city proved that to be correct. Just riding the metro was interesting but I was blown away by how gorgeous pretty much each and every bar maid was. I guess that helps when you work behind the bar in a tipping country like Canada.

My last full day was spent hanging out with a Brisbane girl and two girls from Nova Scotia on the east coast of Canada. We covered a lot of ground, from the Biosphere on one of the islands in the St Lawerence to Little Italy in the northern suburbs.

By the time it hit Friday it was definitely time to leave. I loved my time in Montreal but it was time to move on. The amount of going out I had done in the week made me think that it might be dangerous to try to survive a weekend in Montreal.

I would head to Halifax, Nova Scotia. It wasn't on my original itinerary but many people I met in Canada along the way, including Robin and Livia who I'd hung out with in Montreal, were adamant that I should check out Nova Scotia. I also liked the idea that I could then say I've made it from coast to coast by rail. And as a final incentive, my friend Jen who I met in Europe in 2006 had good friends in Halifax that I could stay with. The beauty of traveling on a rail pass is the flexibility to change an itinerary at a whim, so on Friday I boarded a train bound for a 20 hour train ride to Halifax.

Nova Scotia

The train that awaited me in Montreal was the most modern and high tech I'd yet experienced in my cross-continental journey. Though its configuration did present an interesting dilemma. The seating was set out such that it was two seats next to each other on one side of the aisle, and a single seat on the other. The dilemma is do you take a double seat, clearly more roomy, but risk someone smelly sitting next to you for hours on end, or do you take a safe but less comfortable single seat?

I took the double and luckily I had the whole seat to myself for the twenty hour journey. Some other double-takers weren't so lucky, but I was got to lie (almost) comfortably on the seats and get plenty of sleep. When I woke up the next morning we were somewhere in northern Quebec and surrounded, again, in snow – something I had not seen since crossing over from Manitoba to Ontario. I wasn't looking forward to being confronted again with really cold weather, but was pleased as we headed through the maritime provinces closer to the Atlantic, that the snowy areas were replaced by lush green grasses and birch forests which looked like they were starting to think about sprouting green leaves.

The train arrived in Halifax 20 minutes early. But when we got off the train, they didn't let us get into the station house to get our luggage. Apparently there was a fire alarm going off at the station, so the next half hour was spent outside waiting in the evacuation point. Not a fantastic welcome to Halifax but at least it was sunny.

Once I picked up my backpack I headed out of the station, following the directions I had scribbled in my note book the day before, copying from an email. The email I was following was from a girl called Carrie who I'd never met. It was a strange feeling, going to a house of people who were essentially complete strangers, to just rock up at their door, saying “here I am, put me up.”

But Jen, who I'd gone to Belgium, Germany and France with during my stint in London, was a great person whom I was quietly confident would recommend cool people for me to stay with it.

It turned out great. Carrie, Ali, Kev, Chris and Jen were a great bunch of fun people who went out of their way to make my stay comfortable and fun.

My evenings were spent hanging out with the abovementioned housemates and one or two other of their friends. We seemed to click really well so it was great fun, for me at least. I got to go to a few bars, including an apparently well known sailors bar called the Lower Deck, where I got to drink the local beer Keith's, calling out the traditional drinking salute for the city “sociable!” – instead of boring old “cheers!”

One night I even managed to get along to a world championships ice hockey game, thanks to a hook up for some free tickets (thanks Chris!). The championships are being co-hosted in Halifax and Quebec City. My first ever hockey game, and it was good fun. We watched the United States team, full of NHL players, destroy Slovenia, but it was fun cheering the underdog on.

I am a bit embarrassed to admit my mornings were exclusively spent sleeping, but my afternoons were more efficiently spent.

My new found housemates took me to a small, touristy seaside town called Peggy's Cove where we climbed along the seaside rocks and ate seafood at the local cafe. Another day, on a foggy afternoon, Ali took me on a three-hour hike along the rocky coastline which took us through a bunch of different scenery from beach to swamp to lush green forest. It was some really amazing scenery: watching the dark Atlantic Ocean coming out of the fog, the waves massaging the smooth grey rocky seashore, being overlooked by damp, mossy, tranquil forests.

Livia, a Swiss-born Nova Scotian studying in Halifax, who I'd met in Montreal, was kind enough to show me around the city and better still, another day take me for a big drive around the south of the provine. I saw some of the prettiest towns I've seen anywhere in the world. Quaint old villages of two or three story wooden houses along big rivers or greyish sandy beaches, all surrounded by lush green grass on a rocky surface. It reminded me of Ireland or Scotland, but I guess that's where the province gets its name (Nova Scotia had a lot of early settlement from Scotland). I even got to check out Livia's farm and stable, in a little village in an nice area of the province surrounded by beaches and rivers.

One of the best thing about being hosted in the province by locals was the fact that they had cars! Which meant I was able to finally explore some of the great sights of country Canada, rather than being restricted to the cities and what I can see from a train.

I had a great time in Nova Scotia, and thank all the people in Halifax who made my stay a definite highlight of my trip!

Toronto

My train from the prairies approached Toronto during the early evening. It was one last chance to have a meal in the coffee shop car on the train. I was seated next to young lady from British Columbia who was doing some traveling on the East coast for bit. She was interesting to chat to but also somewhat mysterious. She had her book with her, and I glanced at the title. “The Ethical Slut” - a guide to limitless sexual possibilities. I was tempted to inquire about her book but chickened out and didn't bring it up.

After dinner I returned to my seat and to some more savory thoughts.

For example:

As we passed through the first of the small towns I noticed some kids run out and wave to the thrice-weekly train and reflected upon the fact that it was one of my favourite things about coming through these out-of-the-way places. Very cute.

I observed the residential architecture as the train started to come through the vast sprawling greater Toronto suburbs. It was the first time in quite a while that I'd seen BRICK houses. North American houses are mainly multi storied board houses, and the lack of seeing bricks around was starting to make me feel homesick. Seeing some brick townhouses made me feel more at home, but interestingly it reminded me more of London and not Melbourne.

At Toronto's Union Station I changed to the subway which got me closer to my hostel. As I came up to ground level and looked around at the high rise city buildings lighting up the night sky above streets of restaurants, bars and cafes, I breathed in the welcome warm air and sighed in breath of satisfaction – I immediately knew I liked this place.

I walked through the “entertainment district” past some more restaurants and nightclubs to my back street hostel. I was essentially following the German girl I'd met on the train from Edmonton. She said she'd lived previously at the hostel for several months, so I figured it was a good place to stay.

It was a good assumption. The Canadiana Backpackers Lodge is one of the friendliest hostels I've ever stayed at, and with a great atmosphere to match the vibe of the city.

Canadians are surprised when I tell them, based on my limited experience, that I like Toronto better than Vancouver. Yes, Vancouver is a prettier city, but Toronto has an exciting, lively vibe. Maybe it's just the big city person in me talking. And don't get me wrong, Toronto has it's big city down sides as well. One thing I noticed was a lot of violence. On my very first night in my dorm room there was a guy who had gone out to a bar, and had apparently without provocation been smashed over the back of the head with a glass bottle. Supposedly in retaliation to an accidental nudge. I saw other examples of aggression and willful damage, but maybe that's just what you get when you stay a weekend in the heart of a big city's entertainment area. It would probably be no different to a Saturday night in front of Melbourne's CQ.

I managed to make the most out of my nights in Toronto by going out a fair bit. On ANZAC Day a bunch of Aussies and Kiwis (and an assortment of other miscellaneous nationalities) went out to celebrate in a pub that was showing some AFL. I checked out various other local bars and even experienced my first gay nightclub. Don't worry, Canada hasn't turned me, I was chaperoning a lady who had promised her gay friend she would go out in the gay village with him.

I spent my days mainly just walking around and taking the city in. My only real tourist attraction was the must-see CN Tower. I've visited a few famous towers in my time, from Rialto and Eureka back home to The Eiffel in Paris and Empire State in New York City. But Toronto's version takes the cake in terms of height.

As the glass lift blasted off up the tower I found myself holding on to the edge of the lift rather tight, and was amused by the fact that everyone in the rather crowded lift avoided standing on the see-through glass panel on the floor.

The view from the top of the tower showed what a big city Toronto really is. As far as you could see, it was houses, blocks of flats and factories, but amongst a sea of spring green trees. I hadn't noticed it till then, but Toronto was well into spring, where as back in Alberta and Manitoba all I saw was depressingly bare branches.

After 4 nights in Toronto I didn't feel like leaving yet, but it is time to experience a different Canada again. So I packed my backpack. As travel time passes I seem to collect more stuff and the backpack gets harder to pack. I've had to master the art of strapping things to the outside of my backpack instead trying to force everything inside. I bet I look like quite the site walking down the street or standing on the subway with my small backpack on my chest, main backpack on my back, with various jackets and objects dangling off.

I got to the train station in time for the 11:30 train to Montreal but it was fully booked; with the next one after 3. So with almost 4 hours to kill I went and hung out in a cool shopping centre downtown. That's when I remembered I didn't have directions to the Montreal hostel so I popped into the Apple Shop to use their wireless internet (thanks for the tip Em!) on my iPod Touch. In the store at the same time was an Aussie girl I met in the restaurant car on the train between Vancouver and Edmonton. I went to say hello. Her aunt (predictably) commented “small world” as to the story, but it really is. The small world experiences are starting to not even surprise me. So far I've met Melburnians I know at Whistler, and in Alberta I met a girl who was a student of my chiropractor friend in Melbourne.

I'm writing this from my seat on the train to Montreal. The train is modern and fast, even with a power plug for my laptop; a far jump from the 1950's train experience I had for the 4 days across the main part of the continent. In three hours I should be disembarking in Quebec's biggest city. It is also Canada's 2nd biggest city and the 2nd largest city in the world after Paris for French-speakers. Should be fun.

Winnipeg to Toronto

Winnipeg wasn't my typical travel destination. For a start it was a bit of downtime: it was an opportunity to wash some clothes and watch some movies in the hostel. It was also different because I actually went into an art gallery. As you know, I typically don't partake in those touristy favourite activities like museums and galleries (normally opting for cultural hubs like pubs), but apparently the Winnipeg Art Gallery was having a family day with free entry so I gave it a go. I actually enjoyed it.

I was a little bit worried that I would die of boredom on my 31 hour train ride from Winnipeg to Toronto, which involves crossing about half of Canada. I considered upgrading to Silver and Blue class again, but decided it didn't justify the CAD $275 expense.

As soon as the train had crossed the border from Manitoba to Ontario, both the scenery and weather changed. Dull orange plains were replaced by small rocky hills covered in birch and pine trees, and then, after a few miles lakes. Thousands and thousands of them. All the way to the Toronto outskirts we were passing lakes, ranging in sizes from ponds to huge bays where you can barely see the other side.

The weather change I mentioned was that the sun came out, and for the first time since my last day at Whistler I saw clear blue skies and sunshine. It was an instant good impression of Ontario. And as we got deeper into Ontario, the lakes changed too. As we progressed East, the lakes became less and less frozen. From icy white lakes near the Manitoba border to deep blue waterways closer to Toronto.

Me decision not to upgrade was a good one. I slept like a baby for more than 10 hours on my two seats. Every time I woke up, the train would rock me back to sleep. I even fell asleep several times again the next day.

The time passed surprisingly quickly. I had a sleep, a book, iPod and computer to entertain me, as well as food from the coffee shop car, and overall the 31 hours went quickly. I've had uni lectures which have felt longer!

As we arrived through Toronto's sprawling suburbs, just as it was getting dark, I spotted a sign displaying the temperature. 17 degrees C, after dark. I had returned to a warm climate. It made me smile.

Tomorrow I hope to go on the CN Tower, and after a few days in Toronto I plan on crossing the border to French-speaking Quebec and visiting Montreal.

Cities in the Prairies

Edmonton. A quiet city, in the middle of nowhere. It is 300km North of Calgary, the nearest other city. My guide book said not to go there, but said that if I am stopping over for a night, I should be able to entertain myself.

Well, I was stopping over for 3 nights, because it is 3 days between trains out here in the Wild West.

Wild is the operative word. Apparently, Edmonton gets some very harsh winters. Minus 30 to minus 40 is not uncommon, and add to that the howling wind from the arctic. Not very pleasant. I wonder how the people here survive the winter. Enter Edmonton's solution: The West Edmonton Mall. A huge, sanctuary for Edmontonians to escape the reality of outside life.

It is the world's largest shopping mall. It has shops. Lots of them, including 8 department stores. But that's only the beginning. Let me list of few of the other features of the mall:
- A regulation ice hockey ice skating rink
- A huge swimming area featuring a wave pool and lots of water slides, comparable to the Gold Coast's Wet'n'Wild water park. With a bungee jumping tower too of course.
- A sea lion and dolphin under water area, with numerous daily shows
- A theme park with lots of rides, including two big rollercoasters, one with lots of loops. In fact, the largest indoor rollercoaster in the world.
- A decent sized casino
- 2 mini golf courses and go karts
- A mall area themed like Bourbon Street in New Orleans featuring restaurants and bars
- It's own Chinatown
- And of course your typical shopping mall supplements like cinemas, food courts, etc., except bigger than most.

I had treated myself in Edmonton a dorm with only 2 beds (luxury for a backpacker) and got lucky, being the only person in the room for the first 2 nights. It was my first opportunity to sleep somewhere private since I left Melbourne, and it was good! I woke up in the afternoon of my first full day in Edmonton and spent the rest of the day in the West Ed Mall.

The weather was quite mild on the first day, so on my second day in Edmonton I put on my jumper and went to walk downtown to check out some sites. The mere jumper was a big mistake! It was absurdly cold. As I walked over the high level bridge over the river, I thought I was going to freeze. It was somewhere around zero degrees, plus or minus a couple of notches, not taking into account the spine chilling wind-chill factor. I persevered though, and was relieved when I got to my destination: An old cafe called Bistro Praha. It is a Czech restaurant which I read about in my guide book. So I went in and had a nice hot goulash just like my mum makes, and a pilsner, to warm me up. I was good to go again. But this time I thought "when in Rome...." and caught the bus to the West Ed Mall for the rest of the afternoon.

It seemed to be where the town's teenagers like to spend their Friday night. Galaxy Land, the theme park with the roller coasters, which was pretty much empty on my first visit, now had 300m queue of 13 year olds waiting to get in.

But my Friday night was to be spent in the old Strathcona area, where my hostel was. It is an old street just out of the downtown area, and seemingly the place with the largest concentration of bars and pubs. My sort of place! I went back to the hostel and rallied some troops together to go out. It was an open invite but I only managed to recruit Australians, so I went out on the town with 3 other Aussies guys. At times I'm frustrated about the fact that wherever I go, I always see mainly other Australians, but they can usually be relied on for a good time.

I remembered to bring a warm jacket this time. Good thing, too, because as we walked down the street in the literally freezing temperatures, it began to snow. It was nice.

The next morning I woke up disappointed that now snow had been left on the ground. Edmonton gets cold, but there is not much precipitation,

It was check out day, so I got my stuff together and decided to go and feel sorry for my sick stomach in the common room. I was so focused on uploading my photos and writing this blog, that I hadn't noticed it snowing away outside again. When it came to going out to get some supplies for the train trip, the city was already under a few centimeters of snow. I went out and loved walking around in the freshly fallen snow. The city, which I didn't think much of in terms of appearance initially, was suddenly a nice clean bright shiny place.

I guess snow appeals to us Aussies, but the Canadians don't agree with me. When I reflected upon my joy of seeing the snow fall, they responded with stories of what a snowy winter it has been for them. How sick they get of constantly shoveling meters of snow away just to get to their front doors.

The snow has other down sides too. For example, I almost get run over by a bus. I wanted to cross a main road so I pressed the button and waited for the little green man... or, rather, white man, as is the case in North America. As the white man appeared I was about to walk, but down the outside lane coming towards the crossing was a bus. It was honking. I was wondering why the bus was honking but thought nothing much of it and was about to step out onto the road. Then it hit me! Not the bus, but the realisation that the reason the bus was honking was because he knew he wasn't going to be able to stop on the snowy road in time to not go over the pedestrian crossing. I didn't step out and live to tell story.

I headed off to the station to catch my train to Winnipeg that evening. It was nice zooming through the snow flurries, watching through the window on the warm train. I had not upgraded this time, but my trip in cattle class was fine, because the train was quite empty, and I had met a nice German girl in the hostel who was catching the same train. We managed to get a rare 4 seater area on the train normally reserved only for groups of 2 or more traveling together, and had a comfortable journey. I might have even slept better than in my sleeper class.

The next morning on the train, as we zoomed through the flatlands of Saskatchewan and Manitoba, the scenery was a lot less interesting. The prairies were just lots of yellow fields, not too different to traveling through the dry Australian countryside.

I arrived in Winnipeg around lunch time and took the opportunity to have a look around. For the first time in Canada, I was quite unimpressed. It was a small city and completely uninteresting. And to make matters worse, dirty. There was rubbish flying around downtown streets and layers of dirt on the footpaths. Perhaps it was just because the cold winter had passed and the city hasn't had its spring clean, but either way it didn't inspire me very much.

As I typed this blog tonight I had a Swiss girl next to me, who was complaining that she is stuck here till Friday, and was afraid to go out around here due to stories of the place being dangerous. I didn't find it to appear too dangerous but admittedly there were some seedy types around, and so far it is the only place in Canada I had been approached by someone to buy drugs.

In the last two days I have seen about six movies on VHS in the hostel and have slept in a lot. Perhaps being in a town you don't like too much is a good excuse for some down time while traveling.

Tomorrow I leave Winnipeg. It may be a 32 hour train journey, but I look forward to it.

The Canadian through the Rockies

On my last morning in Vancouver I had a sleep in, packed my backpack (including my 3 cans of undrunken beer) then watched a 1970's movie in the TV room and eventually decided I should actually do something active with my last day. So I went on a long walk including crossing 2 of Vancouver's big bridges and checking out the Granville Island Market. Then it was time to go. I grabbed my pack and caught the SkyTrain to Vancouver's Pacific Central Station. It is an old historic station, with a big hall, very much like you would see in the movies. I checked in and retrieved my CanRail pass (which entitles me to 12 days of unlimited travel on Canada's national rail network within 30 days). For the first leg of my journey, a 23 hour journey through the Canadian Rockies to Edmonton, I decided to treat myself with a sleeper, which also automatically entitled me to “Silver and Blue” treatment – VIARail's first class service. So off I went to the Silver and Blue departure lounge.

If I was to use one word to describe the next 24 hours, it would probably be “wow.” (Either that, or “train.”)

The rail journey (route from Vancouver to Toronto, known as “The Canadian”) commenced with the Silver and Blue class passengers being invited to the “Club car” at the back of the train for complimentary Champagne and fingerfood. The club car was a bar and lounge, with stairs to the roof, to the viewing dome, from which you could see 360 degrees including the front of the train winding ahead. I would spend a lot of the journey in this viewing dome.

The train was nothing like Europe's high speed inter city trains. It is more of an antique. The carriages were from the 1950's, restored and refurbished. The club car lounge had an art deco design. Since stepping foot in the station, I felt like I was catapulted a number of decades into the past. The only thing missing was a steam engine at the front of the train (it was pulled by two diesel locomotives)

The train left Vancouver and made it's way into the Rockies just as it got dark. Dinner was shortly served in the dining car. The dining car was another step back in time. A bronze coloured décor, with lots of tables each seating four and having a big window to look out of. Service was excellent and the three-course-meals were good restaurant quality. Customers in not already in groups of 4 were seated with other guests by the the waiters, so there was always someone to talk to.

During dinner the sleeper rooms, which during the day were sitting rooms, were converted to their sleeper form. I didn't have a private room, but rather what they called an “upper berth”. This was a seat bay in the first class section which at night would convert to an upper and lower bunk. The bed in my upper bunk was actually bigger than the beds in the private or family sleepers, and I had a hammock above as shelving for my bags and personal items. I went to bed at 1am and drifted off to sleep to the rocking motion of the train. I woke up a lot of times during the night due to sharp turns, sudden stops or just people out in the hallway beyond my curtain separating my berth, but overall it was a decent sleep.

I woke up for the umpteenth time at 7am and was about to go back to sleep when I decide to peek outside at the scenery. I could see snow on the ground, and this excited me enough to get out of bed, have a shower, go to the restaurant car for cooked breakfast, and move on into the viewing dome for views of the Rockies winding by.

The train could only go quite slowly through these mountain ranges, and would also often come to stop to let freght trains past. But there was no rush when you had the constant views of frozen lakes, towering mountains, snowy pine forests and crystal clear creeks.

There were plenty of people to talk to as everyone was friendly. The patrons were mostly old couples but there were a few young people and some families as well. Canadians (mostly French-speaking), Americans, English, and of course a few token Aussies (can't go anywhere without Aussies!)

Just before lunch we stopped off in Jasper, a small town in the middle of the huge Jasper National Park. I went out for a stroll but was happy to get back into the train to escape the 2C temperature.

I was warmed up by soup and a delicious roast beef sandwich in the dining car for lunch. I watched the countryside and participated in wildlife spotting. Apparently the engineers at the front of the train had spotted a bear at the side of the track, but by the time the dining car had made it to that point the bear had gone down an embankment. The only animals I got to see apart from ducks were the native American mountain sheep scampering on the rocks above the train.

Up to this point it had been cloudy, which was a shame because some of the highest mountains in the Rockies were not visible past their base due to the clouds. But then the clouds broke and we continued on through the end of Rockies and the start of the prairies in nice warm sunshine. The sunshine through the dome roof and the rocking of the train put me to sleep again in my seat and before I knew it it was time for me to disembark in Edmonton.

Prior to planning this trip, I had never heard of Edmonton. I just picked it as a place to stop off because it was the most sizable city between Winnipeg and Vancouver on the train line. It is a city about 300km North of Calgary in the province of Alberta, and is comparable in size to Adelaide.

The railway station is out of the way in Edmonton. My hostel directions told me to walk 4 blocks and then catch 2 buses. So I started my walk from the train station and a big white van stopped by to offer me a lift. Still being in big city mode, I politely refused the assistance on account of not wanting to be hacked up into a million pieces. But upon reflection, and several strangers making conversation with me just on on my bus rides, I realised that this is probably a genuinely friendly place, and I could have accepted that lift, and saved myself a long wait for the buses.

I have now checked into my hostel – the only one in town – and will tomorrow probably go check out Edmonton's main attraction: the West Edmonton Mall – the world's biggest indoor shopping center (sic). You might legitimately ask why a city the size of Adelaide needs the world's biggest shopping center (sic); I asked that on the train. Apparently the winter here is so unbearable, the people need indoor entertainment. I'll report on what I find there, but supposedly it comes complete with a wave pool, amongst other things. I have 3 days in Edmonton until the next Eastbound Canadian service comes through town to pick me up and take me through the prairies.

Vancouver

The Greyhound service from Whistler to Vancouver again provided some magnificent views of mountains, seas, forests and lakes.

I checked into the SameSun hostel in Vancouver, on slightly seedy but cool Granville Street; surrounded by clubs, venues and lots and lots of pizza shops. There are probably about 5 pizza shops within viewing distance of the hostel, all selling large $1.49 pizza slices. Vancuvrians (?) must really like pizza!!!

The hostel itself was interesting. My room was very basic: nothing but 2 bunk beds in bare room, and very messy / not very clean looking. I lay down on my bunk bed, exhausted from walking around the city with my backpack on, looking for the hostel (I followed my guidebook's version of where the hostel is which took me to the wrong end of town). Looking at the room, I thought this is what it must be like being in jail. But then I remembered the key difference, I can leave the room. So I did. The hostel came with it's own bar downstairs, called “The Beaver”. The slogan was “Be Canadian. Eat (at the) Beaver.” The “at the” was small print. The best thing about eating (at the) Beaver was the fact that they had nightly $4 meal specials, which on the first night was lasagna, second night Sunday roast and on my last night “West coast” fish and chips. Now that's what I call backpacker priced meals.

I spent my days in Vancouver shopping (first day) and sightseeing (second day). My sightseeing walk of about 5 hours took me along the famous Sea Wall all around Vancouver and the world class urban park Stanley Park, and all through the park itself.

Stanley park really is an amazing place. It is a big park right beside downtown Vancouver on one side, and surrounded by water on the 3 other sides. Walking through it you would swear you are not in the city. It feels like remote forest, lush, green and full of animals. The only sign of the city are the frequent sea landing planes zooming across the park, taking off from one of the waterways just North of Vancouver's downtown.

One of the coolest things about Vancouver is that you can almost always see mountains hiding behind the city's skylines, with their peaks still covered with snow. So you can be on a street surrounded by high rise buildings, but look down the street and see the harbour, and behind the harbour a towering, snowy mountain. But despite the snowy mountain scenery, it was nice and sunny, and 2 of my 3 days here were T-shirt weather.

My overall impression of Vancouver is that is a nice, clean place. In contrast to the US cities I have seen, it certainly feels cleaner, nicer and safer.

On my last night after the ritual meal in the bar I headed out to the local casino. I'd saved so much on buying $4 dinners that I had the urge to lose some money. Which I managed to do nicely. Though I was impressed with the 50 cent roulette tables! This morning I have checked out and am hanging around the hostel before I embark on my train journey across Canada, which departs at 5:30 in the evening.