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.
Where in the World is DK?
25 May 2008
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.
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.
20 May 2008
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.
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.
13 May 2008
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.
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.
09 May 2008
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.
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!
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!
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