Back in Canada

Happy new year and greetings from beautiful Victoria, British Columbia in a Canada. I'm back in BC for the first time since April 2008. Tomorrow I head up to return to Whistler for some skiing.

When I get back to London I plan on writing my travel summary for 2013. Talk soon!

Flashback to the Rocky Mountains

I spent another evening in Windows Movie Maker last night. I complied some footage I took on my train from Vancouver to Edmonton, the first leg of my train journey across Canada last year.

This was the result:



For more detail on the overall journey, check out the older blog posts from April 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.

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.

Whistler

My last night in Seattle, a Saturday night, was meant to be spent going out and enjoying the vibrant nightlife downtown Seattle has to offer. I met some people to go out with but it wasn't to be, because the 31 year old American had lost his ID (they check everyone for ID), an Aussie girl was being stalked by some local gangs and was too afraid to go out,and there were some 19 year olds, which of course in the USA is underage. So we stayed an partied in the hostel.

The Green Tortoise Hostel in Seattle is one of the best places I've ever stayed in. Spotless showers are a luxury when you're hosteling it. Seattle was meant to be a pass-through city for me, but it turns out to be a really interesting place, with heaps to do, so I wish I had arranged to stay longer. But how could I be sad to leave when I was heading on to Whistler Village, British Columbia, to ski North America's premier ski resort, Whistler Blackcomb.

The six or seven hours from Seattle to Whistler went surprisingly quickly, thanks to catching up on sleep, chatting to fellow Aussies from the hostel and a border crossing from the USA. The US customs officials (with guns, of course) were surprisingly full on coming out of the US, asking all sorts of questions of most of the people on the bus. But they mainly picked on the black man. His bag was the only one they searched, asking “do you have any drugs in here?” as they opened it.

The service from Seattle terminated in Vancouver, where I had to change to another bus. A good American bloke which some girls from my hostel and I met on the bus was kind enough to offer us some of the cheap duty free beers he bought on the border which we subtly (ok, maybe not so subtly) drank in the Vancouver train station McDonald's. He was headed to Whistler as well, so gave me some tips on the way up as well as an initial tour on arrival. The trip up itself was great, with amazing views of lakes and snow-capped mountains all the way up!

When I arrived I met up with my friends Amanda and Jayson, who had flown to British Columbia from London to go skiing.

Together we had booked a small townhouse apartment, complete with 2 balconies overlooking snowy mountain ranges, one with a hot tub!

The week was spent skiing the vast terrain of the dual Whistler and Blackcomb Mountains. Each mountain feels like its 4 times the size of Mount Hotham (for those Aussie skiers), and there's 2 of them!

One of the highlights was skiing the run which will be the Men's downhill race run for the 2010 Vancouver/Whistler Winter Olympics.

The night life in the Village was surprisingly quiet, probably due to the fact it was the end of the season. This time of the year normally brings little snow, but we were lucky as the mountain still had excellent snow cover (2.6 metres). We were usually so exhausted after a day of skiing the vast terrain though, that we were happy to have some drinks in our private hot-tub instead of hitting the town every night.

During my last 2 days on the mountain we got to sample the World Ski and Snowboard Festival in the village, which involved all sorts of festivities including band performances on big stages with the snowy mountains as a backdrop.

Today it was time to depart Whistler. I spent the morning hanging out in the Village, enjoying some really warm weather (sunny T-shirt weather) and checking out the goings-on of the festival. Then caught the greyhound back to Vancouver for the next set of Canadian adventures!