Well my readers, here we are again. Not only at the start of an issue of my Adventures but also at the start of a final issue. Not ‘the’ final issue I should hurriedly mention but still the last of my Adventures in Canada. Don’t be downhearted though as there are ‘oh so many’ things that I got up to between first arriving in Toronto and leaving there for the last time, and of course they are all detailed right here for your delight in this bumper sized issue. So without any further ado, lets get stuck in.
I finished off last time by explaining that my arrival in Toronto was sooner than I had intended and that my departure from it was later than I intended. Well I arrived there to find it pretty hot and humid (although less so than Ottawa) and wandered between the modern glass and steel skyscrapers to find my hostel (which I was relieved to discover had air conditioning, I think I am getting soft) and settled in. The hostel here was a bit of an anomaly as it was one of very few that I had stayed at in Canada that in some way resembled the hostels of elsewhere in the world (such as OZ for example). I feel that hosteling/backpacking will probably always be different in Canada than elsewhere partly due to the climate and the seasons and a less established tourist industry. Anyway on the face of it this hostel seemed oddly familiar and I was encouraged as it suggested a more social atmosphere. Sadly it was a front, none of the events advertised happened when they were supposed to, if at all, and consequently were poorly attended which in combination with other factors made the place a touch disappointing. As I mentioned at the end of Part 4 though my mate Fate was going to pay me a visit soon but before it did I had a bit of an explore of the city and then found some other backpackers (Australians mostly) who were going out to see what the bars of Queen Street had to offer, so I tagged along. The evening ended in the morning and so quite predictably I awoke quite late the next day and once I had I set about the task of penning some of my adventures in the hostel kitchen. The kitchen in question was in the basement and for some reason there was always drops of water falling from the ceiling, I don’t know if there was a leak somewhere or if it was condensation but in any case I digress. As I sat deftly switching between deep though and the perusal of my notes and references (something which I had been doing for quite some time) one of my fellow pawns in Fates great chess game walked in. The pawn in question was Liz, one of the English-folk I had first met in Whitehorse with whom I had endured that 2 day bus ride back to Vancouver. Although this was an excellent surprise it was a surprise none the less as I recalled her stated plan would put her elsewhere, but then of course I hadn’t expected to be in Toronto right then either, hmm…
As it turned out Liz wasn’t to be in Toronto for very long but before she left we did at least manage to go off and see the CN tower together. The CN tower, as all of you should know, is to Toronto what the Eiffel Tower is to Paris. Unlike the Eiffel Tower it was built for practical purposes by broadcasting companies needing a better transmission antenna (a function that it still provides) and is also (quite incidentally it would seem) the tallest man made structure in the world. Upon our arrival at its base I was pleased that there was no one queuing out of the door like I had seen earlier that day and so we joined the very slow lift queue inside. After what seemed like an age it turned out that the lift is a super fast lift and gets you up the 346m to the look out level in a mere 15 seconds, so why had we waited so long? Anyway thanks to Liz’s foresight we had managed to arrive at the top just before sunset, giving us enough time to stand on and look down through a section of glass floor and do a few circuits of the gallery to see the city, lake and islands before taking some risky photos of the sun setting through glass smeared with the finger grease of a thousand children. All in all a good experience but I did feel it was a touch pricey. Well, during my extended stay in Toronto I had made some plans and enquiries about my onward journey which seemed all rather complicated all of a sudden but I had a concrete reservation in my next port of call so I said goodbye to Liz once more and set off to Montreal. I arrived just as it was getting dark and had to navigate (with an expectably terrible map) for a couple of miles across town avoiding kamikaze drivers. It was hot and muggy and after carrying my pack for what seemed like forever I was very glad indeed to get to the hostel and to get some dinner. That night I slept poorly due to two Japanese guys in my room snoring in tandem but slightly out of phase with each other. Anyway, morning finally arrived and I set off out into the heat not to look around but instead to try to sort out unduly complicated bus ticketing issues that would allow me to continue travelling eastwards later that week. After a lot of walking and talking to people behind glass who couldn’t hear me properly I eventually unravelled the conundrum and got my ticket converted to tokens for use on the non-Greyhound coaches that serviced all points east. All of this had taken quite a chunk out of the day but I did manage to get a bit of a look around too. My overall impression of Montreal was that it was a much more European type city than elsewhere in Canada which is perhaps only to be expected on account of it being in Quebec. This presented itself not only in the architecture but also in the less regular road layout, maniac drivers and generally a bit more of a buzz about the place. I headed down towards the St Lawrence River to discover some very ugly old industrial buildings before reaching a small pretty area known as ‘Old Montreal’. This was a pleasant place for a wander and had some nice buildings and churches to look at and even the occasional cobbled street, it was a shame that there wasn’t all that much of it.
For reasons too dull to mention I wasn’t to be in Montreal for very long which meant there were things to do and see there that I didn’t get around to, but I suppose it’s good to leave some stones unturned so that I have a reason to go back some other time. The city I was heading to next, one that I had found it unduly tricky to reach, was Halifax in Nova Scotia. Halifax if a rather nice little city which I suppose some might even describe as quaint (not a term I like to use myself) and is also on the east coast of Canada therefore completing my coast to coast crossing of the country. I spent a couple of days exploring the town and enjoying the slightly lower temperatures and reduced humidity of the coast, finding various points of interest as I went. These included the old British hilltop fortress rather romantically known as the ‘Citadel’ and the picturesque harbour with its tourist boutiques, tall ships and numerous curiously decorated lobster sculptures (at least two of them were wearing kilts). Halifax was to be my base for exploring Nova Scotia but the area is poorly served with backpacker type accommodation and transport links don’t always get you to the places you want to see so I booked myself on a tour so as to get around as much of the place as I could. The next morning I was up and packed bright and early to meet the rest of my tour group and set off south down the coast to the picture postcard fishing hamlet of Peggy’s Cove. Here we all got to photograph the locally famous lighthouse (which is also a post office) and wander about on the granite rocks looking for seals, of which I spotted only one. Further down the south coast we arrived at the larger settlement of Lunenburg. This place was also pretty picturesque and had also been a fishing village, originally founded by Swiss and German Protestants in 1753 although these days like so many fishing communities it survives by luring tourists to come and see its brightly painted wooden harbour-front buildings and to wander around enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. From here we headed further inland to the Kejimkujik National Park where we had the chance to hire either canoes or kayaks and head out onto the huge lake. I opted for the kayak and although it took me a while to get back into the swing of it I was soon up to speed. It was a gorgeous sunny day and our miniature flotilla paddled and splashed its way across one corner of the lake (that was so big you couldn’t see the other side) and arrived at a small beach of coarse sand. After a brief stop it was back out on the lake to paddle around an island, or at least our cocksure but poorly informed guide through it was an island, sadly it turned out to be just a bit of the edge of the lake that jutted out. Anyway it was all good fun even if it did mean getting wet (something to which I am occasionally and quite inexplicable averse).
After spending a little more time absorbing the scenery and beaches around the lake we continued our tour to a small laid back town situated between the Annapolis River and its tributary the Allain River, that went by the name of Annapolis Royal. Whilst a very pleasant spot in its own right we had principally stopped there to buy supplies of food and drink for later that evening. We were to be staying the night in a partially renovated (and partially dilapidated) farm house that if I remember correctly was the property of the aunt of one of the tour guides. In any case, despite its potential for repair it was the perfect location for the evening ahead. This started with group cooking, an activity that in my experience is best avoided wherever possible (so I kept out of the way - opting for group washing-up instead) but on this occasion it all seemed to work out rather well. It has to be said (and I am not too sure how it happens) that whenever there is food left over after everyone has had enough but it ‘has to be eaten or else it will be thrown away’ it always ends up on my plate. I’m not exactly complaining but I must have ended up getting four helpings and I only remember asking for two, and it happened again at dessert. The farmhouse did have electricity and running water but this was about it so for the rest of the evening the entertainment was up to us. Well we had a campfire and dragged some old sofas around it and then of course there was beer. There was guitar playing and singing and the telling of jokes, although after a time it seemed that the greatest source of amusement for us (certain Germans in particular) was the accent and antics of our Scottish group member. I have to say that it was a good evening and an unusually excellent group too, I laughed so much that night that my jaw ached for the whole of the next day. Considering how late most of us went to bed it was perhaps fortunate that the first part of the next day involved driving over a hundred kilometres north-ish to the university town known these days as Wolfville but originally called Mud Creek. Apparently the daughter of a local dignitary (Justice DeWolf) complained that the name sounded embarrassingly hick and so he generously renamed it after himself. Once again the main reason for stopping was to get picnic supplies before continuing on to the red coast of the Bay of Fundy. After a pleasant wander about on the slightly slushy red sands between crumbling cliffs and gentle ocean it was off in the bus again to tour a local winery. I am no expert on wine and as far as I am aware Canada isn’t particularly famous for it so it was interesting to get to sample their range. To me most of them just tasted like wine (which is a good start) but there were two that were sufficiently distinct to leave a more substantial impression. The first of these was what was called an Ice Wine, something to do with the grapes being frozen by frost on the vine producing more sugar in the grape and therefore a different wine, it wasn’t bad for a white wine but it was pretty expensive. The other one that I will never forget was the maple wine, one of far too many products in Canada polluted with maple syrup. Well, it was very sweet and I suppose if you love maple syrup you might like this stuff but I thought it was pretty incredibly nasty. From here we were meant to have the chance to go ‘River Tubing’, which involves going down a river in an inflated inner tube, but it was cancelled due to the hydroelectric company turning off the river, so instead it was just back to Halifax. Here some of our group departed but others would in a day or two’s time be back together for the other half of the tour covering a more northerly area.
Whilst back in Halifax those of us that remained together took the opportunity to explore some of the local pubs and experience some of the local live music acts in a place called the Split Crow. After this respite from hot cramped minibus travel it was time to join a new group and head off once more. We were headed right up to the northern part of Nova Scotia called Cape Breton Island but stopped along the way for a picnic by the coast. After lunch our guide (who often displayed childlike characteristics) challenged us to a stone skimming contest. I was surprised to discover that there were members of the group who had never done this before and so they were given a crash course in hunting for good stones and in the skimming technique. Perhaps because of these inexperienced contenders or perhaps due to luck I was triumphant and would be awarded the prize of an ice cream at our next port of call. The port of call in question was a bit of an oddity as it was little more than a cafe on the side of the road next to a field. It sold ice cream of course but apparently made more money from its field of scarecrows these days. The scarecrows were all different, some dressed as policemen or farmers or even the royal family and there was a scarecrow wedding and scarecrow children at play - it was a little bit freakish to be honest. Since arriving in Canada I have noticed that they seem to have quite a lot of crows, certainly more than I see around England but as if proof of their worth whilst stood among the scarecrows I didn’t see or hear a single one. Leaving this behind we continued on, looking out for the moose that we had been semi-assured would be likely to be wandering across the road. Well we didn’t see any live ones but we did see one dead on the side of the road. It was a pity for the others that we wouldn’t be seeing any moose on the whole trip as the area is renowned for how many of them there are and how dangerous it can be driving (especially at night) with them wandering about. I had seen moose before on my trip up to Whitehorse but it would have been nice to see more. The next stop was something else I had done before as we arrived at a place to go whale watching, as this activity wasn’t included in the tour I opted out and headed back to the hostel to cook my dinner. All the others would be eating the very cheap local lobsters for dinner but not being a fan of sea food even when it is a complete bargain I opted out of that as well. It was another late night around the campfire followed by a seemingly too early morning that unfortunately was shrouded in fog. The plan had been to head off and have a bit of a wander along part of the scenic Cabot Trail (another possible chance to see some wildlife) but long before we got there it seemed unlikely that it would be a good idea. We forged ahead regardless in the wholly vain hope that by the time we got there it might have cleared but if anything it got worse, so bad in fact that you could only see maybe five or ten meters ahead. This left a bit of a hole in the schedule so some of the group opted for a much shorter walk elsewhere and I joined those who fancied a look around the ‘whale interpretative centre’ where I learned a fair bit about whales and their history and their likely demise brought on by the human race.
That evening there was no campfire as we had to hide inside to try and escape the clouds of big slow mosquito’s. In their favour these flying nuisances were some of the largest and easiest to swat of all the mozzies I have encountered but they made up for this by sheer weight of numbers. Anyway it made a change to spend the night playing cards instead. The next day involved quite a bit of travelling as we were to leave Nova Scotia and cross the Northumberland Strait to a province generally referred to as PEI as it is presumably too much like hard work to say Prince Edward Island all the time. It was a lovely sunny day for a ferry ride its just a pity that there had to be live music on the deck provided by a man and his guitar belting out dreadful sentimentalist songs of his own creation describing various mishaps that I can only assume judging from the pained expression on his face that he had himself experienced. Our target on PEI was its administrative centre, a town by the name of Charlottetown. It’s a pleasant little place and easily navigable by the tourist by using the often visible spires of St Dunstan’s Basilica as a reference point. We didn’t get a lot of time to explore the town and to be fair we didn’t make very good use of the time that we had as the general feeling of the part of the group with whom I was allied felt that exploring Charlottetown’s pubs would be a good way to get a feel for the place. Anyway, all too soon it was time for us to meet up with the whole group again for dinner at a restaurant called Fish Bones, which unsurprisingly sold a lot of fish. It was a nice place and a great evening but certainly outside my usual price range - oh well. That night we were staying in the local university halls of residence, currently devoid of students on account of it being the summer holidays. It was a bit weird to be back in halls, reminding me of my own university days, as it would seem that they are pretty much the same the world over. Due to the distances needing to be covered we didn’t get the chance to spend any more time in Charlottetown the next morning as we were to head back in the direction of Halifax but not via the ferry this time. Driving 60km west to a place called Borden we re-crossed the strait via the very new and very expensive Confederation Bridge. It is supposed to have cost about one billion dollars (presumably an American billion, not a British one) and is 12.8km long which whilst pretty impressive it is actually only the 3rd longest bridge in the world. The other two that are longer than it however both use a man made island at some point along the way which some (Canadians) claim make them dual span bridges which would conveniently make this the longest one. No one else agrees though so they have settled for referring to it as the longest bridge over sea ice in the world, not that there was any ice when I saw it as it was summer. The rest of the day was spent absorbing the scenery on the return trip to Halifax whilst trying to ignore the heat inside the bus. I dallied in Halifax for a while longer mainly just to hang out with some of the new friends I had made on the tour, and Halifax is a pretty nice place to waste time. We spent a lot of evenings playing cards and during the days managed to find our way to the very pristine public gardens where a large brass band played a medley of contemporary tunes from the band stand. We also milled about around the harbour where I noticed the looming presence of the Greenpeace ship doubtless stopping off on its way to some crusade or other.
All good things come to an end and eventually I had to leave the pretty pleasantness of Nova Scotia behind and return west to Toronto in one long 26 hour slog. Once back I was instantly immersed in the hot muggy smelly air and I at once wished that I was back in Halifax or nearly anywhere else. The longer I spent in Toronto the less I liked the place although a great deal of this was due to the unusually hot weather. Naturally my preferred style of travel means that as and when I want to move on I just make a few calls and off I go, so I made the calls and off I went. Arriving at Niagara in the afternoon I dumped my pack in the hostel and set off on the half hour walk to find the falls. I had seen these falls on the telly on countless occasions and it was a place I had wanted to go to mostly just so that I can say that I have been there. So many people seem to have been that I suppose I just felt left out. My initial impression was that it was smaller than I had expected. I think when they put it on the TV they must zoom right into it making it look bigger than it does from the rivers edge. I was amazed at the huge numbers of people that were suddenly everywhere and also enjoyed the coolness of the tall plume of mist that is sent up by the crashing water. The early evening light also, via this mist, created some fantastic rainbows. Returning the next day I decided to explore the town as having seen the falls on the TV so many times and never knowing there even was a town it made me curious. I think I had imagined that the falls were just sat there and that there was nothing else around. I was wrong. The area just back from the river near to the falls is like a mini Vegas (not that I have been to Vegas) there is hardly a single building that doesn’t have some kind of excessive decoration. There was one moulded like a toppled Empire State building with King Kong scaling it. There was a Burger King with a huge green Frankenstein eating an equally huge burger. There were any number of ghosts and ghouls and dinosaurs and cartoon characters. It was definitely not what I was expecting but it was rather fun and also kind of funny. Returning to the river I thought I should give the falls one more chance to impress me so I got a ticket for the ‘Maid of the Mist’ boat ride. I was handed a transparent blue rain Mac made of plastic the thickness of a cheap supermarket carrier bag which I pulled over my head before managing to get a prime spot at the front of the boat. Basically it was just a short trip up to the base of the falls during which time you got drenched by all the spray (or Mist) and in the process got a much closer look at the falls which I have to say do seem much bigger and more impressive when your almost underneath them. With that done you might think I had exhausted all that there was to do with Niagara Falls but no, there’s more. Back at the hostel there was advertised an evening walk to go back to the falls. What for? Well at night huge spotlights are shone at the cascades through coloured filters producing a rather pretty effect although it does attract an unfortunate number of moths which tend to land all over you. Then to finish the night off there was a fireworks display. So now I really had done it all.
Back in Toronto for the third time and the atmosphere was still oppressive but there was one place nearby that offered some relief and also some great views of the Toronto skyline. A short stroll down to the lake shore and a refreshingly breezy ferry ride landed me on the Toronto Islands. These days the islands are basically a huge park in the lake but they started out as a sandbar peninsular until a powerful storm in 1858 cut it off from the mainland. It is in some ways the closest thing Toronto has to a Stanley Park and if I lived or worked in Toronto I think I would nip over to them as often as I could. A great place to stroll or laze about on the beaches and all the better for there being no motor vehicles allowed. The air is cooler and cleaner smelling and there is space and a degree of quiet.
Now as some of you will remember me mentioning I would be leaving Canada from Toronto and having returned there after Niagara I was all set to leave the country, but not to return home, instead I had arranged a trip across the boarder. Those of you who have been reading my Adventures from their humble beginnings back in OZ will recall a friend I first made in Melbourne and later went to visit in Ohio. Well Emily now lives in the heart of New York city and seeing as I was (comparatively) so close and I had the time to spare it would have been a terrible waste of an opportunity had I not paid her a visit. Obviously it also meant I would get to spend a few days having a nosy around the big apple so it was a win win situation. The bus journey to get there seemed to be taking forever and wasn’t made any quicker by the customs checks when crossing the boarder. This would have been slow and tedious had it all gone to plan but of course it didn’t and the computer system they use decided to crash just as they were trying to process me. Anyway it all got sorted out in the end and we didn’t actually arrive late so it was all good. My first challenge once I arrived was to chart a course through the gargantuan bus terminal that must surely rival Heathrow in its scale. After a lot of toing and froing I managed to get out of the building and met up with Emily. Now considering that these Adventures are supposed to be Canadian and that this is pretty long already I hope Emily will forgive me for somewhat summarising the NY part of the Adventure, I don’t wish to suggest by doing so that it deserves to be summarised because it doesn’t. I had arrived at night but fortunately I had also arrived in the city that never sleeps so after dumping my stuff at Emily’s domicile she took me right back out to see Time Square at night lit up with all its video screens and LED advertising boards. It amused me slightly that the police station at Time Square (which incidentally isn’t a square) had got into the spirit of the place and had an illuminated neon sign. I was then taken to eat at ‘Bubba Gumps’ a restaurant themed on the film Forrest Gump, it was cool but need I say “only in America”. Then it was a quick cruise around some bustling streets dropping into a bar or two. Fortunately for me Emily’s work schedule was pretty flexible so she was able to play tour guide for the whole of the next couple of days and we certainly got around a lot of that city. So the grand tour had begun and it was cleverly routed to allow for the seemingly accidental passings of all of New York’s female footware emporia - weird huh? On that first full day we passed the stock exchange, ground zero (where the World Trade Centre once stood), the swanky boutiques of Soho and the less stylish outlets of China Town. Next up was a wander in Central Park, I don’t know exactly what I had thought the place to be like and we didn’t by any means get around it all but there was more going on there than I had expected. I think I had imagined that it was mostly a big field with a few trees around the edges - silly of my I know but then that’s one of the reasons for travelling and seeing things for yourself. All the way around the park Emily had been refusing to tell me where we were going to be going for lunch, preferring to goad me with tangential clues, but after she let slip that she felt it was quintessentially American my suspicions coalesced. For all that I was still tempted to disbelieve that I would again be taken to a place that those of you who read my Ohio adventures will (I hope) remember me describing before. The place in question was Hooters just as my suspicions had told me. Don’t get me wrong I don’t dislike the place, in fact its pretty good and I like the food but I suppose I must on occasion suffer from some vestigial and archaic British properness that makes me mentally wince at the concept. After lunch we returned to Time Square to recuperate in the cinema before going back to base to prepare for a night on the town. We took a cab across town to a bar called ‘Off The Wagon’ where we met up with Emily’s flatmates and other assorted friends. One feature of this place aside from the wall to wall video screens showing sport was a dedicated ‘Beer-pong’ table (or at least that’s what we called it). The idea of this bar game is that two teams of two stand on either end of a rectangular table and arrange 10 plastic cups in a triangle similar to 10 pin bowling. Each cup has about an inch of beer poured into it and the players take turns trying to throw a ping pong ball into their opponents cups (a bit like trying to win a goldfish at the fair). When the ball lads in a cup the beer has to be drunk and the cup is removed from the table. This (predictably) goes on until one team has no cups left, they lose and the winner stays onto face then next pair. I was pretty amazed to discover that I wasn’t completely rubbish at this game as I am usually pretty poor at such things. Anyway, there was still a lot of NY to see and so next morning it was back on the (hot) streets and the (very hot) subway to continue the grand (shoe shopping) tour. We found the ‘Meat Packing District’ and had food at a place called ‘Pop Burger’ where the burgers were both very good and very tiny (so you got twice as many) it made you feel like that burger eating guy out of Popeye cartoons. We passed Macey’s (department store) and far more importantly the monkey building, or Empire State building as it is more commonly known. We also passed through the very grand Grand Central Station which I thought was rather impressive.
On my final full day in New York there was still a fair old bit to get through and we started off by going to see the huge bronze statue of a bull but I was unable to get a clear picture of it from the front due to the relentless chain of Japanese tourists hogging the metal beasts visage. I got a picture of the back end of it which was expectably less attractive. Our explorative wanderings eventually positioned us conveniently outside (and shortly afterwards inside) what Emily told me was the oldest pub in New York. It certainly felt like it was the oldest as it still had sawdust on the floor and had photos and memorabilia spanning the centuries that genuinely looked as if the had been screwed to the walls at least a century ago. It was pleasantly cool and calm inside and I enjoyed the feel of the place with its time scarred tale tops and drinks menu limited to light or dark beer (both of which were good). Leaving the pub we explored ‘East Village’ and later lunched at a themed restaurant called ‘Jeckel and Hyde’s’ where the theme was unsurprisingly ghoulish horror. There was a stage show and actors wandering about and animatronics aplenty. It was good fun and another place that made me think “only in America” but then I was in America and I was lapping it up. The day was almost done but there was still one thing I was determined to see before I left and it either required a boat (which we weren’t going to use) or a ride on the subway followed by a tram ride followed by a bus ride to get to a good viewing area. The area in question (I think) was called Liberty Park and the object was of course the Statue of Liberty. By the time we got there dusk was falling and Liberties lit torch was clear, it was great to see her at last. To be honest by this stage having spent nearly three days trying to at least get a glimpse of everything New York can offer to a travel mad English fruit we were both tired out. It had been a fantastic few days and I wished I could have stayed longer but as I have said before (and as is all to often said to me) all good things come to an end. I had been pleasantly surprised by New York, it wasn’t the place I had thought it to be, a big city like London but not the same as London, distinct in its own right and a place I hope to go back to again.
From here it was a bus ride back to Canada, Toronto, and then after a few days grace it was off to the airport and back to Heathrow and then Leeds and then home. Although I had been aware of the end of the trip for some time it still happened suddenly leaving me both glad to be home and sad to be ‘off the road’ again. So what next? Well for the mean time at least I will have to get a job and rejoin the real world and earn some money again but after that who knows. Whether you consider the world to be big or small there are still many many places in it that I have yet to explore and I don’t imagine that I am about to stop doing just that. I remember at the end of my OZ/NZ adventure (the one that started all of this) I felt a little deflated, perhaps I believed that it was all over and that whilst I was lucky to have done all that I did it was ended. This time it feels different as I now know it isn’t over and it never will be, for as long as the worlds still out there to be explored I will be going out there to explore it. I sincerely hope that all of you, my readers, will be there with me all the way because I don’t mind letting on that my Adventures would have meant less without you; all of you. I don’t know where I will end up next but I do know that when I go there and I write about it you’ll be amongst the first to know. Fare well my readers, until the next time.
David.