Bonjour, Montreal!

Seemingly, and luckily, as Toronto's weather had taken a turn for the worse, I was on my way to Montreal. A mediocre on and off bus sleep later and I arrived in the equally as grey, yet slightly cooler, Montreal. For the first time this trip, my lack of lingual skills came to the fore in the predominately French speaking city. In reality, with a largely bilingual speaking population, there were no real issues...yet.

After traipsing through some irritating stop-start rain, I checked in to my hostel, and in a moment of pure luck, managed to walk past the TV area about 20 minutes before the 100m final, and as a result, catch the first decent, live, glimpse of the Olympics all trip. Bravo, Mr Bolt, bravo.

With Vieux Montreal (Old Montreal), full cobblestone pathed roads, wide riverside pathways lined with trees and european styled architecture, I felt as if I were in a completely different continent, let alone country to one I had been in earlier that morning.  I made my way down to Vieux  Port, and noticed large groups of people heading towards some sort of music festival in the distance called 'Divers Cite'. I spotted a couple of promotional posters around, but couldn't pick out what it said, other than that admission was free.

As I entered the festival, I noticed a lot of shirtless men, but as that's a given at any music festival, I didn't think a lot of it. Upon entering the main stage area, I noticed that it was almost ALL men without shirts on. And they were dancing. And holding hands. I know what you're thinking, and yes, as it turns out, I had unknowingly gone to one of Canada's most popular LBGT dance festivals.  After leaving the festivities down by the waterfront, I continued to make my way through more sporadic rain, and more of the old town, soaking in views of the tremendous architecture and rain simultaneously.

Vieux Montreal

Vieux Port

As far as sporting stadiums go, the Montreal Olympic Stadium and its surroundings were almost depressingly drab and underutilised. 36 years may have passed since the Stadium's prime, but it seems as if the stadium is heavily underutilised and very dated. It was hard to imagine that it, and the nearby Centre for Sport (aquatics) were major stadiums in an Olympics given their current state. The nearby Velodrome was the most revitalised of the venues in the area, however, only because it had been converted into a Biodome. The four miniature climate controlled zones mimicked their specific climates perfectly, and it was a good opportunity to catch glimpses of some animals I hadn't spotted before, such as a Beaver. There was no Pauly Shore, however.

Olympic Stadium

Biodome

After heading up to Mont Royal (the mountain the city is named after) and having a panaromic view over the city, I headed on my way to meet Marco, whom I would be staying with for a couple of days. Upon arriving at Marco's and being welcomed inside, I was greeted by a plethora of other travellers from France, Colombia, Brazil and the US, in addition to Marco's grown up Canadian children. For the evening we dined on a selection of salmon (it's growing on me), Quebecois cheese, beer and wine... and that was just the appetisers. It completely confirmed my belief that couchsurfing is one of the best experiences when travelling, as half a dozen or so of us sat around drinking and talking about different cultures and languages until the late hours of the night.

View from Mont Royal

Mont Royal

The next morning I made my way back down to the Old Port to visit Pointe-à-Callière, Montréal Museum of Archaeology and History,  which was hosting a very cool special Samurai exhibit. After exploring the old town and old port in weather that was much more pleasant than that of of a couple of days prior, I caught the metro to Mont Royal Station again to Parc Avenue, where I had previously heard that there was a place called Tourtière Australienne, which is essentially an Australian bakery. I picked up the first meat pie I had eaten in months, which resulted in nostalgic ecstacy like nothing I've never experienced before.

Pointe-à-Callière

After stumbling across a college and Canadian Football League Stadium set back against Mont Royal, I managed to get inside and have a bit of a walk around. Venturing further into the city, I came across a group of young Indian men playing cricket. After spending the entirety of the trip so far not being able to explain cricket to anyone, let alone play it, I took a chance and asked them if I could join in. Luckily for me, they happily obliged, and I spent the next hour talking and playing cricket with a complete group of strangers, the only connection between us being our love for cricket.

Molson Stadium

Street cricket

The next morning was slightly more chaotic than planned. In my desire to sleep a bit longer, I decided that instead of locating an internet cafe, I would ignore the 'YOU MUST PRINT YOUR ELECTRONIC TICKET BEFORE ARRIVAL' notice on my e-ticket delivery email, and just try and get it printed at the station for a nominal fee as I'd done in the past. After arriving at the station with a calm  30 minutes to departure, I comfortably and calmly strode to the ticket counter, feeling a bit cool that I had rebelled against the ticket purchasing system.

Alas, when I got to the counter, at this stage about 20 miutes prior to my bus departing, I was told that there was not the slightest chance of being able to print my ticket at the station, and I would need to track down somewhere to print it. It was at this stage I was pretty much resigned to missing my train, but upon exiting the bus station (bags and all), I managed to spot a public library just down the road. After a short jog (again, bags and all), I entered the public library with a stress inducing 15 minutes until bus departure. With my bus departing at 3:00pm, the break down over the next few minutes went as follows.

2:45 - Arrive at library

2:46 - Try and figure out where in the library to go

2:47 - Find entrance to computers

2:47 - Told I need to put my bags in a locker

2:49 - Arrive back at entrnace to Library, speak to library assistant about printing out ticket

2:50 - Sign up for a vistitors library pass in Montreal

2:51 - Wait for the attendant to type in every single detail on my drivers licence. Wonder if he will make a comment on the photo on my licence. He doesn't.

2:52 - Get access to a computer

2:53 - Check email, get distracted by football email newsletter.

2:53 - Find email with ticket

2:54 - Try to print ticket with French computer options. Go off memory of computer button locations.

2:54 - Print ticket

2:55 - Exit computer, pick up ticket

2:56 - Exit library, run back to bus station

2:58 - Arrive back at bus station, get in line at last.

Once I arrived, I bought and enjoyed the most enjoyable Coke of my life, loaded my bags on the bus, and enjoyed the ride to Quebec.

Toronto

After possibly one of the longest bus rides known to man/myself, a gigantuan 16 or so hours from Chicago, I arrived in Toronto at 7am, having departed at 4pm the previous day. An extremely empty bus, and the standard long haul wifi and power supply, in combination with a mixture of snack food made the ride extremely tolerable however.

I was greeted by Sam, my couchsurfing host for the next few days, and we made our way to his extremely central downtown apartment, right off Yonge street, Toronto's main strip, if you will. With a concert that night, I managed to sneak in a couple of hours of sleep (I didn't sleep at all on the bus), before making my way down to the waterfront for our outdoor viewing of Sigur Ros. The Echo Beach venue, on the shores of Lake Ontario with spectacular views of the Toronto skyline provided the perfect backdrop for a spectular musical performance that did not disappoint.

Sigur Ros at Echo Beach

After a day spent wandering the hipster district of Queen Street West, Chinatown, and managing to track down the house from the small-time Canadian television show 'Kenny vs Spenny', I was on my way to concert venue 'Sound Academy' to catch Long Island band Brand New. Or, at least I thought I was. After travelling by public transport for about 30 minutes of the 45 minute journey, I realised I'd forgotten my ticket.  An extremely annoying and rushed trip back to Sam's apartment, and I was on my back to the venue to catch the Brand New, making it minutes before Mr Lacey and his bandmates started playing.

We were up at an uncomfortably early time the next morning, making it to Dundas Square, Toronto's miniature version of Times Square, to get our lift with a small time tour operator to Niagara Falls. A few lesser appealing (read: boring) stops were on the way, but that only heightened our anticipation for seeing the falls themselves. The largest waterfalls in terms of waterflow in the world, the volume of water cascading down the three falls was mind-boggling. We'd got tickets to go on the 'Maid of the Mist' tour, which involved donning a bright blue poncho, jumping on a boat and heading up close to the face of the falls. In the warm weather, the chilly spray was extremely refreshing, like running under the sprinkler on a hot summer's day as a child.

Niagara Falls

After viewing a world record holding natural phenomenon, it was only fitting that we made our way to the CN Tower upon our arrival back in Toronto. The tower, formerly the tallest in the world, (now second) provided some brilliant views over the city, though the continual red glow that would light up the tower (it looks great from everywhere else) was a tad annoying, giving the tower a bit of a 'dodgy nightclub' look.

View from the CN Tower

With the work week over for Sam, the group of us headed to the annual Carribean Festival. A mardi-gras parade of sorts, the esplanade along the lake was transformed in a sensory extravaganza, with loud music, loud outfits (albeit small) and a variety of carribean influenced foods. With the now commonplace hot and humid Toronto summer taking its toll on us, we headed to Steam Whistle Brewery. A smaller version of Little Creatures, the ice cold beverages were the perfect refreshment after a morning in the heat.

Carribean Festival

Feeling refreshed and revitalised, and running out of time in Toronto, I headed via ferry across to the Toronto Islands. The journey across provided an impressive vista of the Skyline, before docking at Central Island. The islands were packed with families picknicking, people throwing around footballs, riding bikes, and swimming on the various beaches around the island and, once more, I was slightly annoyed I hadn't pre-planned a casual cheeky beverage and swim day in the park. With the sun was setting on my time in Toronto, I enjoyed my last moments ferrying across to the mainland, before mentally preparing for the next week in French Canada, starting off in Montreal the next day.

Toronto Skyline

Toronto Island Beach

Chicago - the surprise packet so far

Maybe it's just me, but I've never really known Chicago to be a huge tourist destination. With that in mind, I  didn't really have huge expectations, and I also didn't have too many preconvieved notions of what it'd be like. Rolling into Chicago via a much more luxurious bus with inbuilt power supply and wifi (seriously, backpackers are like moths to a globe when it comes to free wifi), we lugged our bags about a mile or so up the road and were happy to get to the check in desk at our hostel.

After being unable to find our booking, the desk clerk asked to see the confirmation email I had received. By this stage we were getting slightly concerned that once more, we would be left without somewhere to stay as a result of a hostel not accepting our reservation. Well, that was partly the case, as it turned out I had erroneously booked for the 29th.... of next month.

A quick ring around by the hostel reception staff confirmed all but our worst fears, when every other hostel in the area was fully booked, and we were looking at having to pay considerably more and stay at a hotel. I decided to give Paul, our couchsurfing host a call, and luckily for us, he was able to have us stay a night early, and everything worked out swimmingly. Our time with Paul was an interesting experience, as Mike and myself shared a loungeroom with up to five other people, from places such as France, Switzerland and Estonia. Watching the Olympics in a loungeroom in Chicago with people from multiple countries is not something you experience every day.

Millenium Park and the waterfront of Lake Ontario was my first port of call the next morning (once more, the standard 'amble to the major body of water upon arrival'). It was during this intial walk along the Lake, through the cities parks and along the main avenues of the city that I first started to really appreciate the aesthetics of the city. It still had its elements of a grittier city, but an abundance of parklands, clean streets and impressive architecture (new and modern), made Chicago a very appealing city to look at. After consuming some amazing Chicago-style deep dish pizza from the famous Gino's East, we got on the Metro and headed to the northern end of the city.

Cloud Gate

Willis (Formerly Sears) Tower

As we arrived in Wriggleyville (what a name, eh?), it turned out the Cubs were mid-way through a three game series against the Pittsburgh Pirates. As such, the streets were teeming with enthusiastic Cubs fans and street performers. I was instantly drawn into the Cubs hysteria (they had won a nailbiter game that day), and was set on seeing them the next day. We also encountered an extremely charismatic street vendor, equipped with a loud speaker, selling bottles of water. However, with his wit, articulation and dry sense of humour, it was hard not to appreciate his fervour for water selling. As we played along to his calls of "Now isn't that refreshing? That cold water against your lips. Let me hear an 'Ahhhh'", we walked away having thoroughly enjoyed his new take on such a simple process.

Wrigley Field Street Vendor

The next morning, after visiting the United Centre, the home of the Chicago Bulls, I set off back into downtown, checked out a museum or two, and explored parts of downtown that I hadn't had the chance to see the previous day, including Grant Park, home of the famous Lollapalooza festival that we were annoyingly missing by only a few days. Keeping my promise to myself from the previous day, I headed back up to Wrigley Field and purchased a $21 nose-bleed section ticket to game three of the Cubs vs Pirates. I'd been informed by every Chicago resident I came into contact with that, to put it simply, the Cubs are perennial underachievers, and that's putting it kindly.

United Centre

Grant Park

It was with a massive shock that upon getting on the bus towards the field, that I was greated with a 'Well, excuse me, what are your plans for today?". Unsure if I was being spoken to, I glanced back at the bus driver and lo and behold it was the gentleman selling water from the previous day. As it turns out, his name was Paul and his day job is driving city buses. He explained how he has two kids, and selling water is his 'on the side' job to help put them through college. As I arrived at my destination, we exchanged handshakes, wished each other a good day and were on our way.

Paul (apparently that hand signal is different over here, haha)

With no expectation of miracles, even against a weak Pirates side, I was extremely pleasantly surprised to witness a 14-4 landslide win to the Cubs including a season high nine run innings and three home runs, in addition to a big-screen marriage proposal (which was accepted to massive roars from the crowd). As if it couldn't become any more of a spectacle, Gloria Estefan made a cameo appearance to sing 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game'.

After the game, I headed back through the subway and got off at a station I found out only minutes previously was "uh... a bit... rough". As I gazed out along the streets, and cop cars frequently circled, I decided my best option would be to take a cab back to Paul's house, as opposed to waiting around and being the only Caucasian person catching a midnight bus.

The bus rides through questionable suburbs continued the next day, as I was once clearly the odd one out, as I headed through Detroit and onto Toronto; all up the 14 hour bus ride was rather pleasant, bordering on a holiday within a holiday as I sat back, watched the first two Batman movies and indulged in some movie snacks. Bliss.

RV Adventures

Yet another early wakeup greeted us the next morning, but once more the excitement of a change in location, set up and accomodation gave us that kick of energy we needed to head out into the cold and wet weather Vancouver had decided to hold off on unleashing until we left. We once more boarded a very unglamourous Greyhound Bus, lugging our bags into the damp undercarriage and lining up with a mixed bag of travellers and thrifty locals heading south.

A failed sleeping attempt and a border security officer with a sense of humour later ('You guys are way clean, where's the drugs? Is that a football full of heroin?') and we were back in the states once more. After meeting up with Harry's American friend Jay, we were on our way to Everett, just outside of Seattle to pick up our 25 Foot All American Recreational Vehicle a.k.a our our yet to be named RV.

After watching the cheesiest video in RV Instructional Briefing History (there's limited competition) we were given the keys and were on our way. To Walmart. We stocked up with a bounty of $1 TV Dinners, and all the pop culture reference snack foods we could find. After admiring our bounty, we were on our way, heading north to Kamloops on the other side of the border. Driving such a mammoth vehicle was slightly nerveracking in the early stages, especially when having to squeeze between multiple road trains. Driving at night in the rain didn't help our nerves, but with so many miles to cover, we were keen to some distance on the board early on.

After arriving in Kamloops we stayed in the graceful surrounds of a Walmart carpark. Whilst never seeing anything official, we had heard through travelling folklore that it was acceptable to park an RV overnight in Walmart carparks. Whilst there may have been a sign or two that explicitly denied this upon our arrival, the half dozen or so other RV's in the vicinity put us at ease as we settled in for the night.

We awoke early the next morning to the sound of shoppers picking up their groceries and decided we'd better get a move on. After a longer than planned diversion to Lake Shuswap (Google Maps is literally a poor man's GPS), we were on our way to Lake Louise, a hefty 441km drive away. After our standard late arrival, and somehow not realising we were driving a portable home, we were slightly concerned to find the RV Park near the Lake was booked out. In our defence, though, it seems fairly ingrained amongst the regular RV community that illegally camping on the side of roads is a huge no-no. As such, that side of things, in addition to wanting to hook up to electricity and water, drove our desire to stay somewhere legitimate. With that in mind, a chat to a local service station attendant allowed us to camp behind the service station.

Photo credit: Michael Farnell

With our “accomodation” sorted for the night, we headed along through the Banff National Park to take in Lake Louise at sunset. Much like the scenery ahead of us over the next few days, it's hard to avoid using cliché terms and an overabundance of adjectives to describe Lake Louise, other than to say that we collectively let out an 'Oh, wow.' upon getting to the viewpoint. The picture perfect postcard-esque mountains lake, boathouse all make up the kind of magical scene that couldn't be made more picturesque if someone designed it from scratch.

Lake Louise at Sunset

A 5am wakeup the next morning allowed us to once more take in the beauty of Lake Louise at sunrise, before heading to the equally as stunning Lake Moraine. The turquoise coloured lake (a result of glacial minerals), once more provided us with a sight to behold. Our early morning arrival also allowed us to explore a bit more in relative peace and quiet, free of a crowd of baby-boomers taking photos with iPads. It also allowed us plenty of time to get into the town of Banff.

Lake Moraine, Banff National Park

Despite the swathes of tourists swarming around the town, Banff was a great town to explore. Highlights included sampling icecream from “Cows' a company who reputable produce the world's best icecream (not sure if that's the case, but it was the best icecream I've ever had), catching a wild deer help itself to the vegetation in a random household's front lawn, and trekking up the Sulphur Mountain hot springs. For a laugh, we opted to shun our own bathers and instead chose to pay $1.90 to rent the 1920's-esque one piece bathers. Whilst it was only really for our own amusement, the 70 or so people also in the springs were a combination of shocked, appalled and entertained as we made our entrance. Apparently no-one else rents those things. After having our photo taken by complete strangers (I don't know how they'll explain that one in their photo album), and a refreshing dip, we were happy to call it a night.

Our 'get up' for the Hot Springs

A hike up Johnston Canynon the next day provided us with us with even more spectacular viewpoints of a series. After several days of spectacular scenery it's hard not to feel guilty about not getting as excited about the sights surrounding us. It's almost as if the bar needs to continue to be raised, and I've definitely felt a bit like a spoilt child. Regardless, I still enjoyed the cascading waterfalls and friendly chipmunks as we walked up through the winding canyon.

After speaking to a lot of people along the way and discussing our plans, we decided that instead of driving from Calgary across Saskwatchen to Winnipeg before ducking back across the border, we'd head across the border earlier and make our way through Montana and North Dakota. Whilst we'll never know what the route to Winnipeg would have been like, we were not disappointed by our decision to head south early, as wide open plains and rolling hills followed us through Southern Alberta. As a group of young travellers, the ultimate compliment across our travels we'll give a location is that our surroundings are “Windows Wallpaper” material, and it was quite clear that we were surrounded by such scenes.

Southern Alberta, Canada

The slightly lesser known Glacier National Park (in comparison to Yellowstone, Yosemite, etc) was a surprising and extremely rewarding gem for us. After driving up through incredibly highly elevated mountain ranges in geography that took me back to that of Switzerland, we made ourway to Logan Pass. Whilst the 6 degree celsius weather doesn't sound too cold, the wind chill factor had us all shivering in our boots (or, in my case the ever reliant $20 sneakers). The slippery hike up the Hidden Lake overlook provided us with a neverending panaroma of sub-alpine beauty, and encounters with mountain goats happily ambing merely metres away from us.

Glacier National Park

Driving through Montana

For a place we opted to go to on a whim and only looked into a day earlier, we couldn't have been more happy with how things panned out in our short stay in Montana. With a tight schedule, and having spent more time exploring North America's National Parks during the day, we headed off at 5pm from St Mary's to our planned destination for the night, Glasgow, near the North Dakota border, and a whopping 400 miles away. Armed with four drivers on a rotating shift, a top up of Walmart junk food, caffeinated beverages, and supreme slection of musical tunes, we pulled into the Scottish capital's namesake at about 1:30am. After a refuel (both with petrol and snack food), Mike and myself decided to keep on driving given the massive distnces needed to cover.

After pulling into side streets and parking lots in towns that aren't even marked on the map for me to find, we were finally able to find a secluded street where we felt confident enough to park overnight without waking up to our car on bricks, or towed. All up we had driven about 400 miles (640km), and with our trip to Fargo the next day, would drive well over 900 miles (1,440km) in two days.

As we journeyed on the next day toward Fargo, we drove through land reminiscent of cowboy and indian films (historically many battles were fought in the region), and would often have to slow down or stop to let buffalo pass through. After arriving in Fargo, we went for the usual Walmart accomodation, but not before checking out a college bar adjacent to the nearby North Dakota University,. After driving through a college suburb as stereotypical as it comes ('Frat houses' aplenty). We arrived at The Bison Turf. The typical college bar and was surpisingly full with a large amount of students, and we were extremely pleased to find 'pitchers' (slightly larger than jugs) were a mere $7.50 each. We experienced the true joy of renting an RV later, as we left the bar, walked 30 metres, got in our RV and started cooking some late night snacks.

After checking out what is amusingly referred to as “Downtown” Fargo, we left for Minneapolis/St Paul, the two twin cities of which the latter we would return our RV. With still a day a half of time to kill, we checked out the world famous 'Mall of America'. Officially the biggest mall in North America (there's a slightly larger one in Canada), the four floors, 500,000 square metre collosus has its own theme park complete with two rollercoasters, and aquarium and mini-golf to name a few attractions. It was also featured in one of the best movies of all time, The Mighty Ducks 2, where the Ducks are 'rounded up' on rollerskates.

Our time in downtown Minneapolis was limited, containing little more than a failed attempt to find more Mighty Ducks locations and a stroll through heart of the city. The intricate network of Skywalks between buildings, in addition to the towers themselves provided some architectural eye-candy, but we were back releaxing at our RV Park soon after, making the most of the facilities we managed to escape paying for a lot of the time since we departed from Seattle eight days earlier. With so many miles covered and so much seen it's still hard to comprehend that we're not even halfway through our time in North America. Chicago is next, before heading back up to Canada in what should be a busy couple of weeks.

Minneapolis, Minnesota

Vancouver, where the people are as good looking as the city.

As I caught the ferry across the Strait of Georgia for the second time in as many days, I was pretty excited to make my way into Vancouver, a city that I'd noted always rated highly on the livabiility stakes, and a city I'd heard many positive things about. The city had obviously gone through a lot of work to become easily accessible for the Winter Olympics a few years back, and it showed through the ease of which we were able to catch public transportation to our hostel without missing stops or travelling in the wrong direction as in previous cities.

With half a day to kill, we opted for the standed 'amble down to the waterfront when you have nothing else to do', and the impressive view of North Van across the Vancouver Harbor was occasionally interuppted by skyplanes setting off. The contrasting of surrounding mountains, water and forrests combined well as the nature provided an aesthetic backdrop to the teeming metropolis.

We decided to hit up a pro-am comedy night at a bar several blocks away from our hostel, a move almost as risky as deciding to sit by ourselves on the Greyhound busses of late on the hope that the bus doesn't get full enough or pick up enough passengers and having to share a seat with a stranger. The comedy was hit and miss, much like the food and drinks on offer. I couldn't convince anyone to split a massive bowl of nachos with me (they wouldn't get close to eating a fair share, apparently), and the heftier Vancouver drink prices (compared to the US) were a a bit of a dampener.

With different agendas, the next day the three of us went off in different direction the next day. After being dissuaded from seeing the Capilano Suspension bridge by its $35 price-tag, I headed up to the apparently equally as stunning, less touristy and free Lynn Valley National Park which also contains a suspension bridge. I've always found getting off a bus at the last stop a weird feeling. When the engine stops and the driver looks around at you and tells you that's as far as he goes, there's always a sense that you could be stuck in the middle of nowhere for a while. In a way it's kind of like the prelude to an adventure.

My public transport gaff turned movie opening did not disappoint as I trekked through, across and over streams falls and waterfalls before coming to the bridge in question. Despite the thick sturdy chains suspending it over a 50 metre drop, it was hard not to feel uneasy walking across, no thanks in part to the young kids terrorizing their parents as they moved the bridge by way of jumping and swinging.

Moving further south to Stanley Park, a sprawling park that acts as the junction point between north and central Vancouver, and the decision to opt against hiring a bike again was a tiring decision, but rewarding experience as I continued to work off the curry I had for lunch whilst had the freedom to walk wherever I wanted wihtout having to dismount from a bike and rush to have it back in time as had been the case in days gone by.

I met back up with Mike and Harry in town who had acquainted themselves with the Vancouver Southsiders, the supporters group for the MLS (Major League Soccer) side the Vancouver Whitecaps. A brilliant pint of Rickards Red (second only to Rickards White as the best Canadian beer) and some fries and aoli later and the men in white were on their way, marching from the historical Doolin's pub to BC Place, the Winter Olympic Stadium turned home of the Whitecaps.

As I was following the Vancouver Southsiders (Whitecaps fans) down on their march to the game today, a homeless man got the fright of his life as dozens of singing and shouting supporters passed by. After making eye contact with me and then noticing I was taking photos of the supporters, he decided to throw his arms up in the air and dance along. As I walked past he extended his arm and gave me a fist bump. It was pretty cool. A few minutes later I realised I should have given him some change, but as it happened the thought didn't cross my mind, as 'in the moment' as we both were.

After as a group deciding a day trip to Whistler would be money better spent on extra time elsewhere, in addition to it being a transportational headache the next day when due back in Seattle, we opted to spend another day in Vancouver. After an amble across the Granville Street  Bridge and past Granville Island, I headed through the trendy Kitsilano District, before catching a bus to the University of British Columbia. 

Disappointingly, with the college year out, my interaction with college types was limited to observing a variety of athletes practice, from rugby players (terrible) to cheerleaders (less so). The sheer grandiosity of the campus and its facilities was something to behold, with some arenas being professional size and quality, most notably the $45 million ice hockey arena that hosted games during the Olympics.

Kitsilano Beach was a short sidetrack on the way home, and as I traversed through crowds of sunbathers lapping up the mid 20 degree weather and collegiate aged students throwing footballs to each other, I regretted not coming more prepared to a quick beach dip.

After rendezvouing back at the hostel, we continued on our disciplined approach to limting our spending after the expensive couple of weeks up the west coast of the states and set about finding a cheap place to eat. After several weeks of living off massive american portions, we were disgusted at the expensive Vancouver standard of living result in “Perth Prices” (our tongue-in cheek jab at the prices we pay in Perth... which given the high wages are probably not that bad, but that's another story). We ended up settling in at a small bar which offerred discounted food, seemingly on the hope that you'd buy a few drinks (ie Beef sliders being $1 each with a drink purchase etc). Given our temporary and overt thriftiness, our decision not to purchase a drink with our meals must have irked the wait staff (who receive more tips the more drinks they serve), and after being asked on three or four occassions if we wanted drinks, I felt we were demoted to annoying customers. The apaghetti and meatballs they dished up was quite nice, though, for the record.

Vancouver Harbour

View from Burrard Street Bridge

Downtown Vancouver

Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge

Beaver Lake, Stanley Park

Beaver Lake, Stanley Park

Homeless man on the walk to BC Place

Harry and Mike outside BC Place

Along the Seawall

Along the Seawall

Along the Seawall

Thunderbirds Field, University of British Columbia (UBC)

Thunderbirds Field, UBC

Kitsilano Beach