Beginnings on the West Side

Nearing the end of day three in Vancouver, and I have purposely been taking it easy. Don't worry, I won't make the same mistake as Toronto and naff off before I get the chance to see any of the sights, I am fairly certain I will be staying in BC for the foreseeable future!

It has been a fairly productive first few days. There has also been plenty of sitting on my arse, messing around on monster.ca, and playing NHL 2002 which I downloaded, created myself and became the best hockey player in history.

Day One was when I was feeling most sociable. I sat myself down in the bar, watched the hockey (Montreal getting panned my Toronto, dammit!), and drank myself into oblivion. Three days on the bus with deprived sleep, and then minimal food that day did nothing to help.

Needless to say, the following day was a write-off. I did manage to limp up to Stanley Park and take in some of the scenery around Vancouver, which is amazing I should add. Today was the most productive.

Fresh and recovered, finally, from the first night's festivities, I set about creating my BC life. First of all, I enquired about jobs in the hostel where I am staying, which would mean free board and therefore loads of cash!

Then on to the SWAP offices, where I ended up enrolling in the SunRun, a 10km run that takes place later on in April! It is something to work for I supposed after a snowy winter of hibernation.

In this ilk, I made my way to a place where they arrange running clinics twice a week, signed myself up and bought some flash new running trainers! So I'll be back like Paula Radcliffe in no time!

Applying for millions of jobs has been the other task enveloping me at the moment. It has been a vast and varied menagerie, from journalism internships to bar jobs to odd-job bloke. Anything that keeps me alive is good enough to begin with.

So in Van, BC, it is all good. Apart from crazy Quebecois! In my room on the first night, was a guy called Simon. He seemed nice enough at first. He (voluntarily) told me his life story, about how he loves to rap and how he is in British Columbia to learn English and spread his word and skills further. Quite commendable, I thought.

Then things began to turn sour. There was signs of it in the first conversation I had with him. He did mention that he had been here a month and didn't like it.

A couple of hours later, and evidently about a dozen cans of some cheap alcoholic fluid for Simon, I returned to the room. There I found a completely inebriated French-Canadian with not much faith in life and people.

The dialogue went something like this:

Simon: "Hey man. You are a good man. You are a nice guy."
Graham: "Err....cheers."
S: "I am a bastard. A shit. I am shit!"
G: "Er-"
S: "A shit!! Spit on me! I am a bastard. Shit on me!"

It was at this stage I recoiled into my bottom bunk bed, and Simon stumbled out into the corridor, shouting expletives at anyone passing by.

I went to sleep.

-

The time is 2:30am. Now I hear voices, and the light flicks on. I am hoping and praying that Simon doesn't talk to me and/or vomit all over my bed (which is the only eventual course of action I could see occurring).

Then I heard other voices. I slowly, and cautiously, turned round. I made an effort to make it seem that I was still asleep. Through half-closed eyes I could make out the symbol of the Vancouver constabulary! To this day, I don't know what Simon did, but to cut a long story short, he managed to argue himself from a full refund and expulsion from the hostel, to no refund and a night in the cells.

So that was Simon.

American dreams, and back in CA

Quite a relaxing few days to complete my American adventure, basically just wandering around and enjoying Boston. We took a look at the 'Cheers' pubs, which was a novelty, but for the most part Kate and I just drank coffee, took in the sunshine (!) and took advantage of the cheap American prices. I acquired some sunglasses for the equivalent of £2.50, while Kate fulfilled her shoe needs with a purchase of some new boots.

The bus back to Montreal, and then on to Quebec City, was a tough one for me. Again, the bus was pretty busy, and driving through the night was hell on earth. I couldn't get comfortable, didn't get any sleep, and then when I did shut my eyes we stopped for some reason or another which woke me.

Arriving in the capital of French Canada after about 11 hours was such a relief. Back in Canada, away from the craziness of the Yanks, and back to laid-back life.

Not so. We were greeted by metres of snow. The white stuff was smacking against our faces and we were freezing. Somehow, Quebec City still manages to remain beautiful. Its old buildings (it is one of the oldest cities in North America) are quaint and rickety, and the steep roads, battlements and Gothic architecture are all reminiscent of an Alpine village.

For the first day, we had our obligatory mooch around the downtown area. We saw the main buildings that we needed to see, such as some of the cathedrals, and the Chateau Frontenac. After a fantastic meal, we then retired back to the hostel- which is quaint and classy itself- for a beer (something Kate hasn't been legally able to consume for the past 15 days).

Today was a bit more energetic. We were up early for some skidooing (otherwise known as snowmobiling). It was quite nerve wracking, with a $1000 deposit on the line! Also, rather than be shown how to do anything, we were basically patted on the back and sent on our way! The tracks were confusing, we became stuck at least twice, took the wrong turn, and incessantly felt that we were going to tip the whole thing over. Other than that, the time spent on the machine was exhilarating! The course wasn't just a flat, easy track. There were turns, steep inclines and declines, and uneven terrain for us to manoeuvre over.

Thankfully, we didn't damage anything, so our bank balances weren't cleared out. We made our way back to the hostel, and now we have been recuperating back at the hostel. Quebec is a quiet city, and I think that both of us were ready for a less hectic place where we could gradually take in all the sights, rather than rush around trying to see everything.

So tomorrow it is back to Montreal, and then the worst bus journey of them all- three days to Vancouver.