I found out in the morning that one of the German girls had been thrown out because she brought somebody who was previously staying at the hostel back to the hostel. She was at another one down the road. It was my last day so I had to sort my shit out and put it in the locker. I had breakfast, had a shower, when I was all sorted I checked out. I hanged around the café for a bit, chatting to the German girl who had been thrown out. I quite liked her, she was a nice person and very good looking in an alternative sort of way. I stupidly forgot all her details, I was sure I added her on Facebook but when I went to have a look, it was clear I hadn't. Saleh appeared with Ian so I went off with them for a bit. I said goodbye to the German and went off. Saleh was so excited to show me this make shift hut he made on the beach out of logs and drift wood. It was a pretty cool house if you are a tramp. It has shelter from the elements and is pretty strong. Strong enough to jump up and down on. The only downside was, that it gets used by the crack heads and for people to shoot up heroin so there are pipes and needles on the floor. On the plus side there is a blanket and cushions. Time was ticking away, my flight was this evening and I had to get to the airport. My whole travelling adventure was coming to end. I spent the rest of the afternoon with Saleh, Ian had to sort something out. He wanted to get a trike and convert it into a mobile photography studio. His friend converted a trike into a mobile DJ booth and he wanted to go along with him to take photographs of club goers. On the way to the waterfront, we found a bike that would come in very handy. We waited around for the owner of it. Everybody knows everybody else round here. They all knew who the owner was. Is was parked outside a hostel for the homeless. When the owner came out she looked fucked. She was a reformed crack head who got really into working out and was very muscular and masculine. I don't know if Ian ever got the bike. Me and Saleh went to a bar to meet Ian, Saleh took his bike in but got told to remove it. He went outside for a smoke and I went out with the pint glass. We were sharing a pint, I couldn't be bothered to buy one. I had to get back to the hostel, get my things and go to the airport. My flight was in a few hours and I needed to get there and check in. Goodbye Saleh, Goodbye Ian, you both and Vancouver will be missed. I had such a bad time that ended in joy. I got my things, got on the sky line and went to the airport. I checked in, went to wait at the gate. Watched a film on my laptop, where some stupid old man tripped over my laptop cable. I don't know why he walked right where he did, but he did. I got tapped on the shoulder and it was the Danish girl from the hostel. She was on my flight to London to get an onwards flight back to Copenhagen. The flight was called. We boarded. She wasn't sitting any where near me so we said goodbye. Then got on the plane.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
I went to a park called 'Crab Park' with Saleh. It had a great view of the mountains and the city skyline. It was a really relaxed park with a bandstand in the middle that I could tell saw a lot of use. We spent the days wondering the streets. They showed me some cool hidden parts of town. Even if it was just a street or a sign, it was always something interesting and worth seeing. I just chilled at the park all day, went wondering around and ended up back at the hostel to have some food. I met the boys in the bar downstairs along with another couple of guys who work in the café. This part of Vancouver is amazing, its full of young cool people all with similar interests in art, music, books, films everything you can think of. I met some other people from the hostel in the bar and we started drinking pitcher after pitcher. It wasn't long before we were all quite drunk. The bar closed so we all went up to the common area in the hostel to continue drinking there. The strange person I mention was there. He randomly came and sat next to us in the bar downstairs and followed us up to the common area. He just sat staring and not saying anything. We thought it was polite to ask how he was doing, his name etc.. I'll be fucked if I knew what he was saying. I had no idea what language he was talking. He was so quiet and mumbling and speaking gibberish. He was about as weird as they come, I didn't fell comfortable around him. He started talking and then wouldn't shut up. He claimed to be of Native American descent, then said he was half Danish half German. For him was a bad move as two of the girls with us were German and a girl and a guy were Danish. Who was this buffoon. Interfering in our fun. Get out of here you nut! Of course none of us said anything like that, we were too polite. He stayed there. The rest of them went to club, I went to bed.
I woke up extra early so I could make the most of the airport. I took my laptop this time so I could use the internet at the airport, if I needed to buy any tickets. I checked online for flights and found the cheapest was a British Airways flight for about £800, it was the same details as the one the lady had quoted me but was a lot cheaper online. I managed to find somebody from American Airlines. This English gentleman who had emigrated to Vancouver a long time ago and now had a very slight accent of his own. He explained exactly what I had, what I could do and what I should do. He was very sympathetic about my whole situation and wished me all the best. What a nice guy. I phoned home again and said that I was going to book the ticket online as I had no other option and it was the cheapest I could find. I tried to barter with British Airways directly, they said that it would always be cheaper online, they offered me a cheaper price than before but still too much. I booked the flight. I now had a huge weight off my shoulders and could actually enjoy the rest of my time in Vancouver. I had now spent two days moping around at the hostel, two days wondering around the airport and now I was free. Thinking about it, I must have been really suspicious spending two days at the airport and not actually doing much but using my laptop and occasionally speaking to some staff. I went back to the hostel and was in a much better mood. Even though in had no money left, I felt good that I had a plan and wouldn't have to worry about it any more.
I woke up early in the morning. Had breakfast before most people were even up, then went straight to the airport. The sky line ride to the airport was cool, you get a view of most of the city and then it seems to just disappear into the distance. Then you get to warehouses and then the airport appears. I don't think I have ever seen so many Chinese people than I did at the airport. I have seen more people in this short time, at the airport, than I have all the times I have been to the China towns in New York City and in London. I spent the whole afternoon the airport, I didn't get a single thing accomplished. I wanted to speak to a representative of American Airlines, they were closed. They were only open if there was a flight and there was no flight. I spoke to somebody from British Airways who I knew were an affiliated company of American Airlines and asked if I could use the vouchers on one of their flights. The lady explained that the voucher can only be used on either American Airline flights, or a code share flight. The code share flights are ones that other companies operate for American Airlines. Unfortunately for me, there were American Airlines flights to London from Vancouver so I couldn't use British Airways. She offered me a ticket but it was far too much money, it was over £1000. The American Airlines flights stopped off and Dallas so I definitely couldn't take them. I was at a loss. I didn't know what to do. I called my mother and father back in England to explain the situation, like always, rather than sympathising they were angry. I didn't care really, I hadn't done anything wrong and there wasn't anything I could do to resolve the situation. I went back to the hostel. It was now evening now. I ate some pasta, played some cards with the people in the common area, I had some beers there, then went out to town with Jack Chris and some other guys, it was their last night after all. This girls from New York had just arrived, she was sleeping in the bed under Chris. She had already started drinking vodka. She claimed she could handle her drink but I beg to differ. I noticed in the toilet after she had been in was full of sick. She had try to disguise this fact but I wasn't having any of it. I never said anything though, didn't want to offend her. Chris and myself were getting ready to go out for a bit and she started chatting to us. We stood around for a bit, then I heard the loudest fart noise ever. At first I thought it was Chris, he me, when we realised it was her, we tried to contain our laughter. It was clear we were both in hysterics inside, also very disgusted. She didn't know us, we didn't know her and she just did a massive fart. The sort that mates do together to try and outdo each other. It was so funny but so wrong at the same time.
Once again, in the morning I found myself in bed. There were half empty and empty cans of PBR all over the room. The recycling bin in the kitchen was overflowing with cans of PBR. There was PBR all over the place. I had to try and sort myself out again. I wasn't even going to consider it without eating something and have a cup of tea. I spent, or should I say wasted the whole day looking for possible flights back to England. Cancelling my previous flights and losing all the money, trying to get a refund but I couldn't even get a voucher. I tried to get a refund on the bus, no luck. I managed to cancel the hostel and only lost a small deposit. Still, all that money and time gone to waste. Even if I could go to the states now, I barely had enough money to do anything other than eat rice and drink tap water. I found some flights but wanted to see if I could use a voucher I had for an American Airlines flight I didn't take. I couldn't use it online and all of the American Airlines flights had a connection in the states, I wasn't allowed to do that. I toyed with the idea of Jack and Chris smuggling me back into California in there car when they went back in a couple of days. I don't know, I had no idea what to do and how to do it. I was lost in another country with no clue. Thank goodness I was somewhere that spoke English. It was getting late so I couldn't go out and do anything about it today. I looked online to see if American Airlines had any offices in Vancouver, they didn't, all they had was at the airport. I would have to go to the airport tomorrow. So far all I have done in Vancouver is worry about things during the day and get really pissed at night. What a life eh? I didn't get too drunk tonight. I went to the Cambie bar downstairs, had some poutine and quite a few beers. The poutine here was nicer than the one in Quebec City. Plus the portion was about five times the size, I couldn't finish it there was that much. I met some people from the hostel in the bar and stayed there until it closed then went to bed.
The only thing I could think about doing and wanted to do was get absolutely shit faced so that I had no grasp on reality any more. I finished off the beers I didn't drink the night before. Then ran out and quickly went to the shop before it closed at 18.00. I wasn't concerned about eating, like I said all I wanted to do was lose myself and escape from this awful reality. Again, I don't have a clue what happened really that night. All I can clearly remember was shot gunning most of my new twelve that night. To shotgun a beer, you pierce a hole in the bottom or side, put the hole to your mouth, get ready, open the ring pull and down it as quick as you can as it shoots into your mouth. The way Jack and Chris opened the cans was by pressing their thumb nail on the side and gently applying pressure, the cans are so weak they give and your thumb makes a clean hole in the side. I had a go like this but couldn't do it. Maybe it was because I had just recently cut my finger nails too short.
What a messy night and I can barely remember it, must have been good for that. If I made a fool of myself in any way I don't care as I didn't have a clue what I was doing. I had to get on with important things now. Unfortunately a lot of my time in Vancouver was spent trying to find out what was going on about my visa application. I got a phone card just so I could make some phone calls back home, to Mikes, anywhere. After I had some fried breakfast in the café and another cup of Chai, I retired to the common area. I checked my emails but hadn't received any word. I was getting really anxious about what was going on. I went and called Jim to see if he had received word. The good news was he had, but it wasn't good news. It was far from good news, it was about as bad as it could ever have been. I had been denied again. This now meant that current visa waiver I was using had become invalid. I was now no longer allowed to go into the states unless I have an interview at the US embassy in London, England. What a fucking nightmare. Its like Barbados but worse and not as bad at the same time. I tried to see if there was anything I could possibly do. When Jim said the reason why I had been denied I sort of pissed myself in laughter. It had been because in their opinion I didn't have strong enough ties to the UK. I didn't have a house, yeah right. I didn't have family, of course not. I didn't have a job, well, I lied about that one but there is no way they could ever know. I have an English bank account, a UK driving licence, well, provisional but still. I don't understand how I don't have strong enough ties to the UK, literally my life is in the UK, fucking stupid retards saying something like that. It doesn't matter that I had planned to meet somebody in the states the travel along the whole west coast. It didn't matter that I had a hostel booked, a bus booked, a return flight to England booked. It didn't matter that I had all these plans and couldn't do anything about them. I had spent all this money trying to get the visa, all this money on things in the states that I wouldn't get a chance to even do. Its not bad enough the fact that I got deported from Barbados, spent a big chunk of my budget getting back to England then flying out to Cuba and carrying on. I'm now no longer allowed into the states unless I get a visa and have interviews, and because I have been denied it will make the whole application process much harder. What a fucking joke. Why do I have such bad luck?
That night there was some zombie festival or something going on across the whole of Vancouver. All the bars and clubs had a zombie fancy dress theme. There was also a huge parade going on through the city centre. I have to say, that Vancouver had a massive fetish scene, also a huge S&M scene, sadomasochism. I was getting quite drunk at the hostel and I think we all started having shots of something, either tequila or vodka, I can't be sure. Most of us went out to this club, I have no idea where it was or what is was really like. All I could remember about it was that it was full of people in fancy dress and I wasn't so felt a bit of a fool. The dance floor was also properly sunk into the ground and the DJ booth was high up on the wall. I was really pissed, continued to drink. I don't know what was going on until I woke up the next morning in my bed.
I checked in, went up to my room and found my bed. A had a big single, nearly a double on the bottom bunk. It suited me nicely, I could easily stumble into bed after a night of heavy drinking. I put my valuable things in the locker, went into the common area and had a sit down on the sofa. Just as I was walking through the doors, a couple of American guys did too. It seemed as if I was following them as we all ended up in the same room. The room was actually quite strange though, it was like one big room with only a double bunk, and a bathroom in the corner. This is the bit that had the lockers in, then there was another room attached with no wall in between, this is the room that I was in. It was all one room but seemed to be divided into two. The American guys were on skateboards and went off for a bit. They came back with some food and started cooking up some soup in a pressure cooker. I was amazed at how quickly you can boil potatoes in a pressure cooker. It shortened the boiling time to only a few minute, the soup was completely made within half an hour of chopping up the vegetables and Kabinosi sausage. It smelt wonderful and put my plain old pasta with tomato sauce to shame. I couldn't be bothered to do anything proper so just cooked up some pasta. I had enquired about the cheapest shop to by alcohol from, and found out there were two shops opposite each other. One was expensive and the other was a little bit cheaper. I can't exactly say cheap because of this bloody minimum alcohol pricing in Canada. In the common area, there was this elder Australian lady, Judy. She was talking about some really random things she had seen and done. She told stories of all these adventures around the world. To be honest I was quite jealous of the life she had been describing. She seemed really interesting and had lived her life to the full. We all sat around chatting, her, Jack and Chris the American guys and myself. There were some others in there too. They joined in and we all started drinking. I had bought a twelve of PBR, simply because it is cheap even though most of the time it leads to the shits. A little while on this English guy emerged, he was in my room and had been asleep when I arrived. I think he had just woken up by this point. We were all hanging around and chatting.
Vancouver
To be honest the bus station was so far from the city centre and the coast that I could barely see anything of any interest. I spoke to some people on the bus and they told where I needed to go. I had to get the sky train to some place then get off and walk a little bit and I should come out near my hostel. I had booked a few nights in the Cambie hostel. It had great reviews and was the most recommended in Vancouver. It was in an area called Gastown which I had been told was the place to be, trendy bars. restaurants and clubs. I had to get there first. I got he sky train, went to the station I was told and then I hit a brick wall. I had completely forgotten the directions. I walked off in any way in the hope that it was the right direction. It was really early and nobody was about. The schedule said the bus would arrive at about 8.00am but it wasn't even 7.00am yet. I had a feeling I might be going the wrong way but had no real way of knowing. I walked down this street for a long time. All along the sides were bars, pubs and concert venues. It actually looked very much like Camden in London, England. I saw a hostel and decided to go in an ask. I was in the complete opposite end of town. I had to walk all the way I had just came, about half an hour of walking with my bags. Then go about the same distance still the other way. Bloody hell, I had to go so far and I was desperate for a shower. When I finally got to the hostel, it was far too early to check in, I would have to wait until 13/14.00. I asked them if I could drop off my bags and if possible I could use the shower. They obliged and I was given a temporary key, put my luggage in a locker, had my shower and then went back down. They gave me a voucher to have free breakfast in the adjacent café, so I did. They didn't have any Earl Grey tea which was what I was really craving, do I settled with a Chai tea, and a banana muffin. It was tasty and free and there were lots of people to chat to in the café. I had my laptop, plugged in and charging. Access to the internet, I would be fine until check in time.
A couple of hours later I could see the Rocky mountains on the horizon. We were getting nearer and nearer. The sun was setting so I was in a rush to get there so I could get a great photograph of the sun setting behind the mountains. Lucky for me we got there just in time. I didn't quite get the shots I wanted as I was only using the camera on my phone but I saw it. The memories I had of the great lakes have just been pushed back a bit and replaced by this, the Rocky Mountains. I was just staring and staring out of all the windows looking at the mountains. I had been in the Andes but I didn't go right through them like I was now. It eventually got too dark to see anything any more so I had a little nap. We were now in British Columbia, the last of the provinces on the trip. The next time I looked out the window, we were in these towns that all looked like ski lodges. We had arrived at this place called Banff. It is a small town in Banff national park. I have heard about this place as being a ski resort in the winter months. It was very cool, these log cabins everywhere and chalets. It wasn't even a stop on the list, just a get on/off stop. We were soon off. It was pitch black outside so I called it a night. In the morning I would be in Vancouver. I went to bed with a smile and it stayed on my face the whole night. I could see signs for Vancouver on the roads now, I knew we must have been very close. It was really cloudy though, I was only wearing shorts and was expecting sun. the bus did the last few stops and then it was Vancouver.
When I woke up, we had left the great lakes and were now into the prairies. I had no idea what to expect from them, all I had been told was that there is endless nothingness as far as the eye can see. It was beautiful in its own right, not as memorable as the mist on the great lakes, or the view from Machu Picchu but was still fantastic to look at. It reminded me so much of the English countryside, relatively flat with a patchwork of farms all over the place. The only major difference here was that the farms were huge, I'm sure a some of which were the size of some big towns in England. Imagine having to work on something so large. Again, if you see it on a map, it looks amazing, like a massive piece of soldiers camouflage. There seems to be every different shade of green you could ever dream of. The prairies were the big fat chunk in the middles, I don't think it will take as long to get through as the lakes and the rocky mountains, as its flat and the road is pretty straight the whole way. There isn't much I can say about them really, they were just big, pretty flat farms. Don't get me wrong, they are impressive in their own right but I have seen farms all around so its not that big a deal to me. We had quickly stopped off in a place called 'Swift Current' to have some food and drink. I got a teen combo burger at A&W, it was very tasty and was the first piece of food I had bought on the bus ride. I was already into my third province on this bus ride, I was about to pull into the fourth. I had started in Ontario, then went through Manitoba, then Saskatchewan and now I was entering Alberta. The first major stop in Alberta was the funniest name of all, 'Medicine Hat'. It had only taken two days to get this far. Apparently the biggest tepee in the world is in Medicine hat. I was kind of hoping we would drive past it so I could marvel at it, we didn't. This journey had been great to take my mind of the fact that I probably wouldn't be allowed back into the states, I hadn't thought about it once. I don't remember exactly where it happened but we left somebody behind. We were on one of the smaller stops near Calgary. Everybody got off the bus, to have a piss, take a shit, have a smoke, eat some food, whatever you do when you have about fifteen minutes to kill. This one older guy who was part of the group at the back of the bus. Nobody quite noticed he hadn't got back on yet. When we did, we saw his jacket still sitting on his seat. One of them went to the front, told the driver, we had only driven off about fifty metres down the road, we could easily have gone back or waited a little but the driver insisted on continuing. We left him behind. All we have of him now is his worn leather jacket. Calgary here were come, it was our last major stop on the route to Vancouver and the last stop in Alberta. It was all British Columbia from here on. I had made an acquaintance with somebody from Calgary, he said if I was ever about to get in contact with him. I wasn't stopping, just however long the bus was there for, then I would be off. For this reason I didn't bother getting in touch with him. Calgary didn't look too bad, I didn't know what it would be like. There were a few jazz clubs and lots of bars and restaurants. The stopover was only an hour so I didn't have any time to venture out and explore the city, plus I didn't want to be left behind. We left Calgary and in the morning I would be in Vancouver, it put a smile on my face knowing this.
When the bus rolled into Thunder Bay, the first of the weird names, I could see the lake just got even bigger. To put it into perspective, it had taken over twelve hours of near continuous driving to get from Sudbury to Thunder Bay. If you ever get the chance to look at the area around the great lakes on a map, do. It is unbelievable how many lakes there actually are. It looks like a blue speckled green blanket or something, with the odd massive lake. These smaller lakes continued all the way to Winnipeg. Another ten hours later. During the trip I had been chatting to some people on the bus, they had formed a sort of group near the back of the bus. I was on the edge of this group, I liked be near enough to get involved but far enough out to turn around and have a little nap here and there. When we got off in Winnipeg, we had the over four hour stop to take. What to do in this time. One thing is for sure, I really fancy a beer or three. The bus station is weirdly placed in the airport terminal. To get there, the bus had to drive around and through the airport. I noticed a couple of bars on the way through, there were some hotel bars and a sports bar. The sports bar was the nearest. The back of the bus group went to the bar too, we all met in there. It gave a chance to charge my laptop, check emails and the like and most importantly have some beer. A couple of beers down I joined in a few games of pool. Then as the beer kept coming, it was shortly followed up with tequila. I only had one shot but the other were having shot after shot. The time to get back on the bus was drawing near. We finished our game, and beer, then went back to the bus station. We had to be in the queue a bit earlier here as they had a very strict security protocol. Some time recently, a mad man went on this bus route from Winnipeg to Vancouver and along the journey they had slit somebody's throat. They smuggled a machete on the bus and for some unknown reason killed their neighbour. After hearing this, it jogged my memory of somebody in Montreal telling me this story. I didn't believe it, I thought they were taking the piss but apparently not, hence the heightened security. It was now 23.00 on the second day of the journey, thirty six hours in. We got back on the bus and sat in our seats. It was late, I was tired and went to sleep.
I love long journeys, especially ones over land where you have space to move around and occasionally can get off for some fresh air. If things gets boring I tend to just sleep. When I got my ticket from the ticket office, I checked it over. The ticket cost me a total of $188.32 for the cheapest Greyhound service. I was curious as to how many stops we would be having going such a long distance, so I looked at the itinerary. There were nineteen stops, not including the ones where it is simply for people to get on and/or off. The short layovers were of fifteen minutes, some of the longer ones stretched to over an hour and a half. The stopover in Winnipeg was for four hours and forty minutes. Very long indeed, don't know how I would be able to handle it after being on a bus for two days. Some of the place names made me laugh, there was a place called 'Thunder Bay' and another called 'Swift Current' and the best has to be a place called 'Medicine Hat'. I was very curious as to what these places would actually be like. The bus itself was actually a coach, not a bus. It was quite an old coach, not like the one I took in the states, it was looking doubtful that there would actually be power on it, let alone WiFi. The coach even had one of those massive trailers attached, there must have been a shed load of luggage to need one of those. I got on the bus, took my seat, away from the toilet enough as not to get a whiff of it every time the door opened. After all, I was going to be on this bus for three days and I didn't want the smell of piss and shit wafted all over me. We were off, bye bye Toronto, hello open road. It wasn't until a few hours when we were finally out of the city and suburbs and onto the open road. In those hours all I could see out of the windows were house, big buildings and the free way. There wasn't much going on so I watched a film on my laptop whilst it still had some battery life in it. Once my battery had run out, I had no choice but to read, listen to music and sleep. It was gradually getting darker as the sun started to set. In the distance I could see what looked like the beginnings of the great lakes. The ones I could see weren't great in any way, they were tiny but at least they were beautiful to look at. It was a sign that we were now heading right into the great lakes. Sudbury was the first main stop and it was where I could see the lakes beginning. Every way I looked out of the windows I could see lake after lake after lake, everywhere. On a map, the whole area surrounding Toronto is full of lakes, on the ground they can't be seen as easy. Once we headed out of Sudbury towards the next stops, I could see on my left a massive lake, I mean really big, so big that you can't see any edges apart from the one closest to you. It was a hell of a lot bigger than Lake Titicaca that I went to in Bolivia/Peru. The lake turned out to be Lake Superior, the largest lake in the world. That would explain why it looked so big, it was! It was getting to dark to see anything now, all I could see were the lights of oncoming cars every so often. I slept. When I woke up in the morning I had one of the best sights that I have ever seen. As the sun began to come up, all round was mist. There was this really dense fog floating up form the lakes, it was utterly breathtaking. It had very eerie yet sublimely beautiful feel to it. I will have this image of waking up in the mists of the great lakes forever. I didn't take any photographs for some reason, which was silly of me as I have no visual documentation of it. All I have are my memories permanently locked in the unbreakable safe of my mind, and what I can write about it. I would loved to have just stayed there all day watching the sun slowly dissipate the mist.
After the fighting was over, the lights came on and it was time to leave. On our way to the station we took a detour via the Toronto FC stadium. They had a game, it was only a few minutes into the second half. We could see the score, it was 2-0 to Toronto FC, they play in the MLS, the major league soccer league, the US equivalent to the Barclays premier league. The stadium wasn't that full and as it was the second half we tried to get in. the security and stewards wouldn't let us in. we stood outside with a clear view of the big screen. We couldn't see the game live but we could watch it on the screen and here all the chants as if we were inside the stadium. The stadium looks like it has just been put together temporarily, almost like a giant piece of scaffolding that sways and creaks when the fans jump around. We left after about the eightieth minute to avoid the rush. Somehow we nearly got into a fight at the station waiting for the train. Some guy walked right to the end of the platform, took a piss and as he was walking back started staring at us then shouted something. Of course in our drunken states we shouted back and he looked as though he was about to flip then walked off. He was acting like his team had just lost, they hadn't, they had just won 2-0. What an arsehole. The train took us to the station by the bus stop that took us back to Markham. I was happy, I had a good night to celebrate my last night in Toronto. Thank you boys.
As soon as the knights came out, we let out the biggest of cheers. I even stood up and cheered. I could feel my voice started to go from all this cheering. I didn't mind in the slightest, it was all in the name of fun, and we were having bundles of it. The knights were all in there respective places in front of their loyal supports. Oh boy were we loyal, we were even heckling all the rival knights, the only one that matters was the blue knight. Go blue knight. The king was saying some crap, and his ass licking assistant guy was doing all the main speaking. The games had commenced. They started with riding the horse around, then charging at a target and striking the bulls eye with a spear. Then they all came out and charged towards a hoop to catch it on the end of their joust. The only knight to miss was the red night. Unlucky mate, you fool. Of course the blue knight made it look the best, when he succeed, we stood and gave an almighty cheer. The kings bum licker said some more, and called two knights out one at a time. Here it was, the moment I had been waiting for. The duel. The rival knights trotted around the arena. When they got to us we booed them and shouted insults. Then they took their places. They stared into each others eyes then charged. Crash! Bang! Wollop! One of the knights went down. Victory to the one still on his horse. When I went to the toilet earlier I had missed an integral part of the story, yeah right. The kings son had been kidnapped by the rival kingdoms army. The winner of the jousting tournament would be fighting to help free the prince. The blue knight had his turn. He came out with such grace and form, there was no way that he could every lose. He won of course, took his opponent down in the swiftest of blows, right into the shoulder. We cheered so long and so hard, just to make all the other supports fear for their knight. We weren't the only people in our area cheering and jeering, we managed to get the people seated in front of us to join in. The knights were dropping like birds diving to catch fish. All that mattered to us was that the blue knight was still in it. The second round was upon us. No blue knight yet, so boo's all round. The duels had gotten more intense, rather than the knight just falling and being out, they continued to battle on the floor. It went from a short and sweet single hitter, to a fall out sword fight. The blue knight was phenomenal, he swooped in and went right for the kill, his opponent blocked it. Boo, then he hit back, the blue knight was downed. Oh no, stab. He's gone. Our blue knight, down and out. We were banging our cups and shouting abuse at everybody. In the spirit of things, not generally being rude. How could such a great knight be beaten. The MC even commended us on how well we were cheering, all this and our knight didn't win. I was outraged. I didn't want to watch any more. I got so into cheering the blue knight that I gave up on the rest. It felt like watching Arsenal lose. All that came out of my tired and scratchy throat were Boo's and jeers, I was not pleased. Of course the prince was saved, he fought a great fight but I wasn't into it any more.
We were assigned to the blue knight and would sit in the blue area. I wanted yellow as it was my favourite colour, I don't really have one any more but it was yellow. Blue would do though, its better than green, at least. Once inside the main area, we could purchase our alcohol and buy souvenirs and have some pictures taken, whatever you do in a place like this. We had hit a roadblock with the alcohol. They no longer did the cheap refills, they explained they had literally changed a couple of weeks before. Mike and Kevin were adamant on having this cheap beer. They asked around, no luck and demanded to speak to the bar manager. After a few stern words then some polite words, the bar manager gave us an offer we couldn't refuse. She said she would give us a new glass, even though she was in no way responsible for the breakage, we got a new one. She also said we could have on beer for free. We thought that was fair enough, then she asked each of us what beer we wanted. We all got a free beer. I feel like a bit of an idiot because I maybe could have got a big glass and had s better souvenir than a crap plastic glass. It was free so I wasn't complaining. The beer went down so well, you can never fault free beer, even it tastes awful. We noticed that every time you order a beer, they give you a new plastic cup. Seems a bit silly to me. We had a couple of beers each, before we went into the arena. We were starting to amass a large collection of these plastic cups. We had four already and the evening had just begun. We had our photo taken while we were standing around, none of us would ever buy it. We asked the lady kindly if we could take a photo of our photo, she laughed and let us. I have this photo and it will always remind me of how great the night was. We were called into the arena, as we went in I could see how large it was. There was an auditorium type seating arrangement around this big sand covered area where the knights duel and the horses run around. There was bar in the main arena bit so we didn't have to keep going back and forth, plus you get bench service, I would say table but you are seated on these long benches. The only downside was that the toilet was all the way back in the other room about a two minute walk away, not what you want when you should be cheering on your knight. I had to take a piss so I decided to order a beer on the way back, I had ordered one off the waiter, it didn't matter, I would drink both. The waitresses are referred to as 'wenches', the male ones don't seem to have a name so we named ours 'mench', combining male and wench. He seemed to enjoy being called a mench, he said in all his time working there, he had never been referred to as a mench. He read us the menu. It was an onion soup and garlic bread for starter, quite a bit mug of soup. The main was half a baby dragon (chicken) some potatoes and sausages and maybe some other vegetables. The desert was a cake of sorts. I liked our mench, he really didn't care for his job, he was the only one we came across the didn't speak with the stupid medieval style accent. We managed to procure some more food, free of charge. They really liked us in here.
It was my last night in Toronto, I was either drowning my sorrows or celebrating, maybe both. We had booked three tickets to go to Medieval Times the night before, I was actually getting to go there. There was a game on the companies website, where if you manage to get the weeks top score, you get a free ticket, or free tickets to go to your local Medieval Times. We tried and tried for a couple of days but no such luck, we just couldn't get there. So we had our tickets now and we going to go this evening. My last night was going to end with the most joyous of laughter. Mike was working but would meet us near closer to the time. It was left for me and Kevin to take in the glasses. I wrapped them rather crudely in plastic bags, not that it would do anything, just a little less conspicuous. We trekked all the way, got a bus, got a train, then disaster struck. Somehow the glass Kevin was carrying shattered. He claimed he didn't do anything but I couldn't make sense, how could quite a thick, solid glass just shatter. He must have accidentally knocked it into something. Oh well, we now only had one glass. We would now have to buy one or share to make the most of the cheap refills. When we got to our destination, we saw Mike and explained the glass situation. I was proud of myself that the one I was carrying hadn't broke. They thought of an idea to try and talk there way into getting a new glass free of charge. The Medieval Times building is in the Exhibition area, its where they have this yearly exhibition with an almost circus feel to it. The exhibition starts next weekend so unfortunately I will be missing out. We walked around the area for a bit, we were still early as the doors weren't opening for another half and hour. When it got closer to the time we went to the doors, as soon as we got there, they opened and we went inside. All over the walls were these really tacky knights, shields and coats of arms. It all looked very silly but fun at the same time. The staff were dressed as a mixture of peasant, knight obviously, entertainers and there was even a king. It was so childish but I didn't care any more, I was here to have some fun.
I finally got all the documents sorted out and faxed off to the consulate, all I had to do now was wait. I was feeling very pessimistic about it, I pretty much already knew that it was going to be denied again. There was an ounce of me that still had belief that, you know what, maybe I will get the visa after all. If it wasn't for that little bit of me, I would have probably gone back home as soon as I could have to avoid spending/wasting more money. I really wanted to do the drive from Toronto to Vancouver so I stuck it out, plus I could always get the most pleasant of surprises. I had the bus booked now any way so I would have just wasted another $180. The whole time I had been staying with Mike, he hadn't stopped going on about this place called 'Medieval Times'. It is a restaurant that had a medieval theme and has the added entertainment bonus of knights jousting and sword fighting in the middle of the arena. There are even horses galloping around in there, its complete and utter madness. Another selling point for me were the size of the glasses and apparently they did refills of the said glasses for only $7, that's about two pints for the price of just over one in a pub. Mike had two of these glasses. I really wanted to go. I wanted to go even more after we all watched 'The Cable Guy'. The Jim Carey film, there is a scene in it where he takes his 'friend' to Medieval Times to help take his mind off his recent break up. This is one of the greatest comedy moments in any film. I remember seeing it a long time ago but never knew what or where it was. All I knew was that after seeing the film again, we had to go. Before I left them we would go.
I only had a few days left in Toronto now, mostly doing the same thing every day. I booked my bus to take me from Toronto to Vancouver, and epic journey across nearly the whole of Canada. It was a three day plus journey and I found it hard controlling my excitement for it. It cost me about $180 which was a hell of a lot cheaper than a plane and would mean I could actually see the changes in landscape from ground level. I was really excited, I would see the great lakes, the prairies and the rocky mountains. Kevin was searching for a car. He had been looking for a while and ruled the search down to a few choices. One of which wasn't too far so I tagged along with him and Bev to go and view this car. I think he must have liked it quite a bit, either that or he was desperate for a car because he snapped it up. He filled out all the paperwork and was picking it up in a few days. It was a KIA, that isn't an acronym for killed in action, its brand. Somebody had secured some tickets to go and see The Blue Jays play the Boston Red Sox during the week. I was well up for it, I hadn't seen them play in such a long time. I had seen them on TV doing pretty poor but one of their players, Jose Bautista had scored the most home runs so far in the season. He was miles ahead of anyone else. If he got a home run when I was there I would love it.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
There was also some other good news, the bride was with child, so it was a fairly large celebration. After everybody had eaten it was time for the presents to be opened and speeches and all that. I was quite pleased that I even got a mention, they said thanks for coming all the way from England. Once everybody had left the clean up began. It was quite a quick job, taking the chairs back to the neighbours and putting the furniture back in its original place. After the cleaning was all done, or mostly done, we resumed our season on FIFA.
People started coming in, I got introduced to most of them, some of them introduced themselves. The caterers arrived and started setting up there food and cooking equipment. I was quite peckish now, all I had eaten was a bowl of cereal in the morning and a little bit of salad for lunch. Most people had arrived but the guests of honour, the people the party is for, the happily married couple were still to arrive. When they did everybody cheered, they all said there congratulations and gave their gifts. We were all sitting around, standing around and chatting. There were a few separate groups like in all parties but they were constantly changing position and members. I was talking to the groom, he was interested in my travels so I told some stories, some good, some bad. Due to recent circumstances most were a little worse than the events probably were. The caterers were taking there time. A lot of alcohol was being consumed and no food being eaten to help soak it all up. I was pretty hungry and I'm sure everybody else was too. About two hours late the food was finally ready for us to help ourselves to. I took my time, I didn't want to intrude or anything, everybody was family but me, the boy from England. The food was good, nothing much to shout about but it hit the spot.
I was greeted by Kevin when I arrived back in Toronto. I was glad to be back, all I had for them was bad news though. I was tired but was in no mood to sleep so I stayed up watching the food network and so on, back on with the usual routine. I pretty much got back to my previous routine the next days. I had been told that Mike's uncle had got married during the summer and nobody had been around to celebrate the wedding. Jim and Bev had planned to have the wedding party at their house, they were going to get a caterer in and all sorts. Most of their cousins would be coming, I would get to meet them all. I don't think I have ever seen any of them before, I have seen Bev's mother once or twice before but she was the only one. Jim had been buying some beer for the party and set up a mini fridge by the back door. I was given the task of helping set up the chairs, I gave Jim a hand picking them up from a neighbours house and helped him set it up in the back garden. I took it upon myself to hoover up the basement, I don't know when it was last done. It hadn't been done the whole time I was there and that was over a week now. It didn't take too long and was nice and clean now. I rearranged the furniture making it as neat as possible. The house was looking ready for a party now. Everything was pretty much sorted now, we were all just adding the finishing touches and blowing up balloons. Mike and myself had a few games of FIFA before people arrived. We had been playing a season with Aston Villa, we had already played one, won it and had started a second and were just under half way through. I had been drinking quite a bit of beer since arriving here. The main beer I had was Sleeman's Cream Ale, then I discovered Mill St's Coffee Porter and bought a twelve of that. There was this beer called Moosehead that I have just started drinking, its a lighter pilsner beer. Mike was drinking this beer called Mickeys, its a very watery beer with barely any flavour but quite high in alcohol. The best thing about Mickeys is the riddles they have in the bottle top. Its quite fun trying to figure out what they mean. I had a shower, shave and got dressed. Everybody was ready now, just waiting for the guests to arrive.
After my little nap I had to get some water. I was desperately thirsty and getting really dehydrated in the heat but had no idea where the way back up was. I was walking round the fort but it seemed to be going nowhere so I retraced my steps and went back up the way I had come down. Found a shop, had a drink, the whole bottle went down in one gulp. It was now early afternoon, now that I had quenched my thirst I think it was beer time. The main area was pretty cool, lots of fancy boutiques, little cafés and restaurants and the occasional pub. Which pub to choose though, I had a list on some flyer and went for the one that was probably the most expensive but had the biggest selection on beer. I sat at the bar, had a look at the selection and made my choice. The beer was a local beer from Quebec somewhere and was pretty good. I was quite pleased with the Canadian beers I have had so far, most of them have actually been really tasty. The pint went down a little quicker than I would have liked so I had another choice, it was even better than the first one. Sitting next to me at the bar was some American guy who had driven up form the states, stopped off in Montreal for a night and had come to Quebec for a few days, then planned to return to the states. He was into beer so we had a little chat about beer, I told him about my misfortune with the visa situation, he wished me luck. He told me about this place down the road that is a fast food restaurant that is supposed to have tasty poutine, tasty, cheap poutine. As I haven't tried any yet, even when I was in Montreal where poutine is famous, I thought I had better try some finally. After the pint, I said bye and went off to get my fill of poutine. The restaurant was just like a Burger King or something, except the main dish was poutine and its variants. I choose the bad boy of all poutines, the one with lots of cheese, sausages, and plenty of gravy poured all over. To be honest it wasn't great, the gravy was very salty, the cheese didn't taste of cheese, apparently it is the cheese you use though. The sausage was just a frankfurter cut up and chips aren't my favourite type of food. It was okay but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, I don't even know what the place was called. After I had stuffed my face it was time to go to the airport, I was early but had nothing else to do. Time to fork out another $20 or so on a taxi. Altogether this trip had cost me around about £500 and it wasn't even a success, one bit let down. One big expensive let down, in fact this had been the most expensive and stressful day trip in my entire life.
The rest of my time in Quebec city was filled with great depression, I had just been denied a visa, this left me with pretty much no options. If I couldn't sort this problem out, I wouldn't be able to meet up with a friend in Seattle in three weeks, I wouldn't even be able to continue travelling and would once again have to cut my trip short, much shorter than originally planned. I went from being very optimistic to about as pessimistic as one can get. Why have I got so much bad luck?
At least the sun had come out when I got out of the consulate. I got my phones back and continued with the day. My flight back to Toronto wasn't until the evening and it was only about 10.20am now so I had all day to kill. Where to go and what to do in Quebec, I had no guides and no idea what I should be doing. All I knew was that I really, really needed a drink. Too early for that though. I walked around once again, had a bottle of ice tea and sat and watched people go by. I went for a long walk around and around, not having any clue where I was going or why, just simply wondering. My mind was elsewhere, after all, I had just been denied. I went to the top of a hill which gave me an awe inspiring view of the whole city and surrounding areas. The French grandeur definitely shows in this city, much more than Montreal. Montreal is a very modern city with some older bits, this city looks to be mainly old with some newer bits. I walked off all the way along one of the giant fortified walls, these walls had huge canons scattered along them, I would image this was a pretty well defended fort in its time. By the time I got to the bottom out of the fort and into the old town, it was nearly lunch time. I had some snacks in my bag, some things that I got on the plane, some pretzel sticks. I ate all my food and was left with nothing but a rumbling belly. There was some weird procession thing going on, everybody seemed to be dressed as either pirates, peasants or what looked like guards of some kind. It was some re-enactment thing, I have no idea what for, I don't know anything about Quebec city. Right at the bottom on the river front was a medieval styled market, I soon noticed you had to pay to get in. Not for me then, I'm not even in the mood to worry about this crap now. I stuck around for a little bit just to see what was going on, really crap touristy things like this are not what I'm into. It was so busy that it took me about twenty minutes to clear the crowd and get out onto the open street. Now the sun was right up in sky and had cleared away all the mornings fog, it was bloody baking. It was good though, sitting in the heat letting the sun beat down on my face and warm my cockles. I had run out of water and juice and couldn't see a shop or anything anywhere in sight. I ended up sitting on a bench on the water front and fell asleep for about an hour. What was at first a little sit down, ended up being an afternoon nap.
I went through security, even stricter than that of airports. I was scanned and all sorts. I sat at a seat in the waiting area, looking around it wasn't what I expected at all. I thought that the interviews would all be carried out in individual rooms closed off for privacy. It looked like the waiting room of a post office, seats in a row, then cashiers/clerks at booths. Behind bullet proof glass obviously, after all, it was the US consulate. My name was called. I went up to the booth, said hello and all that. They asked what I was doing and why, I explained what was going on. I handed over my documents, they checked it all over. It all checked out, I was feeling quite optimistic about it. Then she asked if I had any way of proving I had enough money for the stay, it didn't mention this on any of the forms or anything. All I had on my person was a couple of credit cards and about $500 US in cash. She then proceeded to read something to me. I thought, that was it, I had blown my chance. It was like she was reading me my rights as I was being arrested. She gave me a letter explaining the situation, that I had been denied and can resend off the same application with extra information. There was a list on the back saying things you need for the complete visa application. She said all I needed to do was get those things, then fax off the whole lot to the office that she left me a fax number for. I needed a letter of employment, which might be a little difficult to get as I am no longer employed. I needed some recent pay slips, that would be easy as I kept all of them, they were just sitting in a draw at my home in England. I also needed an up to date bank statement, I was sure that the credit card statement wouldn't hurt either so I got that too. I had about a week and a half to get this sorted as I was planning to be in the states in about two and a bit weeks.
Quebec city is a beautiful city, it is a walled city with an old wall surrounding most of the old city from when the French occupied it. There are canons all over the walls and a big châteaux looking building in the middle at the top, overlooking a river. The whole city was engulfed in this thick fog, it was hard to see far distances but it gave the whole place an air of mysticism. I still had a couple of hours before my interview so walked around the city for a bit. I hadn't slept now for over twenty four hours and was feeling it. Plus it was bloody freezing as the sun hadn't come out and shone through the dense fog yet. The time came for me to wait outside the consulate. A queue had started to form, as time went by the queue got bigger and bigger. Thankfully I was quite early so was third place in the queue, otherwise I could have been there waiting for hours. The guard was coming around checking we had all the correct documentation, if we didn't he would send us off. I was sure I had all mine, when he checked he confirmed, it was all there. He said that you are not allowed bags or mobile phones in there. I had a bag and two phones, worse still I had nobody to give them to. I was allowed to take the bag in once it had gone through an x-ray scan, the phones had to be taken away though. I managed to give my phone to the receptionist of the hotel next door to look after. He taped them together and wrote my name on it to make sure. I was called in.
I had something really important to sort out, I had put it off for a few days but really needed to get it sorted as soon as I could. I needed to apply for a Non Immigrant US visa. I would be staying in the country over the date of my country visa's expiration and would need a proper visa for the remainder of the time. I went to the US consulate to ask and they said I couldn't do it. I checked online and I could but there were no interviews until a months time. I needed one asap so had to look around at all the US consulates across Canada. The only place I could find was in Quebec City. I filled in the form to apply for an interview. I got given the application form and needed to pay for the interview at a bank at the other end of town. I haven't said yet but the only available interview slot was tomorrow. I booked it as I had no other option. I read what I needed and needed to do and got it done that afternoon. I had to book a flight that evening as the interview was first thing in the morning and there weren't any flights that would get me there early enough. I booked my flight, it cost me over £350 for a return flight for one day. I quickly ran to town, got some passport photographs taken, paid for the interview and got the receipt I needed. I told Mike who forwarded the information onto his mother and father. We had a quick dinner then I was driven to the airport to get on my way. Jim wrote me a letter stating who I was, what my purpose was etc... I the hope that it might help with the visa application process. I got to my plane early and just waited for the time. I was so nervous, I knew if this went wrong I would be completely screwed. In fact it would actually fuck up the whole of the remainder of my trip. I arrived in Quebec City in a couple of hours, it was now 12.30am and I had nine hours to my interview but had nothing to do to kill the time. I sat in the twenty four hour Tim Horton's in the airport lounge, had some Timbits, doughnut holes, and a cup of milkshake. I read a the rest of my book, and started a new one. At about 4.00am the airport started to fill up a little more, until about 6.00am when the whole of Tim Horton's was pretty much full. It was getting time for me to leave to get into town for my interview. Some guy started chatting to me about George Orwell as he noticed I was reading 1984. He seemed like a cool guy, knew a lot about books and life and travel, all sorts, he was an all round cool guy. He was from Costa Rica and was on his way back home, he had been on a fishing holiday somewhere in the Quebec province. We spoke for about half an hour when his flight was called. He wished me luck and gave me $20 to help me out. It may sound weird but I had explained my situation, about Barbados and all sorts, and about my money coming to an end. He went off and I decided it was time to go into town. Things just got worse, there was no bus service into town, the only way to get there was by taxi which would cost me over $20. Things are going from bad to worse and I'm really nervous about the interview.
The next few days followed exactly the same routine, the only difference being me going to help pick some vegetables at Jim and Bev's allotment plot. They had all sorts, beans, peppers, onions, plenty of beets, and some squashes. We picked some fresh veg and made dinner out of it. We made most of the dinner out of the veg for the whole time I had been there and had more than enough to do it for the rest of the time.
We left the apartment in the morning, Mike had to get to work, the other end of town, the old part of town where all the factories used to be. We got some food for the day, I was going to spend the day with him at his work or just around the general area. For lunch we had some of those pizza buns, the thin buns covered in cheese, these ones had tomato sauce which was a great bonus. With the some muffins and some drink. The job Mike has to do on Sunday is to look after a Sports Gallery/shop aptly named thesportgallery.com. Also sort out some posters and covers from old sports magazines for clients. The day is mostly spent behind a desk on a computer, with, I would imagine the odd customer or two. When I was in there, all we did was play zoikz and tried to watch Raging Bull but I couldn't get into it. Whilst I was about, I only saw about five customers, but a couple were interested in photos and covers worth quite a large sum of money. To be honest, it was quite boring just sitting there all day long. Mike was telling me about this micro brewery around the corner, it was quite famous and had a very good reputation. I went on a mission to get some beer. I really wanted to try as many Canadian beers as I could. I had a bad time, beer wise in the states, most of the beers were really bad. Only a few would make the list for me. So far I didn't mind the Canadian beers I'd had. The Mill Street Brewery had a wide variety of different beers, from light ales to dark coffee porters. I had already had one of their lightest, the Organic ale. It was okay, possibly a little bland but would make a great session beer. I wanted to have some tasters, unfortunately they only came in set samples, I didn't want all of the samples, I only wanted to try a select few. I asked one of the waiters, he came over and said he couldn't give me a mixed selection but I could have a free tasting sample of all the ones I wanted to try any way. That was great, not only was I getting to try most of the beer, I could do it for free. I liked a couple and bought a pint, then tasted some more, and bought another pint or two. Annoyingly I ran out of money and they wouldn't take my card. Luckily I had the exact amount in change. I settled the bill and went back to the gallery to meet up with Mike before we had to go home. After Mike finished work, we got the bus back to Markham. I was rather drunk now, I had been drinking at the brewery for a couple of hours and found one of my favourite Canadian beers so far, 'Mill St brewery Coffee Porter'. It is a fantastic beer, has so much depth and flavour, has great balance and after one you want more and more. It does everything a good beer should do, or at least what I would expect to do. When we got back, we ate dinner and then did the usual bit of TV watching. I had got into a proper routine now. Watching the some music show until 12.30am when 'King of the Hill' starts on another channel, watching that, then putting it on the food network to watch 'Diners, Drive ins and Dives'. DDD has now become my favourite programme on TV, it is so good, it always makes me hungry. Kevin even joined me in this routine, to take some time out of his music work. Then I would go to sleep pretty later and wake up around 10/11am.
the sport gallery http://www.thesportgallery.com/
the mill st brewery http://www.millstreetbrewery.com/
The band are called, 'The Artful Vandelays'. When I asked what they sound like, I got 'loud' from Bev and Keving himself didn't divulge too much information on them. All he said was that they have a similar sound to the Muse. I was sort of excited to see them, the Muse aren't my cup of tea but I don't mind them, I could sit there, or stand and listen to them. We got some more beers, alcohol had been building in my system throughout the course of the day. The bar was really scuzzy but looked like the perfect place for a band to perform. They came on, played their set. I really didn't expect that sort of sound from them, they were quite loud. The drummer was all over the place, not musically but in his performance, occasionally standing, flipping his sticks in the air, punching his fists into the air, all sorts. Kevin remained relatively active for the duration, some times rocking back and forth and having a little wonder. The Guitarist was pretty much still the whole time, I don't even think his feet moved from the spot they were on. The singer was the strangest, his speaking voice was completely different to that of his singing voice. He had a very powerful voice that filled the room and got right into your ears. It was not what I was expecting at all. I had heard some days before, a way that somebody had described something, it was a double negative and made no sense but sounded funny. The kind of quote that will stick with me the rest of my life. It is a good way to describe the band. 'If you went there expecting the band to be shit, you would be very disappointed!' after the band Jen, Mike and myself went back to get some sleep.
check them out http://www.last.fm/music/The+Artful+Vandelays
The next few days were pretty relaxing. I spent the day catching up with some reading, writing and playing this game on miniclip.com called 'Zoikz'. The game is really crap but for some reason I got really addicted to it and couldn't stop playing it. Then I found out the Michael is addicted to it as well. I couldn't complete it, I always got stuck on the last level. It got to a point when I would waste hours playing it, what a waste of time when the weather is beautiful outside. It didn't take long before I got into a routine of waking up midday, having breakfast, playing Zoikz until lunch. Then watching the food network until dinner. I would occasionally help cook and with the cleaning. In the evening, Michael would get home, we would play some FIFA, drink some beers then watch some more TV. This pretty much went on every day. Kevin was in a band and they had an upcoming gig downtown on Saturday, so me and Michael went. We stayed round at Jen's apartment after it finished, it was a bit too late to get a bus or train home. Plus Michael (Mike as I will now refer to him as) had work in the morning. I got a lift up with Kevin and one of his friends, they were going to the drummers studio to practise before the gig. We had some lunch, I got to try Popeye's chicken for the first time. I was in New Orleans where every other fast food chain is a Popeye's and never had any then. Don't know why I left it until now but I did. It was okay, nothing special though, quite similar to KFC, but with slight differences. A little bit before Mike finished work, I left Kevin and the boys to rehearse and went off looking for where Mike was. I met him on the equivalent street to London's Oxford St. From there we went to a bar, there was a new complex with cool bars overlooking some busy streets. A place where you can go and watch people and the day go by. It was rather expensive though, that was the only downside to it, great view, nice drinks but not at pleasant prices. We had some beers, then realised that the cocktails weren't much more expensive but contained much higher volumes of alcohol. It made more sense to get some cocktails. We stayed for a few drinks. I had introduced Mike to this game called 'Farmyard Challenge'. Its a very simple game, one person draws a penis, the other person tires to turn that penis into an animal without it resembling a penis. If they are successful, they get to draw the penis and so on. I have been playing this game on and off for years, I doubt its anything to be proud of but its a good way to pass the time. I knew Mike would like it as he is very into potty humour. We were playing it for a few goes each when a couple sitting on a table opposite noticed. They couldn't see what we were drawing but could see us getting really into it and laughing a lot. One of them, a quite attractive young woman came over to have a look and ask us what we were doing. We explained the game, exchanged compliments, then we left as we were finished our drinks and game. We had to go to Jen's apartment to drop our things off. On the way, we stopped off at a Liquor store to get a few beers. I saw some English beer, Fullers ESB to be precise. I had to get it, I knew exactly what I was going to get and really fancied a nice beer. Jen had quite a nice place, in an apartment block near enough to the city centre, not a far walk from all the major sights. The time had come to go to the bar and watch Kevin's band.
I got settled, put my things in the spare room that I was going to be sleeping in. I didn't have a specific period of time that I was going to stay, I was made as welcome as possible and they said I could stay how ever long I wanted. After dinner we all cleared the table and helped do the washing up. They still have a rota for doing the washing up, I remembered from the last time I was here, they had the same system. Its fair I suppose and makes me think why we didn't do a similar sort of thing instead of making my mother do it all. That evening, we watched a bit of TV, the TV in Canada is very similar to the states. Most of the programmes on it were the same. We decided to stop watching TV and Michael wanted to show me his local pub. We left immediately and went to the pub. Like me, Michael doesn't drive. We would have walked any ways so that he could have a drink or two. We walked through some pathway that seemed like a small creek, I don't think there was a river though. The pub was made out to look like an old fashioned English pub, it was called The Duchess in Markham. We had a pitcher of some dark beer, I think it was from Toronto. It was okay, already a million times better than most of the beers in the states. The pub was pretty busy, they were showing a baseball game on TV. Since I had been in North America, I had really got into baseball. Actually, since the Caribbean. The team I support are the Toronto Blue Jays, I have seen them before and I have links to Toronto. I have always like them since Michael lived in England many moons ago. I found out that the drinking age in Canada is nineteen with the exception of the province of Quebec where it is a more reasonable eighteen. After the pitcher was empty, we went back home, watched some more TV then Michael retired to bed, I stayed in the basement watching some TV whilst Kevin sat in the other room working on some songs.
Toronto
As I had previously arranged with my friend Michael, I was going to get off at the Scarborough stop, not go all the way to Toronto. They live nearer to Scarborough, it is the rush hour so makes more sense to be nearer his house and avoiding all, or most of the city traffic. I was met by Michael and his dad Jim, I hadn't seen them for what seemed to be such a long time. Since the last time I was in Canada, about five maybe seven years before, I can't remember exactly how long it was, just that it was a long time. The traffic wasn't too bad, we arrived at their house in no time at all. They pointed out where they used to live and all the old memories of last time came flooding back. I remember skateboarding outside of their old house, and a little further down the road. Their new house wasn't far from their old one, it was literally down the road. You come out of the old road, turn left and go on about fifty metres and there you are. The new house was quite a bit smaller than the last one but it sort of made sense. Jen the eldest had moved out, Joey the second eldest had also moved out. The only ones living there now were Kevin, Michael, Bev and Jim of course. They didn't have a swimming pool any more which I will miss and I think they do too. Bev was out when I arrived, Kevin was about and was cooking up some Mac'n'cheese. Jim had arranged a bbq for me when I arrived so he got that all sorted, made a salad and within minutes it was time to sit at the table and eat dinner. It felt really good to be in their company again. Michael was one of my best friends at school and we have remained great friends for about eighteen years now, even though he now lives on the other side of the world. Michael works during the week at some company that buys films to get them into mass production. He is actually interning there for free and has the job of actually screening the films. It seems like quite an important job for somebody to do unpaid. Oh well, that's how it is. Kevin is doing odd jobs in music production. Jim is the editor of the Toronto Catholic Register, a local newspaper. Bev if I understood correctly did something during the week and volunteered at the hospital on Wednesdays.
I was really looking forward to seeing my friend again, I hadn't seem him and his family since the last time I was in Canada. It was only a matter of hours before I saw them all again. The bus journey wasn't too long but it was long enough for me to watch a film and listen to some music, even have a little nap if I felt it necessary.
I was leaving this afternoon, I had a shower, packed all my things up and checked out. I chilled out in the common room for a bit, then the time came for me to leave and head to the bus station. I couldn't find the bloody thing. I knew where it was and should be but still couldn't seem to find it. I think I must have walked past it two or three times now. I finally consulted a map, it was right behind me. I went in, sat on a seat and waited for my bus to be called. There was still a little while before my bus came so I read some of my book and listened to some music. The bus was called so I got up and into the queue for it. I was leaving Montreal, it made me sad as it is such a cool city and I really didn't do enough there. I have the intention to return one day though. Out of all the cities I have been to, it seems to me to be the most habitable. For me any ways, I could easily live there but it isn't somewhere that I want to live right now, its just that I could.
When I got to the hostel I was pooped. I sat in front of the TV and started to drink the rest of my PBR. One of the guys who works at the hostel wondered if I wanted to go to this big fan thing later. Its one of those massive fans you lay on top of and it blows you up into the air, like a sort of zero gravity experience. It sounded amazing but came at a cost of over $50, out of the question on my budget. If the Barbados thing hadn't happened then I may have reconsidered but it did, and I was near broke. I still had some of the fish left over and offered it around, I couldn't handle and more of the saltiness. A few people tried it, and a few people spat it straight back out. I wasn't hurt, I had enough of it already and was going to throw it away anyway. I had some food left over from the day before so I cooked myself some pasta. I ate, drank, watched TV and then went to sleep.
