Monthly Archives: October 2010

Canada – Day Three – Whale Watching

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Day Three is probably the most epic day of our holiday, as we packed so much in and saw some amazing things…

We start with breakfast at Marketa’s which consists of bacon, toast and scrambled eggs for me (truly British) and fruit, pancakes and maple syrup for Jo (truly Canadian) – as well as almond cakes for each of us… which were delicious!

"...but if we were you we wouldn't bother."

We’d also assumed we were the only people staying in the B&B but breakfast revealed a couple and their child from Washington, DC, and a couple from Switzerland.

After eating, we left for a walk into town and our first stop was to the Undersea Gardens – a boat moored permanently in Victoria’s Inner Harbour with large water-filled tanks fitted to it beneath sea level.

The stairs that lead into the depths are polished metal overhead and lit all along the floor which provides a very unsettling but amusing effect.

Unfortunately, the stairs are probably the highlight of the attraction as it must have taken us all of ten minutes to walk around. The fish, wolf eels, octopi and various assorted sea-life were impressive but there wasn’t a lot of room to maneouvre and some of the tanks were unlit, poorly lit, or just plain empty.

At the end of the walkway is a theatre, which quickly becomes the most bizarre part of our holiday. The theatre is a set of steps scattered with tourists sat in quiet bewilderment as a man in scuba equipment points at animals and speaks through a microphone (unintelligibly) as a booming voice-over teaches and instructs us on the highlighted creatures.

The auditorium... to despair!

Ok, that doesn’t sound too kooky, but the whole time this is happening there is a guy stood to one side of the auditorium speaking into a microphone in a deep, husky voice, Antonio Banderas-style – who finished sentences like he was trying to seduce us.

Imagine said Mr Banderas cosying up to you, running a hand through your hair and speaking the following as he uses his ability that can usually charm the knickers off a nun:

“The… last giant pacific octopus… was caught 15 years ago… and it measured… tentacle… to tentacle… fif… teen… metressssss…“

Heck, he would have seduced me if I hadn’t remembered and then pointed out to Jo that he was the guy at the entrance who sold us our tickets!

…but without any trace of Mr Banderas’ Spanish brogue when he did so…

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After a mud-run measuring an 8 on the Chris Ettritch Scale (a topic for a future blog), we then joined up with other tourists on an event called Sea Fun Safaris to board a boat entitled the Serengeti for a spot of whale watching.

The 750bhp Serengeti

The Serengeti is a 28 foot beast, powered by 3 engines giving it 750bhp, and it flies thru the perfectly calm seas. On board the twelve of us discover that we all have links to one another: there’s a couple from Oxford who attend Cowes Week every year on the Isle of Wight; a couple from Chicago (I’m a Bears fan); a couple from Florida, and the last couple in which the Brazilian boyfriend had also lived in Florida. He was also so flaming I wondered on more than one occasion if I should’ve dunked him overboard into the sea to cool down…

And when I said we came from the Isle of Wight he shrieked:

“Oh, I love London!”

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Our pilot drove us out into the sea for 30 minutes to where some other boats were gathered.

(In fact, we travelled out so far I got a text from O2 saying “welcome to America”!)

“This is the last site where whales were spotted,” he said, his magnificent moustache covering any movements his lips made. “But it’s coming to the end of the season so we might not see much today.”

The mother and calf killer whales up close

It was a sentiment that made me question the $129 we’d spent on the trip. Each. Before tax.

But, thankfully, all of 30 seconds later two killer whales broke the surface a couple of hundred yards in front of us. I’ll admit now, that it’s one thing to see these animals on tv, but to see them in the wild… it’s something else. And I’m not sure how many people I know can actually see they’ve seen these amazing 8 tonne creatures with their own eyes. I felt more than privileged.

They truly were a sight to behold, and completely ignored the boats milling around them, albeit keeping a respectable distance.

The whales swam to the surface every 4-5 minutes, took 3 ‘breaths’ and then dived again. Our guide said we’d just missed them make a kill which is why they kept diving, to finish their prey.

For 30 minutes we followed and watched as they rose and fell before our guide said:

“We’ll wait for them one more time and then we’ll leave.”

He said this about 5 or 6 times as we stuck around watching them appear again and again. It was almost too mesmeric to leave.

The Racing Rocks lighthouse and it's wildlife

The final time they actually surfaced all of 15 feet behind us, and we were only alerted by the sound of the mother blowing air thru her blow-hole as she accompanied her calf on their way.

We left all of the whale-voyeurs to their own devices and took off westwards past a lighthouse (called Racing Rocks) in search of humpback whales… which we found after another half an hour boat ride (and despite losing one of our three engines!). If the killer whales were impressive then this 40 tonne creature was even moreso!

The humpback was as fantastic as the orcas, but we didn’t spend as long sightseeing this beauty, as it was back to Racing Rocks we headed to see all the sea lions resting upon the lighthouses rocks.

Victoria's Inner Harbour

The lighthouse itself has a very interesting history, and maybe one day I’ll write a blog about it and tell the tale our guide told us about the lighthouse keeper, his wife and six children who one day discovered a stash of gold coins in one of the many shipwrecks that occured before (and during) the building of the lighthouse.

Afterwards, we headed back for the harbour and a well-earned rest. It can be exhausting holding on for dear life on a boat capable of high speed which makes the air freezing cold around you despite our heavy coats!

Victoria's Government Street - home to the Bard and Banker Pub

So, we ended the night back in the Bard & Banker, for beer and food. Again. Oh, and the usual and honourable mention for the pub’s staff.

We’d gone from whale-watching to barmaid-spotting.

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Canada – Day Two…

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…and we’re sat at a ferry terminal waiting to go to an island.

No, we haven’t taken a massive wrong turn and ended up in Portsmouth to go back to the Isle of Wight (still confused the fuck out of Jo), but we’re actually at a ferry port in Tsawwassen, British Columbia, and we’re heading for Vancouver Island.

Entering the Gulf Islands towards Vancouver Island.

The ferry port is massive and – as far as I can tell – it has three docks for ferries; one to Nanaimo, one to the Gulf Islands (including Vancouver Island), and then a multitude of different routes to several different ports in BC. The cost of our trip is $75 (one way) for both of us and the SUV. That’s approximately £40 for a 1 hour 45 minute ferry journey in comfort on a massive boat. Take note Wightlink Ferries!

Once on the boat, for the first time in my life I feel myself becoming a snob.

A ferry snob.

The Spirit of Vancouver is 167.5m long, weighs 18,747.44 tonnes, and travels at a speed of 19.5knots (roughly) using 21,394bhp! It carries 470 cars and has a passenger and crew capacity of 2100, and to entertain all these people there are shops, cafes, a kids area with tv and toys and a private lounge for those wishing to pay $12 to sit up front and receive a complimentary paper and meal. It also took us all of 15mins to fully load the ferry and leave for Swartz Bay, making a mockery of the IOW’s services.

The journey lasts almost two hours, but the scenery is such that it flies past and you’re left wanting to go around the islands again. Crossing the Georgia Strait you can see the Gulf Islands through the mist ahead, and as you approach you can see heavily tree-lined hills which often rise to impressive heights.As the Spirit of Vancouver passes between the islands of Galliano and Mayne a bay opens up before us and the Pender and Salt Spring Islands’ present themselves.

Seals occasionally break the surface of the water, and my attention becomes caught between trying to spot them and gazing at some of the houses that peek through the trees and dot the shorelines of each island. (I urge you to check this one out – 1601 Treasure Crescent, $949,000).

A fishing trawler breezes past us and I can see several oil tankers in another bay, and I find myself completely unsurprised when I overhear someone nearby me comment that people who live in the Gulf Islands very seldom move to another city or area. The views are spectacular.

We disembark at Swartz Bay and it’s a 25mile drive south to Victoria.
It takes us almost an hour to get there through the traffic, and at the end of the hold-up we see a very glum-looking man watching his car being towed away as a policeman writes him a ticket.

Our first task in Victoria is to find somewhere to stay (we’re so unorganised), and the pamphlet Jo picked up on the boat recommended a place called Marketa’s B&B. We found it on Superior Street with very little trouble and were soon booked in.

Marketa was very friendly and it turned out she used to live 50miles away from us in the UK, along the coast in Brighton! And I feel that there must be an honoury mention for the guests’ lounge, complete with old style tv and VHS player surrounded by old tapes! Very vintage and rustic!

Vintage.

After putting our luggage in our room we strolled into town (which took under 5mins), but as it was late in the day everything was in the process of closing so we scouted around and loosely planned out our next day’s activities.

We found an old bank converted into a Scottish-themed bar… so that’s fish and chips in a Scottish pub, while booked into a B&B owned by a woman from Brighton. Who says the world isn’t a small place?

Inside the Bard and Banker

I feel I should mention the barmaids of the Bard and Banker. They wear kilts and most of them look like they’re auditioning for Hooters. It’s now my favourite bar in the world. Shame it’s 4500miles away!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my body clock is completely fritzed so I gotta hit the sack.

But only after I’ve jumped in the rooms’ jacuzzi!

Jacuzzi in the house! Or rather, room.

Canada – Day One

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Booked back in january the holiday in October seemed to take forever to arrive, until the final couple of weeks and then we couldn’t get ready quick enough. I say ‘we’, but Jo was packed back in March. And i packed on the morning we left.

During the drive to the boat while we were still on the island I turned to Jo to make sure that we had the $2600 we had budgeted for.

“No,” she says “We only have the $2000 I told you about.”

The vein in my head throbs and my arse starts to ache.

Luckily, we managed to get to the airport without too many mishaps.

“For the last month we’ve been working out what we need for accommodation, food, etc” I seethe, “and we’ve ascertained that $2600 is what we need!”

(Looking back I probably shouldn’t have used the word ‘ascertained’. She probably thought I was swearing at her in Spanish).

Like any losing politican I demand a recount.

There’s $2600. I allow her this one mistake and let her stay in the car.

Hey, I’m not mean – $2000 would’ve been enough. I could have sent her a lot of postcards with that amount!

On the boat we exit the car and Jo walks out in front of a Tesco lorry. She obviously didn’t see the 40 foot, 40 tonne vehicle… and all this has happened BEFORE we’ve even left the island!

A short drive to Farnborough in Jo’s top-of-the-range Fiesta (it’s even got a rear wiper!) and we arrive at a longtime family friends – Liam and Pauline. We’ve known them so long they’re auntie and uncle by association!

Three hours of sleep (that feels like 5 mins) and we’re saying our goodbyes to Liam as he drops us at Gatwick’s South Terminal.

Tickets, luggage, check-in, a Tour of Duty (Free), a cold-but-satisfying breakfast in The Bridge, an hour wait (in which Jo suffers wind of Chris Ettritch sized proportion) and then we’re ready to board.

One of those machines fuelled by the collective will of those on board to stay in the air.

Cruising at 37,921 feet and flying up past Glasgow, The Faroe Islands and over Iceland at a speed of over 600mph, it will take us over 9 and a half hours to fly the 4500miles. Luckily I bought my own headphones and the onboard radio station is playing a David Bowie medley whichs suits my needs just fine.

I had tried to watch Kickass beforehand, but the flight company decided that there will be no violence or swearing in ANY of the films they are showing. I got five minutes into Kickass before I shook my head and aborted the attempt. Next time you see that (brilliant) film just imagine watching it with no swearing or violence and you’ll see what i mean. It’s like porn without any nudity.

I’d once heard that the best way to combat jet-lag was to not eat on the flight. I don’t know who told me that, but if I (or you) see them then tell them they are. Very. Fucking. Wrong. If I thought ten minutes of a kick-ass-less Kickass was hard then so was turning down the food that appeared a couple of hours in. The smell of cooked chicken and veg filled the cabin and I almost caved, but upon seeing the small plastic tray and lifeless box of accompanying cheese and crackers I smiled politely and handed it back.

“Wise move” said the male (and surprisingly not gay) steward.

I looked at him quizzically.

“You won’t be needing any imodium.” he said.

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To give you some idea of how big the second largest country in the world is (if you didn’t already know), we were suddenly above Canada half-way through our flight, which meant we still had another 4+ hours before we reached the west coast and Vancouver.

Looking down at what i first thought were clouds turned out to be vast plains of ice – breathtaking and beautiful. Clouds did then obscure the view until a couple of hours out from VC herself. Fields and unkempt wild land peppered with lakes and rivers and then endless stretches of road unravelled below us slowly. Perfect conditions allowed me to see any cars or vehicles traversing the straight, orderly highways – and there didn’t appear to be many vehicles at all… a far cry from the horrid, twisted, battered roads of the Isle of Wight festooned with elderly drivers!

As we then flew over the Rockies I attempted to get Jo to look at their majesty, but she was too busy trying to figure out why the onboard radio was playing C&C Music Factory when it clearly stated ‘Music From The 80s’.

I left the marvelling at nature to myself.

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What’s the best way to get used to driving a car in a country that drives on the opposite side of the road to your own?

Get in it straight away and drive out of the airport 30mins after landing!

Just a quick tip to anyone travelling out that way and intend on hiring a car. DON’T hire it when you book your flight. The car rental cost me £310 and when I asked to upgrade it to a 4wd model I was told it would be a further £300.

When I got to Vancouver and offered to upgrade it cost me $210… roughly £150 – half of what I would’ve paid in the UK!

An hour of driving around VC in our Ford Escape (complete with Sirius Satellite Radio – always tuned to a hip hop or NFL station!) and we’ve already discovered that Vancouver is a bright and vibrant city. It’s a Sunday and there are people everywhere, both tourists and locals, walking through the streets and packing the shops and beach, despite the lack of any immediate sun.

Vancouver City

We also learnt that Jo has (and should never, ever again) read a map.

After several… nay, many wrong turns we ended up at the first hotel we passed – a Best Western one with a sports bar attached to it. Perfect for this evenings Giants & Bears game.

While sat in the bar, watching my beloved Bears lose, I sit with my pen, pad and a pitcher of Bud to summarise what I have seen of VC this day.

It truly is a multi-cultural city, as are many developed cities the world over, but Vancouver seems to have a massive Chinese/Japanese community as reflected by the ammount of Asian shops which number as many as the local stores.

Despite it’s mixed-race core, the Canadians appear fiercely proud of their nationality and clothes are adorned with the maple leaf badge or buttons, and almost every shop and home has a flag or sticker somewhere on its’ premises.

Vancouvians are also very polite. We were sat in a restaurant where a waitress asked a customer if they would like dessert. They declined, and stopped the waitress as she was walking away to thank her for asking!

I also saw only one church on our travels… but a shit load of sex shops. And I mean frickin loads. An indication of todays society, perhaps?

Bars, food shopes and mini-marts occupy most roads and streets and it’s during this discovery that i remember always having wanted to try a Twinkie. I know it’s American but we’re hardly a million miles away and a lot of the sweets and candy are the same in both countries.

We try several shops but to no avail. If you’ve ever seen Woody Harrelson’s plight in Zombieland you will feel my anguish.

Meanwhile, sat in Chequers – the sports bar under the hotel  – I’m amused that I’m the only person watching the American Football on the tvs. An englishman in North America in a packed sports bar is the only guy watching the NFL game!

To be fair, everyone is watching three oung men playing in an alcove opposite the tv. They’re very talented guys with great voices, but a penchant for talking waaay too much between songs. And I’m sure one of their mums’ is sat in the front row watching (and interacting) with them.

But they were good, the staff were friendly and as helpful as the rest of the natives, the food throughout the city has been spot-on and all that was left was for me to finish watching my beloved Bears.

They lost.

If I Could: Things I Would Tell My Younger Self.

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Fuck it. Everyone else who’s ever written a blog has done it, so I’m jumping on the bandwagon – admittedly a little late, but I’m a damn sight more interesting and a helluva lot funnier than most of the blogs out there.

Now, if you’ll allow me a second while I finish blowing my own trumpet and patting myself on the back…

All done. Let’s begin.

1/ Buy shares in Microsoft

Come on, if you could go back in time you’d sort yourself out, wouldn’t you? And I don’t mean just microsoft shares, I’d be spilling the beans on every major future sporting event. Plus imagine how many lives I could save by warning about natural events… and terrorist attacks.

Mind you, trying to tell people about it all would probably get me locked up…

2/ Be a zombie in a film

(see previous blog) It’s gonna happen, but I’d rather have done it before I was 34! Instead my search continues, but if I could get my younger self to start the search X-number of years earlier…

3/ Your dad says the music of your generation is shit

and once you’re in your 30s you’ll be telling it to your kids, so maybe your old man had a point.

4/ Your dad also says that when you’re 30 your mind will still think the same thoughts as your 16 year old self

Your old man was right, which leads me to:

5/ Listen to your dad more!

6/ Travel more

This is probably one of the most important things I could tell myself. Rome’s amazing, but you… I mean, me… er, I’m about to go to Canada for two weeks, and if things go right you’ll be heading for the Czech Republic (for Hip Hop Kemp!) and Wisconsin when you’re 35!

7/ You’re gonna get a bad stomach ache during August 2008

go to the fucking hospital. Don’t keep working cos your boss says he needs you. Your appendix has gone gangrenous and you’ll end up under the knife hours after admitting yourself. You’ll also be kept in with septicemia, followed by four weeks off of work. You’ll also stop playing football and squash, and after over two years, you’re still not playing either.

You’ll also contract athritis when you’re 32, but it won’tbeat or inhibit you. You’ll be on medication for the rest of your life but when you ask the nurse if you’re the youngest person to have it she’ll smile sadly and tell you about all the children that are in regularly with their little bodies ravaged by it.

You’ll realise you’re one of the lucky ones.

8/ Learn to be a B-Boy

Kid, you got the moves and the rhythm, and you did fuck all with it all your life, except for watching dvds on the subject. Break out the cardboard floor and throw them windmills and flares. Watch out for that left wrist though cos that’s where the arthritis comes in.

9/ Music will play a big part of your life

You stay up for hours after everyones gone to bed and tape late night shows and listen to them in your walkman which you carry with you everywhere. Just do me… us… a favour and remember what some of those tracks were called. It will save you a lot of hassle when you’re older and hosting your own radio show!!

10/ Oh yeah, the radio show

You’re gonna host an online hip hop show… and you’ll have a strong and solid following. You weren’t too sure about it at first and the nerves beat you on your first show, but eventually it becomes so easy… and so enjoyable.

Plus you’ll make new friends around the world who listen in, and it even strengthens current friendships solely thru the music you play! And you’ll be surprised how many people love the same tracks as you!

11/ Learn to play the drums

Because you can’t and you’ll always want to.

12/You’ve been a slacker all your life until it comes to your kids

Then you’ll end up in court just to gain an hour access to them a week. It’s all gonna hurt bad, and bring you almost to your end, but you hang in there and now you’ll spend a lot of time with them. (Until they hit their teen years and dump you for their boyfriends/girlfriends!)

13/ You’re a mean and moody teenager who hardly says a word

and yet you’ll become loud, brash, outspoken and very confident… but it’s a good, good change. You’re life opens up so much more for who you are now. That teenager probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.

14/ Watch where you stick it

cos there’s gonna be a couple of times when you’ll end up with more diseases than a sewer rat. There’s even rumours you may have started the bubonic plague. When it comes to it, and that voice in the back of your head says “maybe I shouldn’t…” fucking listen to it!

15/ Write more

Music will make ties with current friends even stronger.

You have a talent, use it. You’re better at it than 95% of the worlds’ population and you’ll end up published before you’re 19th birthday.

Then you’ll do fuck all for over ten years. Finish THAT book, write more articles for magazines, but please just keep it up!

16/ Stay in touch with old friends

Aaron Mazareh being a good case in point. You manage to track him down and he comes over for a New Years trip and you guys rip it up with the old gang again. Next you’re off to Wisconsin to see him, his brothers and meet his family. When you can keep a friendship going over thousands of miles, then you know it’s worth it.

17/ You have good friends

You know who the knobs are and they’ll fall by the wayside. You’ll meet the better ones – Wardys, Inman, Big Dawg, Spraggy, Mat Carrington, Anal Ettritch, Big Perm, Joz, Clarkee… I’m not gonna list them but they’re good for you and they’re good to you. Stick with them. But watch out for Chris’s arse. It should come with a biohazard warning.

Beware this man's arse.

18/ Change your lottery numbers

You’ll do it from the fucking launch and you’re biggest haul will be £2000. I’m not even gonna work out how much you spend on it…

18/ You and Jason Tabrys are set to take the world by storm

Now pull your bloody finger out and get it going! (Just gimme two weeks, Jase!!)

That’s all I can come up with for now, and I know there’s so many things I’m missing out, but I believe these are the important ones. I feel these are the things my young self needs to know.

Now, I just gotta get the little sod to listen to me!

Of course, feel free to add anything you feel I may have missed in the ‘comments’ section below, and you’re more than welcome to whore my blog everywhere you can!

I also promise my next blog will be epic. A two week holiday in Canada, armed with my camera, pen and pad?

It’s going to be biblical.