Ramblings

Moving Blogs. Update your bookmarks!

2011-06-13T02:19:00.000-07:00

The time has come that my blog has to move. It's been fun using Blogspot for all these years, but finally I've moved my site, and created a website dedicated to my journalism writing and photography.

You can find it at www.benallen.ca

Enjoy

Flagpoling, bacon, and finally landing

2011-04-16T14:21:00.000-07:00

"You need to walk down the path, flagpole, come back and then we'll deal with you", the gun-toting, flak-jacketed Canadian Border Guard said to me; very matter-of-factly.

I came to Canada on a whim. It had been roughly nine months since I graduated university and the prospect of getting a "real" job was looming on the horizon. It was time for one last adventure, another twelve months of putting off the inevitable. I found a company online called BUNAC, who specialise in working holiday visas, applied for their 'Work Canada' scheme, and three months later I got on a plane to Vancouver.

Fast forward three years, and one huge life decision later, and I'm at Pacific Crossing, the US/Canada land border, about to give one of the scary looking immigration officials my landing documents.

It's a Friday evening, and it's raining. This is a slight issue, as the 40-year-old Chevy Nova that Tissa and I own is currently lacking working windscreen wipers. Whoever is in the passenger seat currently has to lean out of the window and manually move the wipers. I hope the rain doesn't intensify.

We walk down the path, past a stone marker signifying the end of Canada, and the start of 30 or so yards of No Mans Land, before the other marker, where you enter the United States. We're the only people on foot, and having got this extremely ceremonial, and perhaps slightly needless task out of the way, we continue back to the immigration office, where I get in line to be processed.

Fortunately we're the only ones there, so instantly the burly official beckons us to the desk. I tell him we flagpoled, and that I need to "land" in Canada, to finish off the past 26 months of paperwork, waiting, stressing out, and being tied to my job.

He ignores me and asks Tissa for her ID. She passes him her Drivers License. To which he asks her status in Canada. She's a permanent resident. But where is her Passport and Permanent Residence Card? "So you left Canada?" he asks. I guess we did, and technically that was illegal, as Tissa isn't in possession of her necessary documents. "Sorry," I reply, meekly. The border guard moves his attention back to me, and starts to study my documents. I'm told to sit down and wait to be called back.

A few minutes later and my name is called out. Mr Border Guard asks me the standard questions. Have I ever been convicted of a crime? Do I have any dependants? Have I ever been expelled from Canada? With those questions answered (no, to all - in case you are wondering!), I initial and sign a form - my landing document. A copy is put in my passport. "Congratulations", says the border guard. "Thank you," I reply. "This has been the most stressful process I've ever had to go through." The Border Guard breaks into a smile. "Can I shake your hand?", I ask. We shake hands, he grins, and we say our goodbyes. It's over, I'm a landed immigrant, a permanent resident, one of the locals.

We walk to the car and head back home. The rain isn't too bad, so we can see fine on the highway. Naturally, the first thing to do when one ends a process as immense as this is to find a place to eat. Bacon. Lots of bacon. We stop at Denny's. It's an American style diner. We both marvel at the ridiculous quantities of horribly unhealthy food on offer. Eggs Benedict. With Bacon. And a milkshake. Welcome to Canada.

Dreams become reality

2011-04-06T22:21:00.000-07:00

The Jewell of the Pacific. Hollywood North. Rain City. All are nicknames for the great city of Vancouver, which celebrates 125 years today. I am proud to say that I live here, in such a beautiful place, full potential, full of nature, full of life.

I am also proud to say that on the morning of 24 March 2011 I received an Email from Canadian Immigration officials informing me that they were ready to issue me with a permanent residency visa. Finally, almost a year to the day that I applied for residency, and 26 months since I began the process - when I started work at Mink Chocolates, I can breathe easy. I can be a long-standing part of Vancouver's young history.

It's not been an easy ride. In fact at times I felt on the edge of oblivion. From doing the paperwork - knowing one missed tickbox, or one photograph submitted with incorrect dimensions could spell disaster; to the waiting period of more than four months without a word of confirmation that my application was filled in correctly. It has been a stressful year.

At any time I could receive a letter stating that my application had been refused. I would have to pack up the life I'd built in Canada for almost three years and jet back to the UK to start again from scratch. But it didn't happen. It's been granted. It's as good as over.

The day after I received the Email that made all my dreams come true I sent the immigration officials my passport. Now they will be attaching my landed immigrant visa, and I will meet with an immigration officer to confirm that I am in fact me, and I will officially "land" in Canada. From that moment on I am just another local. No longer hanging by the thread of a work permit that might not be renewable, no longer worrying that I might have to pack up and leave. Finally I can plan for the future. The world is once again filled with opportunity.

One huge aspect of applying for permanent residency was my ability, of lack thereof, to leave the country. Thinking that I'd be long since sorted by Christmas 2010, the Allen family made grand arrangements for what would be our first Christmas as a full family for probably five years. Tom, my brother, and Tenny, his wife, would be in England from Armenia, and Tissa and I would fly back from Vancouver. We'd all be together finally, Tissa and Tenny could talk Farsi to each other, and my dearest mother would cry!

Unfortunately it didn't happen. It was literally a week until we were due to fly out and I had heard nothing from my visa office. I called the hotline and was informed that since my application was at such a late stage I was strongly recommended to remain in Canada, as if I left I may not be allowed back in. I'd be turned away at the border. Possibly. Also possibly everything would be fine, but it was a serious risk, and not one worth taking. Distraught, I called home and all of our finely honed Christmas arrangements went up in smoke. Hotel bookings cancelled, trips to London and Klagenfurt to visit Tissa's family were lost, connections missed. I managed to salvage my flights at great cost, and now we are booked on another trip to the UK in a few short weeks. Hopefully this time we will be together finally, in the place my adventure began three long years ago, in the green and pleasant land of England.

Memories flow

2011-02-28T23:05:00.000-08:00

One of my favourite memories from University is of a spontaneous trip to London to receive the gift of a free car. Naturally I have many other memories of drunken escapades, throwing flour around kitchens, sitting on roof tops drinking sweet Swedish cider, and organising, promoting and filming amateur boxing matches for no apparent reason. This incident however is one that lives in the memory and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

I thought about it again today at work, and decided it was about time to write it down, for sentiments sake. I remember the weather in Southampton, where I did my degree, being decidedly mild for what was winter at the time. I had been chatting to a good friend of mine who I knew through my various dealings in car owners clubs. (Anyone who knows me from back in the UK will know I was rather involved in collecting, restoring, and destroying cars in my younger years. The number of cars I’d owned or co-owned by the time I was 22 was the on the ridiculous side of 30. But I digress.)

So it was a mild late-winter's day. I`d been chatting to my buddy Marc, and now was on my way home from University. As I strolled down the damp street towards the T-Junction that led to the apartment I rented with two friends, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. It was a text from Marc. ”You want a free car mate?” it read. Me? Free car? What a ridiculous question. I responded. It turned out that Marc had been offered an old BMW by a friend, but was lacking the space for it, so he got in touch. Not one to turn down an opportunity like this I contacted the owner and said I’d get the train to London to his house the following morning. He`d get rid of the car. I`d have a new project. Perfect.

It must have been a Friday, or having said that, any day of the week (since we were students after all) – as my friends and I were drinking that night. I’m not a big drinker, especially not these days, but for some reason my final year at University was strewn with excessive amounts of liver abuse, and abundant instances of post-alcohol bed-ridden syndrome. I’d booked a train ticket to London for early the following morning. Maybe I was being too optimistic.

The new day dawned, and with it, my hangover. I tried to get out of bed, but realised after one step that this was a bad idea. I was forced to run to my trash can and filled it up with the previous night`s beverages. Not the best start, I thought. Contacting the owner of the car I explained myself and my current plight. I was met with uncontrollable laughter on the other end of the phone, and he agreed that it might be prudent to catch a later train, and see him in the afternoon. I went back to bed.

Later on in the day, about 11:30am, and considerably more pilled up on paracetamol than before, I made my way to Southampton Station, and caught the train to London Waterloo. I enjoyed the train ride immensely, as it gave me time to gather my thoughts, get over my hangover, and play with my new toy – a Nikon D50 digital SLR camera. It had been raining and dull for a few days previous, but today the sun had come out from behind the clouds, and the sunlight reflected off the puddles on the pavement, and beaded off buses, trains, and buildings. It made for a great first photography adventure.

I knew I was going to Hounslow, a borough of South West London, but that was all I knew. I`d never been there before. Entering our nation’s capital for the first time in a couple of years was an interesting experience. Being on my own that day meant I could appreciate the sites of the old city all the more, with no distractions. I was in awe of the sheer scale of the city, the Victorian-era smog-stained buildings running parallel to new, shiny developments, and the incredible convergence of railway tracks at Clapham Junction. I`d always come to London by rail from the north before, so coming from a southerly direction, and seeing all the sites from this angle was new and exciting. Everything was so big, developed, industrialised, but with that run-down, ramshackle charm. Here was England.

I arrived at Waterloo, and somehow navigated my way to the correct underground train to get me to Hounslow. I enjoyed getting on the old Tube network, and working out how to navigate the spaghetti-like maze that is the Tube map. The map has become legendary these days. It`s reproduced in all manner of ways for your enjoyment – on posters, T-Shirts, postcards. You name it – the tourist can buy it.

Arriving in Hounslow the train left the depths of the underground, and breached the surface. Again I was bathed in post-rainstorm light. It was a quiet afternoon when I stepped off the train. I remember being the only one on the platform. The feeling of being in such a huge city, but being the only one around was strangely comforting. I took a few more photos, and wormed my way through the terraced streets of the urban sprawl of London to the car owner`s house. I got the keys, filled in some paperwork, and drove back to Southampton.

Edging Closer

2010-12-03T19:28:00.001-08:00

Another day at Mink Chocolates. It's 10:30am. I've been at work for a few hours already, and the last of the 'morning rush' of regular customers has left the cafe. I'm on my break, sipping a Vanilla Latte. I think about the order of the day.

Lorraine comes in at 7:45am every day and has a large Costa Rica coffee. June, Angela and Idah order regular sized Americanos, a single shot Latte, and sometimes a couple of Dark Chocolate Fruit Parfaits. The Australian couple who live in Lions Bay will come in, order two large Mochas, and read the paper for 15 minutes, before wandering off. Terry has a regular latte in the morning, a regular Costa Rice in the afternoon. Latte Mike has a Latte - with skim milk, usually.

This is just part of the pattern will continue day after day. Week after week. Month after month. The longer serving members of staff at the cafe can often have a regular customers drink ready and waiting for them before they've paid for it. Sometimes before they're even in the door. Working in a coffee shop is fun - you get to know your customers very well, some of whom we now consider friends in their own right. I've met some extremely interesting people here. However after almost two years of it I'm about ready for a change.

There's an envelope addressed to me on the counter. It's from the Canadian Consulate General. "Thought this might be important", says my boss, Marc. He smirks. Important it may be indeed - it's four months since I did my medical exam for my immigration, and I've heard nothing. Is this what I've been waiting for?

I go into the back room and open the envelope. It's a letter with instructions on it. "We have now completed the initial assessment of your application" it reads. I peruse the rest of it. I'm told that there's no need for an interview, and I don't need to provide any additional documentation. What I do need to do, however, is provide $490CAD for the 'Right of Permanent Residence.' With that paid, and mailed by Express Post to my visa office things are looking good. Hopefully I'll have a passport request within a few weeks, so that the immigration officials can attach an immigration visa to it, and sometime early in the new year I'll finally become a permanent resident.

Things I miss about England

2010-08-07T15:40:00.000-07:00

Clearly, there’s a reason why I didn’t return to England, after my year in Canada was up. I found that Vancouver was a place that suited my idea of a great lifestyle perfectly. It was, I thought, pretty much paradise.
I’ve always liked the idea of being outdoors. In the year following the completion of my journalism degree I spent a lot of time cycling, walking, hunting down saleable items in automotive junkyards, and just generally trying not to be nailed to a computer screen. It worked, I had a great time, and my eBay flogging of seemingly useless car parts meant that, at least for a while, I did not have to get myself a ‘real’ job to supplement my chosen lifestyle.

Fast forward three years and I’m in Canada. I still spend a lot of time outside, but now I spend it doing different activities. I still cycle as much as possible – my precious antique 10-speed road bike is my livelihood. It gets me to work and back, and was given to me by one of my first friends in Canada, Andrew, and until recently it cost me next to nothing. However, when things started to fall off it at will I decided it was about time to spend some of my hard-earned cash on the thing. $200 later and I had a bike that ran smoothly, and didn’t make a huge amount of ridiculous creaking noises.

Besides my cycle commute, I’ve been spending a lot of time in Vancouver’s undeniably brilliant backyard. The mountains are just begging to be hiked up, so as I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been spending time with some friends climbing the peaks visible from the city. It’s an achievement to conquer any of them, be it a smaller one with a well-worn trail such as the Grouse Grind, or one that is more challenging, such as the epic, all-day hike that is The Lions. Scrambling through snow to get to the top, only to discover that there’s no tread left on your hiking boots for the way down is an amusing experience. I’ve yet to try a full weekend hike, such as the trail that leads from Cypress Mountain, which overlooks West Vancouver, to Squamish, half-way to Whistler, but hopefully I will be able to find enough time, and enough friends, to join me on that at some point.

As good as all these things are though; there are still a few small effects that I miss from my home country. Apart from the obvious things such as friends and family, the good old fashioned English country pub is one of them. There’s nothing better than sitting in a beer garden, cold beverage in hand, waiting for a hand-crafted doorstep sandwich to arrive, with chips (not fries) on the side. Preferably this would be by a river or lake, it would be June or July, and you’d be surrounded by old stone houses and fields filled with sheep. A few cars, and maybe a tractor, would pass, but generally there’d be the sweet sound of the English countryside. Some dogs would be heard barking in the distance, there’d be the soothing sound of distant conversation from a picnic bench opposite, and the trickling, peaceful backdrop of the brook flowing on down to the seaside somewhere on your left flank. The birds chatter excitedly to each other, and the waters shimmer in the sun.

Other than that there’s the cider. Cider is one of those drinks that offers instantaneous, joyous refreshment, after a long day of studying. I remember back at university in Southampton, heading to our local pub, The Giddy Bridge, with my close friend Luke, to have a pint or two, and talk over all things ‘Uni’. It was final year, and we had a lot of work to do. Really, we should both have been studying for our dissertation projects – assignments so huge that we were given a full year to complete them. I did mine in approximately eight weeks and did fine, but that’s another story. Anyway, the gratification of wiping the condensation from a chilled glass of Magners or Kopparberg, taking a sip, and talking about Wolverhampton Wanderers flirtations with promotion, and mediocre footballers, such as Arouna Koné, really capped off a day well.

Cider in Canada, however, just doesn’t have the same effect. It feels like a fizzy soft drink. So artificial. So acidic. It just isn’t the same. During my early days here, I tried to drink it, but ultimately turned to beer. As Billy Currington once sang: “God is great, beer is good. People are crazy”. Well Billy, I agree with you on about two thirds of that, but as good as beer is I just don’t enjoy it quite as much as having that special fruitiness in my drink. Bud Light with Lime just isn’t the same, sorry Bud.

Another thing – football. As good as it was to be able to watch the recent World Cup in South Africa, it doesn’t match Saturday afternoons in the pub, Magners, and Manchester United about to put four past Fulham in the English Premier League. It’s known as the EPL out in Canada, and that’s fine, but I don’t enjoy having to get up at some unearthly hour on a Saturday to catch the game. I manage to watch Match of the Day most weeks, thanks to the Internet, but it’s not quite the same experience as watching a live game unfold. Hopefully things will change with the Vancouver Whitecaps making their presence felt in Major League Soccer (MLS) in the new year, but I’m still not sure on the quality of the game out here, Beckham, Marquez, and Henry aside. Time will tell I expect.

Finally, there’s the English countryside. It seems like all I want to do is sit in a pub in some small, unfathomably remote village somewhere, watch football, and get plastered on cider; and I’m sure I will come Christmas, but there’s a certain charm these things have separately too. I used to love cycling along the old Roman roads just outside my home village of Middleton. The roads were narrow, the trees and hedges enveloping the tarmac, the sun’s rays streaming through them. Maybe you’d see a couple of people on horseback, riding to one of the endless fields around the area, or a fox skulking across the road ahead. It was just always a tranquil time to experience. Those days of limitless time. Endless freedom. Once I get my fix of these typically English things at Christmas I’ll be back in Vancouver, ready to complete another season of snowboarding after work, and every possible weekend, and once again be ready to jump off high objects into the waters of the Pacific Ocean when summer rolls around. Two years is a long time to be away from home voluntarily, so the Christmas trip back to the motherland will be one of great adventures, reviving old memories, and becoming refreshed once again.

Progression. Finally.

2010-07-15T21:31:00.000-07:00

One thing I've learned from my time in Canada is that emigrating here takes a long time. More time than I'm particularly happy with. I first decided I wouldn't mind settling here in Vancouver just a few months after initially arriving, way back in June 2008. Now we're half way through the summer of 2010. I'm still shy of the finish line.

Since starting work at Mink Chocolates, in January of last year, life has been aimed at one goal: permanent residency. I think it's important to have some targets to aim at in life, to challenge yourself, and to keep yourself motivated. This is mine.

Back in 2006, sitting in my dorm in university, I heard that the next African Cup of Nations football tournament was to be held in Ghana, in 2008. At that point I decided I would go, and I did. It was a great experience to go somewhere that at the time I knew precious little about, and I felt I'd achieved something special. Following that trip I needed to find new direction. I'd graduated university almost a year earlier, and so decided it was about time I explored a new part of the world. Enter Canada.

After a few months of temp work, and selling broken pieces of car on the side, I had enough money in the bank to get on a plane and start my new adventure.

My life has been extremely happy since relocating to Canada. I've made many friends, found a new love, spent huge amount of time pursuing leisure, and my ultimate goal of permanent immigration moving closer. It feels like I'm finally nearing the finish line.

I first applied for permanent residency when I became eligible for it, in March 2010, and finally I received word in the mail yesterday that I'm due to take my medical exam - to ensure that I'm fit and healthy, and won't be a long-term burden on the Canadian health system. After this things should be about done. It's the final hurdle.

The whole process, from start to finish, has taken 18 months so far. But to be able to stay in a place I consider awe-inspiring is certainly worth the time invested. As I write I'm sitting in a park, basking in the glorious summer sun. To my left are the skyscrapers of downtown Vancouver, and to my right are the shimmering waters of the Burrard Inlet. In the distance I can see North Vancouver, flanked by the majestic Coast Mountains. In the summer I hike them, and in the winter I snowboard down. What else could I wish for in a city?

Once immigration is complete, it will be time for the long-overdue trip back to England, where I've only been for two days in the past two years. Tissa and I will be getting a flight back for a few weeks around Christmas. Tissa hasn't visited the UK before, aside from a fleeting stopover visit to the airport, so it will be a great opportunity to play tour guide, coupled with seeing family and friends.

Also, we plan on moving in together, and are in the process of securing a house to rent. The one we've found, owned by a friends father, is in a suitably leafy neighbourhood and has ample DIY potential. My dad would love it.

With summer being upon us I've recently been able to experience some of the extraordinary hikes on offer, in the mountains that surround Vancouver. A few weeks ago my friends Berta, Chris and I set off to 'The Chief' with a view to hiking up. We decided that the trail would be far too easy to follow, so made our own way up. There were sheer rock faces, exposed ridges, thick pouches of trees to fight through, and other obstacles, but most of all was the spectacular view at the top. Our hike up left me with aching legs for almost a week. The adventure however was definitely worth the pain.

I've set myself another goal for summer now - cycling from Whistler back home. It's a fair distance through the mountains and down the Sea-to-Sky Highway, but it should be fun, and another good challenge to beat. Hopefully next time I write, it will be as a permenant resident too.

Vancouver Olympics - epic times, great memories, high-fives

2010-03-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've ever high-fived so many people in such a short time. It was Sunday 27th February, and Canada's hockey team had just won Gold against bitter rivals the United States, in the 2010 Winter Olympics. Canada had looked set to beat their southern neighbours in the gold medal game at a canter, before the USA tied things up with a mere 24 seconds remaining. The once jubilent Canadian fans in the pub we were at suddenly fell silenced, with the few Americans in attendance jumping for joy at Zach Parise's late goal. Proceedings would now go into sudden-death overtime.

Fortunately for the Canadians, the underperforming, but undeniably brilliant Sydney Crosby found his shooting boots, and scored the winner less than 10 minutes into overtime, sending the whole of Vancouver into raptures. People once on the edge of their seats jumped for joy, strangers hugged and screamed unfathomable screams, beer spilled, and everything was better.

We left the pub shortly after, and tried to get along Broadway on the 99 B-Line Express bus towards downtown. The street, one of the main ones in the city, was blocked though, with joyful locals blocking the road and playing street hockey. The police were on hand, but let things continue. This was no time to be strong arming. The time to celebrate was here.

Downtown was a sight to behold. Granville Street, the main entertainment street in Vancouver, was awash with celebration. The vibrancy of Vancouver's Olympics shone through, with almost everyone wearing the red and white of Canada. Security Guards left their hard veneer at home, carrying with them smiles, welcoming waves, and joining in the universal high-five marathon. People climbed on top of bus stops and up street lighting to get a better view of the crowds of celebrating people - Canadians and foreigners alike. There was no choice in which way to walk. The tide took you to the next location. Vancouver was a hive of activity.

Two days later and the city was once again empty. The Olympic Juggernaut had left the city, leaving with it only the remnents of the games - the signposts and advertisements, tourist info plaques and transport information.

One legacy of the Olympics was the incredibly mild weather preceeding and in the duration of the games. Authorities worried that the temperatures would spoil the conditions, and things got so desperate that snow was flown in to blanket Cypress Mountain, as the Olympic runs were barren, rocky, and green. Cherry Blossom, normally flowering in mid-April, was out before the end of February. It looks like it will be another hot summer.

When I first arrived in Canada I never even considered the possibility that I might be in Vancouver for the Olympics; but looking back now I couldn't even imagine life without them. Ever since I got here the talk of the town was the impending start of competition, with businesses flocking to the city to invest, and city authorities spending billions of dollars on infrastructure, to cater for the hundreds of thousands of extra visitors coming from all corners of the globe for the 2010 showpiece.

Now we are left with the benefits. The Canada Line Skytrain - a fast Metro link to the Airport, is a godsend for commuters to downtown from the south of Vancouver, and tourists from the airport. Roads have been resurfaced, more buses added, and many Skytrain Stations have been redeveloped.

There will be many pitfalls to come though. The games were countless millions of dollars over-budget - something that tax payers will be taking the brunt of, and there was the added controversy of native Canadians and their supports arguing that the games were held on stolen land, and events were damaging the environment.

Ultimately though, 99% of people I spoke to had the time of their lives during the games. Many people who opposed them beforehand had amazing experiences. I know I did. There were endless free events around for locals to take advantage of. Many many musicians from across Canada flocked to the west coast city to play free concerts - many participating countries had 'houses' where people could go and drink and be merry, and the mood around Vancouver was excited, but friendly. I know I had an epic two weeks and many many memories that will last forever.

Patience Pays

2010-02-01T21:42:00.001-08:00

I said to myself, when I wrote my previous blog entry back in November, that I wouldn't do another post until I had some progress with my immigration application. Well, Dear Reader, I'm posting again, which means things have finally moved on.

After 12 weeks of wondering I was finally presented (in the mail) with an envelope from the Canadian Immigration people. Inside it was a big pack of paper, which had the satisfying title of "Provincial Nominee Letter of Acceptance" written in big, bold letters. I've been waiting, wondering and worrying for three months now, in the hopes that this day would come. When I applied for the BC Pilot Project - in order to become a Provincial Nominee, I worried that I'd left things too late. The scheme I was applying for was a two year scheme, due to expire January 2010. Well, that date came and went, and I had no feedback from the authorities until a couple of weeks ago when I received a short Email informing me that my application was being processed. Thankfully things progressed as I hoped, and I am now able to apply for Permanent Residency. With any luck, I'll be a landed immigrant in six to nine months.

Now, all I need to do is fill in another mountain of forms, pay a load more dollars and continue with life as I was before. At some point I'll be asked to go for a medical, to ensure I won't be a huge drain on Canada's healthcare industry, and all things being well I'll be granted residency.

Being a Provincial Nominee is a huge step for me, as what it basically means is that the Province of British Columbia has decided that I am an important enough asset to the Canadian economy to stay in the country permanently, rather than leave when I am no longer able to get a work permit. Having the backing of the province, when applying to the Federal Government should provide me with huge swing when the decision making process comes.

With the 2010 Winter Olympics only two weeks away I can now sit back and enjoy the games, rather than worry about immigration. Everyone at work will spend two weeks wearing Hockey Jerseys from various countries, so we'll be in the spirit of things. Hopefully I'll get to watch some sport on the TV, as my favourite winter hangout - Whistler, is pretty much off limits for the duration of the games. I did manage to get a day on the slopes there a few days ago with my buddy from England Nick, but I think that this is it for me in snowboarding until March.

Anyway, things are good. I have no complaints. Time to enjoy the winter.

Snow, friends, and immigration

2009-11-12T20:18:00.000-08:00

Life in Canada is good. Very good. It's now November, in fact almost half-way through, and I'm getting excited. Why? Well, on my way to work this morning the suns rays shone down on my face, and the skies were clear for the first time in a week. In the distance I could see the results of a week of rain in Vancouver - the North Shore Mountains are now coated in snow. Here that will mean one thing - the ski and snowboard season is almost under way.

Being rather partial to the latter of those activities, and thus craving the slopes ever since my final evening up on Grouse Mountain back in April, the sight of the white gold to the North is one that got me very excited. I knew that the 2010 Winter Olympic Venue, Whistler, was due to open this weekend, but when I received a text this lunchtime from a friend telling me that the local mountains were also opening for business within the next 24 hours I almost spat out my sandwich. Cheese and Salami shrapnel however is a small price to pay for being able to go riding for the first time in seven months. How time flies.

I've already bought myself a pass that allows discounted rates for the duration of the season at Cypress Mountain, so that will be my first port of call. Soon I'll get to Whistler, but some patience will have to be enforced beforehand.

Another thing that I've been looking forward to greatly is the social aspect of snowboarding. This time last year I lacked many friends who were as into winter sports as I am. I had only a couple of 'boarding buddies, so now having made a number of new friends in the intervening 12 months who are as crazed about riding as I am I can forsee immense group trips to the mountains. It's going to be a lot of fun. I'm also going to enjoy teaching Tissa to snowboard. There are good times ahead.

So aside from strapping myself to a piece of wood, fibreglass and plastic, then throwing myself down a mountain at high speed, whilst enrobed in oversized and brightly-coloured attire, what else have I been doing?

Well, working a lot is the answer. Since I got back from my brother's wedding in Armenia, I've been catching up from my time off. It's not all doom and gloom though. I've now completed nine months of employment at Mink, thus I can now apply for the next stage of the immigration process.

As I've learnt over the duration of 2009, immigration to Canada is extremely time-consuming, and sometimes stressful. I like to think that I'm not easily knocked off balance these days, but immigration is one thing that does cause me a burden at times. It took a full six months to get my extended work permit, meaning I'm now legal in Canada until the summer of 2011, but my goal now is gaining landed immigrant, or 'Permanent Resident' status.

With Canada being almost entirely built on immigration these days, there are an untold number of ways to emigrate here permanently. A week ago, the day after I turned 24, I sent off my application for the immigration scheme I want to be on. Now I'm playing the waiting game. Theoretically I should have a response within a month or two, so once again I need to be patient.

Also I've recently been joined in Vancouver by an old friend whom I have shared many fond memories. Anyone who has known me for a while will know of my University buddy Luke. Back in 2006/7 we spent a lot of time hanging around on Luke's roof, playing PS2, being drunk, taking pictures, or generally driving aimlessly around the New Forest back in Southampton. Finally, in the summer of 2007 we embarked on something meaningful, driving around Central Europe, visiting hot spots such as the Nurburgring Nordschleife, the Bavarian paradise of Munich, and the historic city of Salzburg, with its baroque-era architecture.

The last time I saw Luke was in March 2008, and Luke and his good friend Felix I'd met back in the UK had flown on one-way tickets to Vancouver with the aim of buying an R.V. before driving south, to Central America, where they plan to teach English.

The day of arrival dawned, and so after heading to the airport I sat in Arrivals for a few hours, watching all the people the London flight stroll by. Around this time Luke and Felix were collared, and were grilled by immigration authorities regarding why they only had one-way plane tickets to Vancouver. Apparently there was no rubber glove usage, and eventually we were all reunited. Bantering about good times, bad times and ratherdrunken times commenced instantly, and the three of us spent a joyous time wandering around Vancouver, buying an R.V. which was lovingly dubbed 'Clive' before driving it up to Whistler for the day as a test run.

12 days after they flew in they drove out, aiming for Seattle and beyond. I have no idea where they'll end up, and I don't think they do either, but what I do know is they'll have a great time getting there.

Three continents, 12,000 miles, 10 days, and one wedding

2009-09-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

Salzburg, Austria. It's summer, and the waters of the Salzach river shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. Locals go about their business, and tourists wander the narrow streets of the old city. I'm standing with my Univesity friend Luke on one one of the many cobbled streets close to the river. Across from us is the house that the world-famous composer Mozart once lived. The two of us are in the middle of a couple of weeks of driving around central Europe, a journey that took us from Portsmouth in England, to the tiny village of Rauris in Austria, via France, Belgium, Holland, and Germany.

That was two years ago - July 2007, and that day was the last time I saw Tom, my brother, and Andy - his best friend, as they embarked on what was the early stages of their global cycle ride - Ride Earth.

Much has changed since then. Tom has cycled 11,000 miles - a journey that has seen his thigh muscles bulge to epic proportions. I, on the other hand, came scarily close to getting something apparently called "a career" a couple of times, had a few trips away to various places, before making my move to Vancouver in June last year.

In the intervening 26 months since I last saw Tom his life has changed in ways that he would never have imagined when he set off. Cycling through the Middle East, journeying across the Sahara desert, catching Malaria, finding unchartered villages, sharing a boat across the Gulf of Aden with 300 cows, and having heat-induced nose bleeds at 56 degrees centigrade in Oman are just a few of the things he's done recently, but those are all eclipsed by his chance meeting with Tenny in February 2008.

She is the reason I've been on three continents and travelled through 12 time-zones in the past couple of weeks. Tom and Tenny are getting married, and so I've flown to Yerevan, the capital of Armenia for the wedding.

My journey was not a straight-forward one. I travelled, for the first time since last summer, to England, giving me a chance to see my 91 year old Grandmother, and many of my friends whom I hadn't seen since I left.

The day of departure dawned, and after a Ricky's fried breakfast in Downtown Vancouver with Tissa, Thomas and Sophie, I started my journey home. I was greeted with overcast skies in London as I was reunited with my parents, and we headed for home.

Being back in England gave me a chance to go over my decision to stay in Canada. It had been a long time since I left, and although I had many fond memories from the place I grew up, I felt that after I finished university it was time to move on. Relocating to Canada was a whole new challenge for me, and when I left to start my journey, I didn't even consider the possibility that I might not want to come back. Now, I couldn't even entertain the thought of coming back to England long-term. Vancouver is an amazing city, and in the months I've been there I've gone from being a random guy in a new city with a bag, a bank account, and a 12-month work visa, to having a whole life out here - great friends, a job that I enjoy which sponsors me, a brilliant active lifestyle, a girlfriend, an arrogant Russian cat, and the opportunity to stay in a place that I love so much.

I decided that being back in England was nice, but only for a visit. It was great to see my friends, but having seen what else is out there it was time to leave my hometown in the past.

A few hours later, having spent as much time as possible with friends, and being reminded of the green and pleasant lands, rolling hills, dales and old stone buildings that occupy my part of England, my parents travelled back to Heathrow. Shortly after we touched down at Zvartnots International Airport in Yerevan. Tom was waiting for us, and so outside the terminal building the Allen family was finally reunited. After cramming five people and six bags into a very small taxi we headed for the apartment we had arranged to rent for the duration of our stay.

My first impressions of Yerevan were indeed ones of Soviet times. We sped through the epicentre of Republic Square, with it's grand architecture, housing the National Art Gallery and History Museum, as well as the Marriott Hotel. And a post office.

We arrived at our apartment, located in the centre of the city. It was then that I was also reunited with Andy, who is now living in Tbilisi, Georgia, and best man at Tom's wedding. I hadn't seen Andy since the same day I'd seen Tom, and the three of us together again reminded me of times playing football in Andy's home village of Stoke Albany, relaxing in the surrounding fields, and making ridiculous home movies about finding musical enlightenment with garden hoes and ski masks.

The following day I started to get an idea of what Yerevan is about. The feel of the place was decidedly Russian. It turned out that the main city centre was designed by one man, with many of the main central streets designed to line up together, so that landmarks such as the Opera House, and the aformentioned Republic Square, are visible for miles around.

After my first walk around the streets in daylight something else became apparent - I am in fact a walking circus attraction. Armenia isn't your regular tourist destination - in fact most people I've spoken to don't have a clue where it is, and here societal fashions seem extremely regimented. Almost all young folk, male and female alike seem to comform to a strict dress code. Whilst 99% of men I saw on the street wore smart long-pants, pointed shoes, and had crew cuts; I generally wander around in shorts, T-Shirt and flip flops, so with my lack-of-haircut and general ragged appearance I caused quite a stir on Yerevan's busy streets. On more than one occasion someone would see me, double-take, grin, grab the nearest person, and point and laugh. Being a cause of amusement or bemusement was something I got used to very quickly in Yerevan. Fortunately it's not something that bothers me.

Another thing about Yerevan which is extremely apparent is the sheer quantity of unfinished buildings and untended gardens, pathways and roads. Armenia is not nearly as afluent as Canada or the United Kingdom, and things tend to go unfinished. The Cascade, Yerevans immense white steps which are set into the south-facing hill on the north edge of the cities 'downtown' area is another project which remains incomplete. The project was started in the 1970s, and includes a series of waterfalls which run down the middle of the impressive set of stairs from Haghtanak Park and the Monument Neighborhood down to the smart Boulevard, which houses a number of higher priced cafes and restaurants. Although still an extremely captivating site, there is still a lot to do, although recent privatisation of the project means that things may, or may not, progress faster now. Regardless of this, The view from the top of the Cascade is awe-inspiring with the dominant Mount Ararat towering over the city, dwarfing anything else in sight. Many buildings were in a similar state, and sidewalks and gardens were often not maintained. However, this is in fact the case in the majority of places in the world. English and Canadian people just aren't used to it.

Tom and Tenny's wedding however, was a complete and successful affair, and was more than worth the 12,000 mile round trip. To finally meet Tenny, my new sister-in-law was worth the trip alone. Tom has truly found a match, and someone who is fun loving, laid back, and a joy to be around. The wedding ceremony itself was also something I looked forward to. The service was conducted almost entirely in the ancient Armenian language, so many of the locals could not understand what was being said. As well as that, there were no rehearsals. This made for a flying-by-the-seat-of-the-pants affair, but an experience that was a lot of fun.

Tom being Tom, there also had to be cycling involved. Armenians as a rule don't see cycling as a viable form of transport, but for the drive to the church my brother had arranged his friends at the local cycle activist group to bring along a rickshaw bicycle taxi, to transport bride and groom. Following the strange looking convoy of cyclists all in bright orange shirts through Yerevan's centre was an experience in itself. Locals pointed, pedestrians stopped in their tracks, and many grins were cracked.

Following the service, the wedding party descended on the Arma Hotel in the hills overlooking Yerevan, for the reception. The geography of this place felt a lot like West Vancouver - a place where some of the most expensive real estate in the world is located, and I thought about how much accommodation here would cost if Armenia was suddenly transported across the Atlantic to the West Coast of Canada. It's strange to think - the view from here was spectacular.

The reception itself was a lot of fun also. Wedding receptions in England are often fairly formal affairs, where it takes many hours, and many whiskys later for the guests to open up and have fun. Not so here. The Armenians and Iranian's - who populated the entire guestlist aside from the Allen family party - love to have fun and dance, and here was no exception. Between courses the dancefloor would swell with people dancing to Armenian, Persian, and Western music. Much Vodka and Whisky was drank, the tunes got louder, and the stocks of food depleted.

Unfortunately things came to an end too quickly. My week in Armenia flew by, and soon I was back on a plane to London, where I spent one fleeting afternoon catching up with a couple more friends, and wandering along the banks of the Thames, before catching the next flight back to Vancouver the following morning. It was a great trip, and one with many memories that I will cherish forever. Landing in Vancouver again I was met with bright sunshine and a friendly bus driver who chatted to me about my trip all the way home. It's good to be here.

A visit to the UK, and a wedding in Armenia

2009-08-25T09:12:00.000-07:00

So my second summer in Vancouver is almost over. The sun is still out, but the heat is gradually receding. The trees outside my work are slowly losing their leaves, and it's less than three weeks until I set foot on UK shores again for the first time in 15 months. It's going to be a flying visit, but one that promises to be packed with intrigue. I'll spend two days in the UK, catching up with as many people as possible, before heading to Yerevan, Armenia for my brother's impending wedding to Tenny, before flying back to Vancouver, via London, a week later.

Armenia is somewhere that before Tom's engagement I knew precious little about. As far as I knew it was a country near Turkey and Iran, and that was about it. Since then I've learned a lot about the place, the people, and the region.

Armenia is a tiny country located in Caucasus mountain realm of Eurasia between Western Asia and South Eastern Europe. It borders Georgia to the north, Turkey to the west, Iran to the south, and Azerbaijan to the east. The Soviet-influenced capital of Yerevan, with it's skyline dominated by the commanding Mount Ararat in neighbouring Turkey, is a large city with a population of over a million people, and the place that Tom has spent a large chunk of his time over the past 18 months.

Armenia is a place that has experienced tragedy on an epic scale less than a century ago. As Europe was dealing with the plight of World War I, large scale genocide was occurring further south in Armenia - at the hands of the Ottoman Empire, now known as Turkey. Although not as well-known as the Nazi-inspired genocide that occurred during the Second World War, it is thought that up to 1.5 million Armenians died between between 1915 and 1917.

Relations between Armenia and Turkey have remained strained ever since, with Turkish authorities often not recognising the past events, and presently the Armenian-Turkish border is permanently closed. The Armenian Genocide Museum has since been opened in Yerevan to help educate people about the events that happened almost 100 years ago, and this will be somewhere I look forward to visiting.

Although the wedding of Tom and Tenny is happening in Yerevan Tenny herself was actually born and raised in Tehran, Iran's capital. Tenny's family are ethnically Armenian, but have lived in Iran for many years, with Tenny spending the first 24 years of her life in the country before moving to Yerevan, where she met Tom in early 2008.

Their relationship has been blossoming ever since their chance visit that fateful January evening, and to finally meet my new in-laws, and have the Allen family back together again for the first time since mid-2007 is going to be worth a journey that spans three continents alone. The Armenian-Iranian-English wedding should also be an interesting blend of cultures too. I don't really know what to expect.

I've also met someone recently who has also added an extemely Iranian tint to my life. Working at Mink has allowed me to meet hundreds of new people on a daily basis, and with Vancouver being such a diverse place, the people I meet are from all over the globe. One day which turned out to be quite pivotal was when I asked one first-time customer at Mink where she was from. As it turns out, Tissa was born in Vienna, but settled in Vancouver five years ago. Her family though, is Persian, having moved to Austria from Iran back in the 1980s.

Our chance meeting at Mink turned out to be the first of many, and after getting on extremely well, and realising we had a lot in common, things have progressed. My relationship with Tissa has allowed me to meet even more new people - new people who I can call friends in their own right, rather than just friends by association, and it has made my second summer in Vancouver extremely enjoyable.

Since then we've spent many a day and night at friends houses relaxing, talking, playing drinking games, singing along to Frank Sinatra, listening to Pink Floyd, or whatever else. We've swam in rivers, slid down waterfalls, been to the beach in the day or at night, eaten meals out, driven to Whistler, and ridden Vancouver's new Skytrain line.

Something else I've been introduced to recently is Persian cuisine. Tissa's family is extremely close-knit - a lot more so than what I've been used to back in England. Huge family dinners, or what you could call banquets even, have been a regular occurrance recently with Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Grandmothers, Grandfathers, and close family friends all in attendance, as well as the direct family members. I've met many many new people in Tissa's family at these dinners, had a lot of fun, drunk my fair share of alcohol, and gorged myself on plentiful and delicious Persian food. This type of cuisine, with many different types of rice, meat, sauces, herbs, and fruits has proven to be a real hit with me. Unfortunately I can't pronounce the names of most of what I'm eating, but I'm working on it.

Ultimately, this summer has been a huge success, and the next major event I have to look forward to is my trip in a matter of days. There is going to be a lot of flying involved, and with that comes a lot of jetlag, but I can't wait. Bon voyage.

Life in Technicolour

2009-07-12T12:43:00.000-07:00

It’s 9am on another sunny Vancouver day, and I’ve just finished my bowl of Cheerios. I’ve got a few minutes until I leave for work, so I check my emails, do some washing up, and chat to Thomas, who has also just risen. Suddenly an unexpected knock comes at the door. We don’t know who it is. “Hide the cat”, whispers Thomas. We aren’t supposed to have pets in our apartment - it might be our landlords. I make a beeline for Handsome, who decides he has probably done something bad, and makes a break for it. After a few seconds of manic chasing around the living room, jumping over chairs and sofas I eventually have a rather bemused Handsome in my arms. Thomas tentatively answers the door.

“Letter for Allen Benjamin”, I hear a voice say, and so I join Thomas to collect a brown envelope with the unmistakeable markings of the Canadian government printed on the front. Suddenly apprehension hits. This could be my visa decision. I feel the packaging. My passport. Postman leaves as I hastily rip open the envelope to find a short, one page letter enclosed along with my Passport. “Your visa application has been approved, and your new document will be sent to you shortly”, it reads. Relief.

It had been six months since I made the decision to stay in Canada, so ever since then the prospect of being either unable to find sponsorship, or finding sponsorship but being refused a visa due to the current economic climate, loomed large. I’ve been very content with life out here, but always had the niggling doubt in the back of my mind that one day in the not-so-distant future that I’d have to hurriedly pack my bags and get a flight back to England. Now, a huge weight had been lifted.

Fast forward a few days and I had just cycled home from work. Thomas and our other friend Dave are sitting around in the living room. Sophie is at work, and so the other two are about to go bowling. Me? Well I was tired, and was planning on having a relaxing evening in. They leave, I stick the television on, but a few moments later the phone rings. It’s Thomas. “Come on down”, he says. There’s another letter waiting in our mailbox. A few minutes later I’m downstairs. We live on the eight floor, so the mailbox is a trek. I’d been checking the mailbox every day since getting my approval letter. Finally, it seems, my visa has arrived.
I am greeted with another brown, Government Issue envelope. Once again I tear it open. It is indeed my new visa. All I need to do now is staple it to my passport, and I’m set. But wait - the expiry date. It says July 2011. I was expecting only a year, but Canadian Immigration & Customs have given me two. I knew I had a two year Expedited Labour Market Opinion certificate stating that I was needed in this particular job, but I was expecting to have a one year visa, and have to reapply for a second on next year. Apparently not. I guess being English makes you entrusted.

The feeling I’ve had since that moment has been amazing. I’ve always had my doubts I’d be able to stay in the country, but now I have the piece of paper that allows me to live and work in the place that I love. Over the past weeks and months since I applied for the new visa I’ve been unable to make any plans more than a few weeks in advance, as I would never know if I was going to be around then. Now, this has all changed. Now I can get everything I’ve wanted to get in life arranged. And I know I can do this long into the future. Yes, I’ve been in Canada for just over 13 months now, and that has flown by, but another two years is a long time. Time to do so many things, and time to plan, plot and arrange life. Time to live.

It may seem like a small thing, but not being able to arrange to take a trip with friends, or save up for a new snowboard for the next season has been frustrating. Now I have a total feeling of release. I have no weight on my shoulders – something that I haven’t felt for quite a while. I have been extremely settled in Canada, but there had always been some feeling of uncertainty, or something holding me back. Now, that feeling has gone. I can now look forward to my future in Canada, the prospect of permanent emigration, building up my life here. I am completely at ease.

Next on the list of things to do is to head back to England. My parents had been waiting for my visa situation to be resolved before very kindly booking flights back to the UK, but now everything is arranged. My brother Tom’s wedding (see www.ride-earth.org.uk) is happening in Yerevan, Armenia’s capital in September, and so I will be making the epic voyage from Vancouver to Armenia via a couple of days in England. I can’t afford to take more than around 10 days off work, so I only have a short time in the UK, before I head over to see Tom for the first time in over two years, and meet Tenny my new sister-in-law, and her family. We have spoken on the phone, and over the internet, but have never had the chance to meet. Now, I am relishing it. The chance to visit a new country – one that I knew very little about until Tom’s chance meeting with Tenny in Yerevan one cold evening in early 2008, is going to hold a lot of intrigue for me. It will also be the first time my parents, my brother, and I have all been together since July 2007, when we sat in a square a few short metres from Mozart’s house in Salzburg, Austria, and ate lunch together. At that time, Tom had just begun his voyage on bicycle, and had no idea what his future held. Me? I was driving around Central Europe for a few weeks with my University friend Luke, and had no other plans formulated, having finished my degree a few short weeks earlier. Now, I’m living in Canada, and Tom is getting married in Armenia. Who’d have thought it? Life is Technicolor. I love it.

A Year On

2009-06-15T08:45:00.000-07:00

So a year has passed since I came to Canada. In theory I should be back home, looking back on my 12 months abroad in Vancouver, and telling my friends back in my hometown about my experiences. My visa expired a week ago - printed on it are the words "Must Leave Canada by June 9".

Well I'm still in Canada, and still working at Mink Chocolates. Fortunately this is legal, because I can still be in the country and continue to work whilst my work permit application is processed. After a number of phonecalls to check the status of my papers, I was informed that my situation should be resolved by the end of June. The whole process has been extremely arduous; I first started looking into the sponsorship progress back in January - almost six months ago, and only now is there some light at the end of the tunnel.

It is amazing that a year has already passed. Last week I said goodbye to Helen, my flightbuddy from Heathrow last year. Her 12 months is also over, and she was about to head back across the Atlantic to England, to save up for her next big adventure. All of my friends from Jericho Hostel have now gone. Lynda & Andrew, my Aussie buddies, have both gone off to pastures new, with Lynda heading back home via the UK, and Andrew driving across Canada in a GMC Yukon. All that's left now is me.

I made a trip back to the Hostel recently, where I spent my first weeks in Canada, the surroundings of Jericho Park, and the local beaches. The Hostel itself has changed dramatically since I was there. It has had a generous amount of restoration carried out. New coats of paint adorn the walls and fittings, the kitchen and TV room have been refurbished, and everywhere generally looks clean and fresh.

Visiting there brought memories of last summer flooding back. A whole new country, new people, a new city, daily trips to the beach, playing soccer with the locals, Hide & Seek, sitting forlornly in the kitchen at the end of June still wondering where I was going to live, trying to communicate with a guy from Chile through pictures, the huge Canada Day party - just endless fun times. All that seems distant now, but the photos we all took, and the memories we have remain.

It seems strange now to think of how lost I felt when I first started wandering around Vancouver. Anybody would be when arriving in a new place, an it is now great to see the pre-Olympic development gathering pace, and is nice to be able to get around the whole city without even having to think about where I'm heading. Vancouver seems very much like home now.

So by the end of the month my future will be resolved. One place I do know for sure I'll be going to is Armenia. On 15 September I'll be flying there with my parents from Heathrow for my brothers wedding - now I just need to know if it'll be following a flight from Vancouver. If so it will mean 32 hours flying in 10 days - pretty tiring, but it will be worth it. My brother Tom, my parents and myself have not been together now for two years, so being reunited, at Tom's wedding no less, will be very special. Tom is currently in Dubai, awaiting news of his Iranian visa application. He travelled to the Arabian peninsular from Djibouti on the East coast of Africa in a wooden boat with 600 cows. Since then he has negotiated Yemen, Oman, and finally the United Arab Emirates. He is now very close to being able to take a ferry to the southern coast of Iran, before taking a sleeper train to the capital, Tehran. There he will be reunited with Tenny, his fiancee. I am very excited to finally be able to meet her, and to have a new sister-in-law.

With Tom's global cycle ride in my consciousness so much in the past couple of years, I have taken it upon myself to embrace this eco-friendly form of transport. To think when we were both younger Tom and I hated the bike rides our parents took us on. Now one of us is cycling the globe. It is an extreme change, but a very good one. I've also become very much into cycling over the past year. That will probably come as a surprise to people who know me in the UK as the guy who always bought and sold cars, but I've tired of that.

Now, I cycle to work and back every day on an old 10-speed racing bike. It's very enjoyable, Vancouver caters for cyclists very well, and it has the additional bonus if providing me with great exercise. It's also cheap. Life is good.

Here's to waiting

2009-05-26T22:34:00.001-07:00

In two weeks time it will have been a year since I landed in Vancouver and started my Canadian experience. My year, from apprehensively meeting with my flight buddy Helen at Heathrow on June 10 2008, to staying at the Jericho Hostel, to beginning my sponsorship quest at the start of this year, to sitting in the living room of my apartment typing this with our cat asleep on the sofa, has gone by far too fast.

The past year has been the best of my life so far. I've got so many memories from my time out here with the friends I've made along the way, and it all started one afternoon in March 2008 when I wondered what I should do next with life. That fateful day was when I typed 'Vancouver' into Google image search, marvelled at the skyscrapers, trees, parks, water, beaches, mountains - all in one photo. I applied to join BUNAC's Work Canada program on the spot, and I haven't looked back.

With my visa almost being up, I would have originally been running around the city, seeing all my friends, buying presents and souviners, and saying my goodbyes. However, I am not ready to do that.

Back in March I sent my passport and sponsorship paperwork to Canadian Immigration services to apply for a new work permit, tying me to my current job at Mink Chocolates. Yes, I would be spending the next months of my life making Lattes, Mochas and selling expensive, but extremely high-quality chocolates to Canadian business people and tourists, but I'd still be able to stay in Canada, and live life in this paradise of Western cities.

Well, I'm still waiting for my paperwork to come back, but this kind of thing normally takes a lot of patience. I'm not convinced that my new visa will be back before my old one expires, but I can only wait. All I know now is that I have no flight home (it came and went in April), and Immigration has my means of getting out of the country (Passport) so whatever happens I'm stuck here for a while. I also know that I have everything necessary in order to be issued with a new work permit, so there is an extremely small chance that I will be refused one. So here's to waiting.

Over the weeks since I last wrote I have also had a number of visitors from back home. Katherine, one of my oldest and best friends, and my travel buddy from our Ghana adventure last year joined me in Vancouver for a few weeks. She had been having her own Canadian adventure - working at Panorama Ski Resort in Eastern B.C. With her season having finished, she made the 10 hour coach journey across the Province to stay in our Vancouver abode.

It was great to be reunited with someone I'd not seen in almost a year, and brilliant to hear all about her experience of working a ski season, and to meet her resort friends. Unfortunately for me, she returned to England yesterday to live there a bit before her next big adventure, but we at least had the opportunity to go snowboarding together - our first trip since 2005, and generally hang out.

Also, my long lost parents are currently out in Vancouver. Being my parents, they don't do things by halves, having flown to Los Angeles a few weeks ago, boarded a cruiseship bound for Alaska, and docked in Vancouver two weeks later having stopped in many ports up the coast of Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, and Alaska. I met them outside my work a few days ago and we enjoyed a drink together - the first in eight months.

This is my folks second visit to Vancouver, and so they have done a lot of the tourist sites already, seeming happy to relax at home, and around the city. We've sampled more delightful Vancouver cuisine. Yesterday's dinner was Vietnamese, and today's lunch Ukrainian, so we've had a wide variety. Tomorrow I will be reunited with my mother's spectacular culinary skills, as she prepares Roast Lamb and Apple Crumble - I can't wait.

So, with it now being the end of May, the sun is coming out. Every morning my room is bathed in sumptuous golden light, and our south-facing living room, with it's patio doors almost filling the entire wall making for a great setting for some breakfast on the eighth floor balcony. It truly is a grand setting we live in.

I also recently took a flying visit to the British Columbia capital of Victoria, on Vancouver Island. I say flying in the literal sense, as I flew there on a float plane. My flight buddy Helen is fortunate enough to be working at West Coast Air, who fly all around the Vancouver area in float (or sea) planes. Fortunately for me, she can get 'buddy' passes so for a very reasonable $30, we flew return to the old city on the Island. The flight was the most beautiful, if extremely short, flight I've been on, with the city, and the Gulf Islands between Vancouver and Victoria, only a thousand or so feet below us. British Columbia truly is a stunning place. I love being here.

So my plan, should my work permit processing all go smoothly, is simple. I love being in Vancouver, and with another year at least in the city, I will be making the most of life here. I am, though, planning an extremely short trip home in September, due to the not-so-small news that my globetrotting brother is getting married. His wedding, however, is not taking place in England, but Armenia (see the Ride Earth website), and as a result I will be flying to the capital Yerevan, with a few days sandwiched in England in-between to catch up with friends and family. I hope to be there for two or three days, but we'll see. Watch this space.

Is that for here or to go?

2009-03-30T20:55:00.000-07:00

It's been almost ten months since I made the trip to London Heathrow, and boarded a plane for Vancouver. Now decision time has arrived. After an initial day or two of apprehension when I first landed here I realised I'd stumbled upon a truly exceptional place.

My few weeks at the youth hostel on Jericho Beach have given me many fond memories, and the months after that which I spent living in a shared house on Granville Street provided me with many more. The people I met in those first few months were the ones who accompanied me everywhere I went. We wandered around Downtown, climbed mountains, went to the beach, cycled, and generally absorbed life as a newly landed Vancouverite.

Back in November I moved into an apartment with my close friends Thomas and Sophie. Thomas is from Glasgow, and Sophie from Lutterworth - only 30 minutes from my home village in England. We all met during the summer, when I was working at Business Objects, a Yaletown-based software company. We had since become extremely close and decided that it would be silly not to move in together, considering how well we got on.

We took on 'Bar Handsome' - as it has become known, as a totally bare shell of an apartment, aside from the basic kitchen and laundry facilities, but have since filled the place with all manner of furniture and equipment, both expensive, inexpensive, and things acquired through recycling purposes. Basically we've turned Bar Handsome into a home, and we even have a Russian Blue (meaning he's Grey) kitten - Handsome - to add to the mix. Our place is on Floor Eight of an eight story (plus penthouse) apartment complex. We're fortunate enough to have no less than three balconies, and with the building being the tallest in the neighbourhood, we have a commanding view of the surrounding area.

So, now living in a place I can finally call home, with me now being a single man, and with my work visa due to expire in June, I started to think about what's next. Do I go back to England and get a job? Do I move somewhere else? Do I travel down to South America? Do I join my brother in his cycle ride through Sudan?

There were many options on the table, but in the past few months, I've decided that Vancouver seems the right place for me at this point in time, and moving away from a place I feel at home in does not seem like the right thing to do for now. As I've previously mentioned, Vancouver attracts me in so many ways. The multiculturalism, the geography, the activities on offer, the people. It all adds up, and makes me smile every time I think about the place I currently live.

I have made some amazing friends during my time here, met people from places which before I got here seemed so far away. Where else could I go in the world where my workmates were from Kazakhstan, Canada, Belarus, Dallas, and England? It's a pretty eclectic mix, and isn't something I think I'd find back in my home town. My flatmates have become my family out here. We have fun whatever we do, wherever we are. It doesn't have to cost us anything - and it's great.

So, with this in mind I began to look into the ways of staying in Canada. My current visa is not renewable, so I would need to look into alternatives. Getting married to a Canadian isn't really an option, so my only realistic way of staying is to gain sponsorship through my employer.

As luck would have it, Marc - my boss at Mink, provides sponsorship for Alesia, who is Belarussian, and Ben, who is from the United States. An inquiry to Marc as to whether he'd considering doing the same for me came back positive, and so the wheels were set in motion for me too.

As a result, my British Passport, and associated immigration paperwork is currently at a Canadian Immigration office being processed, and it should, in theory at least, come back to me with a nice, fresh work permit inside, attaching me to Mink Chocolates. I have another roughly six weeks before everything has been funneled through the work permit system, so here's to waiting.

Aside from working on extending my stay in Vancouver, there have been a few other things I've been up to. Firstly, my good friend from England, Jordan, has been out to visit me for a couple of weeks. It had been roughly nine months since I'd seen my friends from home, so it was a great feeling to have one of them out in Canada with me.

Jordan has an interest in snowboarding, but had never been before, so it was a great excuse to take a trip or three up a mountain, strap on a board, and fly back down again. We visited the local mountains; Grouse, and also Cypress. The latter is where Jordan did his first piece of riding on a real mountain, aside from a hill near his house when it spent a week snowing back in England. Fortunately he picked snowboarding up quickly, and so we made the extremely necessary trip up the Sea-to-Sky Highway to the legendary Whistler-Blackcomb.

The day involved leaving the house at 5:30am to catch the Snowbus, but this was a small price to pay for an excellent days riding. Whistler is a two hour bus journey from the city, but is head and shoulders above anything available in the local area. The view from Whistler peak, punctuated by the native Canadian Inukshuk, was awe-inspiring. It was like being on top of the world.

As well as spending time with friends, I've been trying yet more new cuisine. I often sample the delights of the Middle East, with Shawarma and Falafel being a mainstay of my diet. I enjoy many Sushi-based meals, but one evening recently I embarked on a Russian expedition. I have a number of Russian-speaking friends out in Vancouver, and so with many of them being fellow immigrants they enjoy good old fashioned home cooking. In the same way I crave a proper greasy fry-up once in a while, these guys enjoy Borsch, Vodka and Crepes. So that's exactly what we had the other night.

Borsch is an Eastern European soup with the primary ingredient being beetroot, giving it a red sheen. Ours had a whole range of different vegetables included and was frankly delicious. Naturally, being surrounded by Russians, there was a fair amount of Vodka consumption also, and Russian style crepes were there in abundance.

With time ticking away, spring has finally arrived in Vancouver. The clocks have been moved one hour forward, the air temperature is gradually heating up, and cherry blossom is forming on the trees. I for one cannot wait for summer to arrive. I love making the most of the surrounding mountains, but being able to cycle everywhere in the sunshine, wear shorts without drawing looks of amazement, and go to the beach are things I now crave.

Vancouver is a place of endless possibility, particularly in the summer, and with the prospect of a second summer in the city looming, I'm feeling positive about the future. My parents are set to make a second trip to the city to visit me towards the end of May, and I will also be joined by another old friend in the city in a month or two. I think summer 2009 could be fun.

Snowboards and Chocolate

2009-02-13T16:21:00.000-08:00

On the afternoon of June 10 2008, my first day in Canada; my flight-buddy Helen and I wandered lost around Downtown Vancouver. It was a grey and overcast day, we were both tired from a 10-hour flight, and neither of us really had an idea of where to go. Nevertheless we decided that random, improvised exploration was a good idea. After taking in the sights of Canada Place, staring at the under-construction Olympic Exhibition Centre (it’s still not finished – but it does have a grass-covered roof), and watching the float planes take off from Coal Harbour, we wandered back into the city. Looking back I have this vague recollection of turning to Helen at one point and saying “hey look - a chocolate café.” We went in, had a quick perusal of the wares on sale, and left with a mental note to be back again soon – to actually buy something.

Little did I know that Mink, the Chocolate Café we’d stumbled upon, would eventually become my primary hang out in Vancouver. Shortly after this chance encounter, I met Lynda and Andrew at the Jericho Beach Hostel, and became very close with them. Following Lynda’s own discovery of Mink, and eventual employment there, I would spend many an afternoon sitting at the Mink bar chatting to the guys working there when I had nothing better to do.

Now, nine months down the line, I find myself on the other side of the counter that I stood at back in June, helping sell the array of Chocolates and coffee-based drinks that Mink has to offer.

For the duration of November and December, I was employed at the reception desk of Ceridian Canada, a HR and payroll company, up on 73rd Avenue. My daily commute took an hour each way, but two months of solid work was great for my dwindling bank balance, but when my tenure at Ceridian came to an end at the start of January I was left unemployed once again. Day after day I would call around the job agencies I was had been working with, and went on board with a couple more, but to no avail. During this time I would spend a lot of time hanging around at Mink, sitting on my borrowed laptop, on the free wireless they had.

Three weeks of January came and went, and the only work I had was a few days working as a typist for a Business Writing firm. This was good, as I could work from home (or rather Mink) on my laptop, and it paid relatively well. Unfortunately, I was still getting nowhere with employment on a full-time basis, so one day I spoke to Marc, the owner of Mink, about a job there.

Thanks to all the time I’d spent there over the past few months, I was well-known to Marc already, and after an interview I started behind the counter. I’ve been there a few weeks now, and I love the job. It doesn’t exactly pay too well, but I enjoy talking to our customers, a lot of whom are regulars, and hanging around with a bunch of friends I already knew. Ultimately it’s a job I actually look forward to going to in the morning, rather than dreading it.

Having a regular, full-time income has allowed me to engage in some more recreational activity. I did come here to enjoy myself after all, and this being the Canadian winter, the natural thing to do would be winter sports. My sport of choice is snowboarding, so with all my ‘boarding gear purchased I just have to pay for lift passes when I want to go, which makes things much cheaper.

Thus far I’ve only managed a few days – I’ve been to Whistler Blackcomb, Mount Seymour, and Grouse Mountain. The runs on offer vary widely, from the world-class terrain of Whistler, to the short, sharp trails of Seymour, but the views from each are absolutely stunning. Last week I went up Grouse Mountain with my Belarusian buddies Alesia, and Dasha. They had never been on snowboards before so I helped them with a bit of tuition, before heading off when they went home, to ride alone for the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening.

The view of Metro Vancouver from the top of Grouse is truly beautiful. To the east you can see Vancouver stretch out into the distance, to Coquitlam, Port Moody, and onwards south-east towards Mount Baker, over the United States border. Look straight ahead of you and you can see Downtown Vancouver with its skyscrapers, Stanley Park stretching out to First Narrows, The Lions Gate Bridge, and the Peninsula that encompasses Kitsilano, Jericho and UBC. Look further to the west and the hills of Vancouver Island are clear to see on the horizon. All the cars in BC have “Beautiful British Columbia” slogans on the license plates. It truly is.

After a few runs down Grouse I got the lift back to the mountains peak, and sat for a while, to wait for the sunset. I was joined by a friendly bunch of fellow ex-pat photographers from Poland, who were also waiting for the sunset. We all sat around for an hour or so, and finally the sun began to fall behind Vancouver Island.

The view became even more beautiful at this point. As the suns rays dimmed, the lights of the city came on, as south-western BC was bathed in the final, golden shimmers of evening. Watching the flickering of the city lights from up in the clouds was a truly magical experience, and was awe-inspiring to be able to sit and take it all in with my own thoughts. British Columbia truly is a beautiful place. I don’t want to leave.

A new year, and a new start

2009-01-13T15:59:00.000-08:00

It’s a new year for Ben in British Columbia, and with it comes a renewed wealth of opportunity. 2008 was an interesting one for me. I visited three continents, lived on two of them, and ended the year roughly 7,000 kilometres away from my sleepy Northamptonshire village, living on the west coast of North America. However interesting my year seems though, I can’t really compare it to the year that Tom, my brother, had.

He started 2008 in Yerevan, the capital city of Armenia, the tiny former Soviet nation sandwiched in the Caucasus bordering Iran, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Turkey. Tom originally arrived there as part of his global bicycle ride attempt, Ride Earth, and planned to stay just three days, before heading southeast, into Iran. As it happened he was stuck there for an extra few weeks, due to the delay of a sleeping bag he was expecting. Fate, it seems, kept him in Yerevan, as one evening he bumped into Tenny. Nine months passed (no, it isn’t that sort of nine months), and he was still there, renting a cramped, Communist-era flat in the heart of the Armenian capital, editing websites in his boxers, spending many hours and days of quality time with his new Armenia-Iranian girlfriend, and planning to continuing his cycle ride with her.

Now it’s November - a few short weeks before Christmas, and in the Allen house in Middleton, Northamptonshire there’s a knock at the door. It’s Tom. He’s home. And Tenny is with him. They’re back in England for a short time only, having travelled back by a combination of hitch hiking, train rides and ferries over the course of 16 days. They came from Tenny’s family home in Tehran, Iran - having previously cycled there from Yerevan. It took a train ride from Tehran to Istanbul, another train from Istanbul to Athens (before the riots started), a boat up the Adriatic to Venice, and from there they hitched most of the way home. After spending Christmas in England, Tenny is now back in Tehran, having flown home a few days ago, and Tom is hitch hiking back to Istanbul to collect his bike, and carrying on, taking a very route scenic back to Tehran. You can read the full story on the Ride Earth website. It’s an interesting story, I highly recommend it.

But anyway, back to my year. It has definitely been an interesting time. Having returned from my trip to Ghana in February I sat around and pondered what to do with life. I’d done various shorter trips abroad in the months since finishing University, but something was missing. I decided, eventually, that I needed to move somewhere else – to experience what it feels like to live thousands of miles away from home in a totally new environment, where it would just be me – a whole new start, and a whole new challenge.

Eventually I came across Canada – and the ease in which young English people with a lack of desire to pursue a career could obtain temporary work visas. At the time I knew nothing of Canada apart from it being close to the United States, and it was big. Pretty limited then. Having chatted to my folks on this winters afternoon about the possibility they told me that Vancouver, on the west coast, was supposed to be extremely nice.

Cue Google Image Search. “Damn”, I thought, as I stared at aerial photographs of skyscrapers, sea, beaches, parks and mountains – all in one shot. “That looks cool” With that, a trip to the library followed to get a book on the city. Five pages was all it took – I applied for the program that same afternoon.

In hindsight, it was the best thing I ever did. It has been an eye-opening, culturally fulfilling, broadening experience. As I said, I knew nothing of Canada at the start of 2008, so coming here, learning about how varied the landscape is (sea, to mountains, to prairies, to lakes, to arctic tundra), how it is the second largest country in the world (geographically – after Russia), how you can fit the UK into British Columbia roughly four times, and how it’s a buzzing, cosmopolitan feast for the senses, due to being almost entirely made up of immigrants from absolutely everywhere, has been amazing for me.

My opinions on globalisation, immigration, and diversity are all for it. I think it is an extreme positive when people from other backgrounds and other cultures come together – and Vancouver is a melting pot for that. The city welcomes it with open arms, positively encourages variety, celebrates different cultures, lifestyles, and opinions coming together to form one, diverse, liberal society. In Vancouver there is something for everyone, and I feel totally at home as part of it.

So what have I been up to recently? Well, Christmas has just been and gone, and with that came an epic dump of snow which battered the city for two full weeks. Vancouver isn’t generally considered a snowy place – due to a jet stream from the South Pacific keeping temperatures, and thus snowfall, to a reasonable level, but a few days before Christmas Day, the city was treated to a blizzard of biblical proportions. Being totally unable to cope, the city ground to a halt. Buses were unable to run, cars were buried, shops and businesses closed, and people were unable to get to work. It was chaos. Brilliant chaos. We took the opportunity to go sledging – something I’ve personally not done for about 15 years, and Vancouverites celebrated their first white Christmas since 1998.

Our Christmas Day was pretty memorable also. My flatmate Sophie had her family over to visit from England, and after a few days in the city, they had all driven up to the Olympic ski resort, Whistler, to stay at a chalet over the Christmas period. Thomas, my other flatmate, and I, drove up on Christmas morning to spend the day there. The highway up – known as the Sea to Sky, was extremely treacherous, given the current conditions, but after three separate pant-browning moments on the way we arrived.

I have to say Whistler is a truly spectacular place. I visited before, at the end of summer, with my folks when they came to visit, but in winter it is something else. After having breakfast at their chalet (a seriously beautiful chalet I might add) we wandered up to Whistler village. The whole place was a hive of activity, transformed from the quiet, relaxed atmosphere we experienced in September. We went up Whistler Mountain on the gondola, revelled in not-a-cloud-in-the-sky weather, and took the new “Peak 2 Peak” gondola across to Blackcomb Mountain, and stared at the valleys, and surrounding mountains. Awe-inspiring.

After that I could not help myself, but to spend the afternoon snowboarding down Blackcomb, with Sophie’s dad, brother and sister. I’d not been on a board in about two years, but it was worth it, and everything came back very quickly. The afternoon flew by, we got to the foot of the mountain, went back up again, and before we knew it, it was time for Thomas and I to drive back to Vancouver. We had a 20 pound turkey in the oven, and two friends (Aussie Dave, and Sara from Toronto) patiently awaiting our return – for Christmas Dinner.

So now, the holiday season is over once more. A new year has begun, and that means a whole new start. The ski season is in full swing, the days are fresh, but very cold, and I have all my snowboard gear together. I think 2009 could be another interesting year.

Time flies when you're having fun

2008-12-12T15:16:00.000-08:00

Wednesday marked six months of living in Vancouver.

What can I say really? It has flown by, well and truly. Having said that, living in the hostel down at Jericho Beach does seem an age ago, but the memories are just as clear. Our days consisted of getting up late, sitting on the beach, eating Banana Bread, watching Euro 2008, meeting new people, playing soccer in the park, and catching the 44 Downtown.

Things have changed a lot since then. I've had endless jobs, periods of financial security, and periods of financial ruin. I've had two bikes, one puncture, two trips to the 'States, one bus pass, three plane rides, one train ride, endless bus rides, one Racoon bite, many good times, and a few bad times - but ultimately I have had an incredibly fulfilling time here, made so many new friends, and made memories that I will cherish forever.

I've found Vancouver to be such a friendly, welcoming place. The people here are from all walks of life, all corners of the globe. Some are rich and some are poor, but everyone is equally friendly. Until I came here I'd never met anyone from places like Jordan, Hungary, Iran, Serbia, Eritrea and Bolivia; but in Vanouver the people are from everywhere.

With this cosmopolitan atmosphere comes a wealth of choice when it comes to food and drink. Just yesterday I sampled the delights of a South Indian restaurant for the first time - a contrast to what we would call traditional Indian dishes in England. Gone are the Kormas, Tandooris, and pieces of chicken. What we ate was far more vegetable based, with potato, pickle, yoghurt, extremely light fried bread, rice, and dishes that contained pots of a large variety of different foods to mix with your bread. I had no idea what most of it was, but I sure did enjoy it. I ate a lot.

I've also sampled the delights of Lebanese food. It seems similar to Greek, with fried chicken, rice, houmous, pita bread, salad and spicy sauce - and it is truly exceptional. Sushi is another favourite in Vancouver. It can be found in abundance here, it is of the highest quality - and is also extremely cheap. My experience of Sushi in England wasn't great. It was edible, but at the same time it was overpriced, and didn't taste anything like as good as what I've sampled here.

As well as this, there's plenty more world foods on offer. Everything you could want you can find almost anywhere in the city. Try Malaysian, Chinese, Kenyan, Thai, Ethiopian, Vietnamese, Italian, Mexican, Brazilian. Whatever you want is here. No stone is left unturned.

So, my feelings for Vancouver, a place I have come to adore, remain. I find the outlook on life here so positive, the people upbeat, strangers more willing to chat, people generally being happy. I still have plenty of time left, and in that time I will try and cram in as much as I can - be it visiting another Canadian city, going to the Rocky Mountains, spending the weekends snowboarding, making a trip to Vancouver Island, or just relaxing in the city - all money permitting. I, for one, cannot wait.

Snow time like the present

2008-12-02T14:38:00.000-08:00

As you may have gathered by the incredibly well-crafted title to this post, the time has come in Vancouver to don an extra layer of clothing, some thicker socks, and to arm yourself with an umbrella. Yes, you've guessed it - winter is in full swing.

Vancouver seems a very different place now compared to what it was just a few short months ago - cycling Downtown in the morning sun, getting a tan on Jericho Beach, sitting at the Quay in North Van. They all seem very far away now.

The T-Shirt and shorts-wearing days have now been firmly confined to the past, and everyday clothing now consists of jeans, jackets, hoodies and hats.

However, it's not all bad. Vancouver is a lot milder than other Canadian cities such as Toronto or Montreal in winter, and there's still plenty to see and do here. Having finally spent $73 on a monthly bus pass after being here six months, I can use public transport to get wherever I want, whenever I want, instead of buying endless tickets. Getting the bus to Lynda and Andrew's house or heading Downtown on the Skytrain can now easily be done whenever the feeling takes me.

But where the winter in England brings people indoors: to their homes, the local pub, the cinema, bowling alley, or shopping centre; residents of British Columbia instead put away their flip-flops and volleyballs, pull out some thermal underwear, strap on a pair of skis and throw themselves down a bloody great mountain, at high speed.

There are a multitude of options in the Vancouver area for people who want to ski, snowboard, or just spend time in a mountain cafe relaxing. Whistler-Blackcomb, the world-famous ski resort, is probably the best in the area, with thousands of people flocking there every year. The village, which will play host to the 2010 Winter Olympics, is located only 70 miles from Vancouver, and officially opened for the winter last week.

Back in September I was lucky enough to take a float plane to Whistler with my parents when they came to visit, and through the rain that poured throughout that memorable day, was met with the picturesque Whistler village, nestled between the mountains of Blackcomb, and Whistler itself. The village and the two peaks make up the resort, and whilst the summer offers an array of activities such as quad biking, hiking and downhill mountain biking with a monsterous bike-park, Whistler at winter comes alive.

The village itself is small, with a population of only 10,000, but in the winter this swells to around 40,000. Whistler's facilities are world-class, and this season a new "Peak2Peak" Gondola that directly links the tops of the two mountains opens on December 12. The skiable area is 8,171 acres, comprising more than 200 runs, and the 38 lifts can handle 65,507 skiers per hour. Not bad, especially considering you can get here from Vancouver in under two hours.

Whilst the resorts world-beating facilities and endless slopes are all well and good, the fact that Whistler has so much to offer, and the hype surrounding the place due to the Olympics, can make time spent there expensive. Fortunately there are many more local alternatives available, some of which can even be reached using Vancouver's public transport system.

Grouse Mountain, which I climbed a couple of times over the summer, is also a ski resort over winter. I remember back in July, tackling the 'Grouse Grind' with my friends Andrew, Dylan and Sabrina, culminating in a snowball fight in the warm sunshine at the top, as we found a big patch of left over snow from the winter. Now, looking up at Grouse from the city, snow is slowly taking over the peaks, and soon enough the resort will be open.

Compared to what Whistler has to offer, Grouse is tiny. The mountain contains only 26 runs, but it's more than enough to keep someone like myself, who hasn't been snowboarding for a couple of years, happy for now. Additionally, Grouse is a fair amount cheaper than Whistler, and with it being only a Seabus and a bus ride away from Vancouver, it's extremely easy and cheap to get to.
Alongside Grouse Mountain, there are the resorts of Cypress, and also Mount Seymour locally, and slightly further afield over the US border, there is Mount Baker. All-in-all it is everything a winter adreneline junkie could wish for.

Having recently moved flats, and having had a fair amount of time off work the wallet isn't currently bursting. Fortunately my new job, working as a receptionist - something that keeps me so busy that I can sit here for an hour and type this, means that I have a regular income again, at least for the forseeable future. With that, I too will soon be strapping myself to a piece of fibre-glass and wood, before throwing myself down a mountain. Let's hope I remember how to stop.

Notes from other places

2008-10-07T19:12:00.000-07:00

I've always felt that it is important to write things down, to note interesting happenings in life, and to generally record your experiences. It's one of those things that doesn't take a lot of effort, but the rewards over time are great.

More than a year ago now myself and (my good friend from Uni) Luke drove around Central Europe for a couple of weeks in my Mum's long-suffering Vauxhall Astra. On most days of our journey we used Luke's laptop to write a short journal of what had occurred; how many miles we'd done, where we were at the time of writing, and what song was on the stereo - if anything. We had both just completed our Journalism degrees at Southampton Solent University, although I will refrain - at this point - from calling us graduates, as our Uni had the backward tendency to do things in an 'alternate' manner, thus we didn't get our results until many other people who completed courses in 2007 had already graduated. Anyway, as a result of completing said course our musings tended to occupy the more flowery-side of the writing-in-a-flowery-manner spectrum - if you know what I mean, and reading our journal back in recent times always causes me a laugh or two.

Certain things that happened over the course of our journey from Portsmouth on England's south coast, to Rauris in the Austrian Alps would probably no longer be with us in memory now, if it wasn't for our blog. Writing with events fresh in your mind always helps with detail, as over time memories fade, stories are obscured, and as a result trying to record things in an accurate manner would be difficult.

Thinking back to the times we had, and being able to read about specific conversations that would otherwise have dulled into nothingness now makes that small effort back then so worth it now. The same goes for photographs. Anyone who knows me will know that I spend far far too long taking photographs, and I also over-use (and mis-use) the term "arrogant" when describing them. However I feel that in this digital-age, where memory cards will hold over 500 multi-million megapixel photos at 2256x1496 resolution, it's not unjustifiable to take a picture of absolutely everything. Photos jog your memory, as do words, and so when you see that shot of the time you passed out in the a car outside a youth hostel in Salzburg, or when you randomly spent a day aimlessly wandering the chaotic streets of Casablanca due to a botched transit flight, it brings a smile.

Mine and Luke's journal isn't online, and so it's only us who actually gets to read it, but at least it exists, so in years to come we can both dig it out and re-live past joys. We also took 592 photos of our experiences, and some video footage too, so the time I jumped into the freezing depths of Lake Königssee in Bavaria, whilst wearing nothing but my boxers will be always there in all its glory.

I also wrote about my experiences in Ghana. The West African nation is a place I decided to go many years ago now. I remember clear as day walking into my Uni housemates room in what would have been January 2006, seeing on the TV the African Cup of Nations being played out in Egypt and thinking "I could go to that". The next one was being hosted by Ghana, in January and February of 2008. At that moment I made a decision, and although didn't do much about it until summer 2007, always had it in the back of my mind that I would go. 2008 came around, and in the preceding months I'd contacted a number of people in Ghana, mainly due to a family friend, who is also my Doctor, Paul, being part of a Christian missionary project over there. He put me in touch with Paul Sefa, a Ghanaian chap who also part of the project, and a great friend of Dr. Paul, who helped me out so much during mine and my friend Katherine's trip over, and he also became a great friend of us both. He served to guide us around his country, was kind enough to let us stay at his house, made sure we got tickets to see some of the games, and was hooked-up enough to ensure we got to meet the Ghanaian national football team in their hotel. He also went to the lengths of picking us up from Kotoka International Airport in Ghana's capital Accra at 5am, after our flights were delayed, leaving us stranded in Morocco for 24 hours. All-in-all our experiences were so special, a huge part of that being down to Paul, and I made sure I kept a diary of what we did every day.

Upon arrival back in the UK I made a conscious effort to write the diary up into article form. It took a few hours - time I could have spent doing hundreds of other things, but reading that back now makes it so worthwhile. It's online now, located at the website I made but never bothered updating, as well as on my Facebook notes, but at least it is there, and so the memories will last.

All-in-all I think keeping a Blog of your experiences is important, especially when doing something like travelling. It's not just for others to read, as in all probability hardly anyone - aside from close friends and family, will read it, but it is great to be able to look back on what you've done and smile. I only wish I'd written about everything now.

Rest, relaxation, relatives and reflection.

2008-09-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

Looking back on my time in Canada so far it is easy to see the stages I, and the friends I've made, have been through.

Arriving on a drab and grey afternoon at Vancouver International Airport, in what seems a lifetime ago now, was the start of the first stage. The feeling I had at the time was of being lost, and having no idea what would happen within the next hour, let alone the next day. Who would I meet? Where would I live? What sort of job would I get? Would I get settled here?

I would not go as far as to say I was scared at the time, but it was a period of living by each hour, living on the edge. I can remember clear as day sitting in my room at UBC soon after arriving and worrying that I had so far only met one person (Helen - at Heathrow Airport!) and would end up hating my Canadian experience.

Fortunately, Stage Two began shortly after - beginning with my move from UBC to the Youth Hostel down at Jericho Beach. This experience was the complete opposite of my first week in Canada. Everywhere I went in the Hostel there were people, all of whom who were keen to make new friends and share experiences. I met so many people there, and made friends from all parts of the globe. For those three weeks life was a whole lot of fun from dawn 'til dusk. Each morning the British Columbian sun would rise over Downtown Vancouver, Jericho Park and the Youth Hostel, we would head down to the beach, play soccer in the park, or sit outside and watch an England-less Euro 2008 play-out with a massive group of travellers.

The highlight of that time, however, was undoubtedly Canada Day - July 1st. Our group of friends had been together for around three weeks at the time, and now many were moving on to new places in the world, and many of us staying, but moving away from the Hostel to rent rooms in houses or flats. Almost everyone I knew from the Hostel was in attendance, and the sun beat down upon the huge outdoor party the Hostel staff had organised. The smell of BBQ food was in the air, the drinks flowed, nations fought hard in the Beer Olympics (with Brazil emerging victorious), and everyone had the time of their lives. We went to, and got massively burned on, the beach, relaxed in the park, and had an impromptu 6-aside soccer tournament, which was won by a team of spirited Irishmen, who beat our own 'Holland' team (comprising only one Dutchman) in the final. The favourites Italy were knocked out in the semi-finals, and the Irish took their chance to overwhelm a Holland team who were a man short for the duration of the match. The day ended with everyone heading to the beach, to watch the Canada Day fireworks taking place just off English Bay, and our time at Jericho was over.

Stage Three began abruptly the following day, with a 6:30am wake up call. It was my first day at my new job, and once I returned that evening, I would be moving to my new place on Granville Street - a 15 minute bike ride from Downtown. It had taken me a couple of weeks to obtain employment in Canada, and I'd got this job - at Business Objects in Yaletown - through Kelly Services, a job agency in the city. I was employed as part of a team of temporary workers, who were there to sort out the mess of data following a merger between two multi-million dollar software companies.

The work at Business Objects was dire, but that was offset by my fellow temps all being a great laugh, and the fact that there was a table football game and roof patio on top of the building. The team mainly consisted of other travellers on work visas, so I made more friends from Australia, England, Scotland and Ireland - as well as the Canadian contingent in the office. We made the most of our time there, and I left after about seven weeks. That was enough time there for me.

Work work work

2008-08-09T13:24:00.001-07:00

Working life is tough. I'm currently sat around on my first day off in two weeks, and I have to say I feel so relieved. I wouldn't really mind if I actually enjoyed my job, but unfortunately the place I work, which previously had been a sanctuary of Facebook, Flickr, Blogging, Teamtalk.com and generally arsing about has turned into a hardcore Excel Spreadsheet-fest. It's tough.

Two weeks ago my alarm went off at 6:30am as normal. I quietly moaned to myself for a couple of minutes, thrashed around for a couple more, then staggered out of bed, showered, made myself some Pesto and cheese sandwiches and cycled to work. Since then it's been non-stop, but cycling, I've discovered, is so much better than taking the bus for a number of reasons.

Firstly, you get a great amount of Exercise.

Second: it's actually quicker to cycle to work, than it is to use public transport. My bike ride to work consists of one long hill down Granville Street, a slow cycle up and across Granville Bridge, then a quick blast around the grid layout of Yaletown - the 'yuppie' district of Downtown Vancouver. Normally somewhere along this route, usually down Granville Hill, I will overtake the number 10 bus - my old mode of transport, and I have to say, in all the time I have worked in this office, once I have got past the bus it has never got by me once again.

Thirdly, it's cheap. Unfortunately my cycling hasn't been quite as cheap as it could have been, as I have to admit that I am on my second bike in a month. Unfortunately my previous bicycle, that I was so pleased with, after spending many hours with Dylan (who had his bike nicked the other day) toiling over to get into a roadworthy state, was stolen from outside my work in broad daylight. I spent about two hours feeling incredibly pissed off about the whole situation, but then came to the conclusion that bikes are cheap, and at least the thief had stolen a good, roadworthy bike, that would not need any work for quite a while.

Undeterred, I logged on to the haven of bargains that is Craigslist.ca, and within 24 hours of having Bike #1 stolen, I had purchased the vastly superior Bike #2. This one comes with (just about working) front suspension, and grip shift gears. Granted, the brakes aren't great, and I've managed to lose one set of gears (the front set, so it's not all bad) but I will sort these issues out eventually, and I will end up with a better bike.

Finally, biking around Downtown is great fun. I love weaving my way down the traffic, fitting into gaps and generally getting places 10 times faster than walking, and at least three times faster than those trying to navigate Downtown in gas-guzzling cars. I love it, and now I realise why Tom, my brother, enjoys cycling so much.

Anyway, with regards to work, I haven't actually had a day off since that Monday a couple of weeks back, and since then the workload has been mounting up thick and fast. Gone are the days of internet surfing, and now all I seem to do is sit around 'Mining Data' to gather random reference numbers, and creating "Super Administrators" for various companies all around the globe. It's a huge software company I work for, and their customers range from the Bank of America, to the United Nations, to the US Air Force. It's soul-destroyingly dull, but it pays fairly well, and it allows me to buy Pesto, arrogant French Brie, and London Fog drinks - so I'm happy.

Speaking of London Fog drinks - I have no idea where they've been all my life, or why I've never heard of them but MY GOD, they are incredible. It all started one fateful day when I was hanging around at Mink -my usual post-work-can't-be-arsed-to-cycle-home place, where my Aussie friend Lynda works. Mink is an extremely classy Chocolate Cafe, residing at the bottom of Hornby Street, in Downtown Vancouver, near the waterfront. It's a lovely location to hang out for a while, and I've got to know the staff pretty well. I've often been offered 'discounted' drinks in my time there, and one such time one of the staff, Jason, offered me a beverage I'd never heard of before. The London Fog, or simply 'Fog' as it's now known by us, is made up of steamed milk, organic Earl Grey tea (try $15 a box, but the teabags are made of silk, literally), a dash of Vanilla Syrup, and the option of Cinnamon on top. I tasted one of these for the first time a couple of weeks ago and ever since I've been hooked. It's got to the point where I make my own, rather less incredible, but still impressive, versions at work, and that has helped me get through the monotony of life at Business Objects.

Don't get me wrong, it's a laugh working here. The other temps I work with are all friendly and we get on well, but the work is mind-numbing, and nothing ever comes along that is in the slightest bit interesting. So, with this in mind, the prospect of overtime would probably be something I wouldn't even consider, right? Wrong, on Thursday all the temps were called into a meeting. Our boss Marnie asked how how we would like triple pay ($40.50/hour before tax) on Monday - a national holiday. We all stated, with generous dollops of understatement, that we'd probably be interested in that. The deal was to do at least four hours on both Saturday and Sunday, at double pay, and we could have our 40 bucks an hour on Monday. Needless to say we all took the offer up, and so on Monday, after personally working 12 hours over the weekend, everyone worked an epic Excel Spreadsheet shift of 12 gut-wrenching hours. It had to rank as one of the worst days of my life, sitting alongside writing-off my mothers beloved Fiat Punto, and failing my driving test, but the paycheque, which will arrive next week, should be spectacular.

Aside from that I've managed to do a lot of cheap activities. The other week Dylan, Andrew, Sabrina and myself climbed Grouse Mountain. Grouse is located behind North Vancouver, and we had planned to do it one weekend. The climb, known as the Grouse Grind, was tough, and after about 45 minutes we thought we were getting on pretty well. That was until we realised we weren't even half-way up. The trail is made up of an endless chain of steps made out of rock, branches and soil, which you conquer, one after another, in an fashion which seems like it will never end. Fortunately we all managed it, and had the splendor of an awe-inspiring view of Vancouver, the Burrard Inlet, and the coast of Vancouver Island in the distance. It took us an hour and-a-half, but it was totally worth it, especially for the Gondola ride back down.

Also in Vancouver there has recently been a fireworks competition. The basic idea is a few countries get together and try and out-do each other with as many different explosives as possible on Wednesday and Saturday nights. The views available from all over Downtown are spectacular, and I particularly enjoyed being able to get a great view of the city by moonlight, thus taking far far too many long-exposure shots with my Nikon.

All-in-all it's been a tough few weeks, but the pay will be worth it. I finish at my work in a week and-a-half, to take some well-earned time off. My trip to Canada is supposed to be a Working Holiday, and so I need to ensure I keep that in mind, rather than spending every waking moment in the workplace. I might not necessarily work 100% of the time when I'm there, but being here, rather than being outside enjoying the city and the surrounding area is important.

Making friends and Eco-travel

2008-07-14T14:07:00.000-07:00

When I first decided to move to Vancouver many months ago now I was quite understandably excited. A new city, in a new country, on a new continent. A whole clean slate and a whole new adventure.

When I told my friends, work-mates, and any other random people I spoke to that I was going I usually got one of two responses. The first generally went along the lines of "Sounds good, you'll have a great time there." Perfectly normal response really.

The second, however, I found quite amusing.

The conversation would usually go:
Person (with puzzled expression): Have you been to Canada before?
Ben: No never.
Person: So you have family there?
Ben: Nope.
Person: Friends?
Ben: None.
Person: Right. (looking even more puzzled) You're mental.

Most of the time the conversation would end there, or the subject would be changed, but for some reason the people I would have this conversation with were unable to fathom why I'd want to leave dear old England for a new country I'd never even been before and had no links with. For me, I didn't really see the difference between going to Vancouver, or moving away from home to University. It's the same principle - a new setting, a whole group of new people to meet, and a time of complete unknown, with the opportunity to do so much, or so little.

I guess most people would be pretty scared of moving so far away. When at University in England you are never really too far away from home. England is a tiny country, and I've been told that you can fit our Kingdom inside British Columbia four times.

Additionally, when going to University you usually start off in some form of Halls of Residence. Easy enough to meet people then - everyone else is in the same boat, and everyone else is crapping themselves over the fact that they may not meet people, may be lonely, and have a wasted experience. I found the Jericho Beach Hostel to be an experience similar to that. Most people were alone, or in small groups, and everybody was up for talking and making new friends. It was easy, really.

My friendship group here in Vancouver is made up of an interesting bunch of people. Firstly there is Dylan - my weirdly flexible, massive-handed, Sri Lankan/English friend from Wisbech in Cambridgeshire. Next up: Lynda and Andrew - a couple of friendly Aussies who've been travelling the world for a fair amount of time themselves, but have now settled in Vancouver for six months at least. There's Robert, my Dutch mate who has been in Vancouver for almost a month - but has just today left for Tokyo, to continue his round the world expeditions. We've got some Irish friends too - Sabrina, Seun - who is Irish but was born in Nigeria, and their other Irish housemate Emma. There's my flight buddy, Helen, who has recently got her own place to live sorted, and has managed to bag a pretty good job at Westjet in Canada Place. As well as these there are others who have come and gone from the Hostel, a group of locals who Robert and I have played soccer (sorry, I mean football) with every weekend, and my work mates - who do the same supposedly-working-but-actually-sitting-on-facebook job as myself.

I did find the first week in Canada pretty difficult. Looking back on things, staying at UBC was a mistake. The place was nice but there was no opportunity to meet any people - and it cost far too much. Moving to the Hostel was a great move, as all my new friends have been from there, and everyone has been brilliant. We've spent time wandering around Downtown, sitting in Stanley Park or on Jericho Beach, or met up at Lynda's workplace - Mink Chocolate Cafe near Canada Place - to eat and drink unhealthily.

The other day Dylan got himself a mountain bike. He discovered "Our Community Bikes" on Main St in Vancouver - a shop whose organisers recycle bikes that have been damaged, disregarded or are in various states of disrepair. Dylan paid $80 for a bike that looked brand new, aside from it lacking a saddle, and so the other day he came with me to get one of my own. Two hours of toil later and I had a "Nishiki" mountain bike of my own. It cost slightly more, as we had to change wheel-bearings, gear shifters, grease the whole thing up, and stop the saddle from trying to fling me off every time I changed speed, but I'm happy. I'm sure Tom, my brother, would be proud that I've embraced an eco-friendly form of travel. Whilst I nail it around Downtown Vancouver, dodging buses, pedestrians, cars, and going the wrong way down one-way streets, he is planning the next stint of his Ride Earth trip - a cycle ride around the globe.

Now that cheap transport has been sorted out I never need to use the bus again. Granted, I will probably get public transport if I venture out of the city any time soon, but whilst I stay I will be seen on my bike. It's great exercise too.

Next on the agenda is to buy a laptop, pay rent, and find more places to visit. It's going to be fun.

Getting Settled

2008-07-03T16:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a couple of weeks since I last posted anything about my exploits on the other side of the pond, but not being in any particular rush to do anything strenuous today I decided to write about what I've been to up to in the last two weeks.

In the previous edition of this blog I was unemployed, homeless but generally having a good time. Fortunately, the latter part of this hasn't changed, but the other two have.

Since moving from UBC to the Hostel at Jericho Beach my experiences in Canada have changed a lot. UBC was a nice place to stay, but I really had to get out of there. On a positive note I had my own room, washroom shared with only a couple of people, and it was directly next to the bus. It was also an astronomical $354 dollars for a weeks stay, and was dull. Very dull. I barely met anyone whilst staying there, so when my mate Dylan mentioned that the Hostel was located right on the beach, had good links into Downtown, and was only $20/night I was sold. After setting fire to my debit card to pay for my stay at UBC, packing, and getting the hell out of there, Dylan helped me move my stuff to Jericho Beach, and that's where I stayed for the past couple of weeks.

Since then the time has flown by. I've met people from all over the world. Places like Ireland, Australia, Switzerland, Canada, Italy, The Netherlands, Germany, Mexico, Bolivia, China, Taiwan. Everyone is friendly and is interested in what you are doing in Canada, where you've been before, what you want to do next. Like myself, many people came alone, some are passing through on heroic voyages around the continent by car/van/bicycle, many are here for a year or two to work, and many are just on an extended break over the summer from University or College.

The Hostel, which was formally an Army Barracks, is cheap and cheerful, but it shows. The washrooms leave a lot to be desired, and you only get a small locker to store your stuff in, but it's a great laugh. You meet new people every day, and during the Euro 2008 tournament the Germans who ran the cafeteria set up the television outside with a gazebo, sofa, and fridge stocked with alcohol. The staff are friendly and chatty, there's a huge kitchen for food preparation, and the aformentioned Jericho Beach is only a couple of minutes walk away. Canada Day happened on Tuesday, and the Hostel management organised a big bbq/chill out/beach party-type thing for the day, and we watched the Fireworks over Downtown Vancouver in the evening from the beach.

Shortly after moving to the Hostel my search for employment finally bore fruit. After a gruelling two hour inteview/test session with Kelly Services, an employment agency, I was finally offered a job. As of Monday I have been working on 'Data Entry' for a software company in Downtown Vancouver. Thus far I have sat on a very comfortable chair, moved various reference numbers around various different screens, and consumed various packets of Cuppa Soup Noodles whilst sitting on various pages on the internet. I've also marvelled over, on many occasions, the top floor of the building. In England, an office kitchen - in my experience at least - includes a couple of cupboards, a kettle, and perhaps some slightly mouldy cheese. Try here: A ping pong table, every type of free coffee, tea, hot chocolate you'd ever want, a football table, a big-screen TV with three games consoles, subsidised snack machines (25p for a Twix anyone?), sofas, and an outdoor roof patio with a barbeque. I'm sure I could've done worse.

I start work at 8am - something that I've been finding fairly difficult, after five weeks of getting up whenever I feel I can be arsed, but the pay isn't bad, and the office is relatively relaxed. There has been a lot of training happening this week, so it's been a case of information overload at times, but there is a load of new temps aside from myself, so everyone helps each other out. All in all it will at least allow me to pay the rent at my new place!

Yes, it's true - I have a house. Well, a room, actually, in a shared house. It's not too expensive, and I'm living with a couple of guys from Quebec, a chap from Toronto I've never met as he's always working, and a Tunisian guy called Slim (who wasn't very), who disappeared the other day. The building is huge and upstairs there's a house where the couple who own the place live. My landlord, Frank, is from Hungary and his wife Fadia is Lebanese. They're also incredibly friendly and gave me a lift to do a food shop the day I moved in. Overall I'm pretty pleased, as my room is large, is fully furnished, has a double bed and plenty of storage space, and I can get a bus to Downtown in around 15 minutes.

At the moment I'm living on a bit of a limited budget, but soon enough I'll get paid and be able to visit places on weekends, and save up for when people come over to visit. It's nice to be unpacked now, having been living out of a bag for the best part of a month, and I'm feeling a lot more settled. I've made lots and lots of friends at the Hostel, and a fair few of them are here for a year. After a tough start things are looking up.

One Week In: Unemployed, Homeless, but still good

2008-06-18T15:24:00.000-07:00

When I first touched down in Vancouver, in what seems like a lot more than a week ago now, I was a little apprehensive. This was probably understandable: I was moving to a country on the other side of the world, not having any family out there, and knowing no-one. All I had was a couple of bags of clothes, a weeks accommodation at the University of British Columbia Halls of Residence (UBC) and some money in my bank account.

Well, a week has passed since I touched in to be greeted by the distinctly British weather of the city that day, and fortunately I am still around.

Living at UBC for a week turned out to be pretty comfortable, if a little out of the way. Downtown Vancouver, where I have been doing all of my job and house hunting research, is absolutely miles away. Fortunately there is a bus terminal right outside my halls, so getting into town is a quick 25 minute ride down 4th Avenue, and left across Burrard Bridge into the sea of mirror-windowed skyscrapers that makes up Downtown Vancouver.

What a place to spend your time though. Everywhere you look, there is 50-100 story, building. It's a far cry from what I saw in Accra, Ghana back in February, but both cities have their own separate personalities and attractions. Accra was simply chaotic. The roads were a free-for-all. If there was a space to be filled on the road, someone would fill it. There were open sewers which stank, people selling all manner of goods in the middle of traffic jams, the place just alive with activity.

Vancouver, on the other hand, is totally the opposite. The drivers all stick religiously to the highway code. Never have I seen drivers yield so much to pedestrians. If you even think about crossing the street, vehicles will instantly stop and let you go, whether you are at a proper crosswalk or not. Everyone drives around at a leisurely pace, rather than the insanity of African driving (not that I didn't find car rides in Ghana entertaining), the people are obviously far more affluent, and it is a great cosmopolitan atmosphere. They say that Vancouver has the second biggest Chinatown in North America, after San Francisco, and it certainly seems that way. Asian people probably match white people in numbers.

The multicultural atmosphere here stems to the food also. There is such a variety of food you can eat. Chinese, Thai, Indian, Malaysian, Greek. Whatever you want, it's here. There are endless food courts underneith the various shopping centres, meaning that if you want Mexican and your friend wants some Sushi then it's no problem, and you can still sit together. Additionally, the extremely favourable exchange rates means that to English people the food, and everything else, is ridiculously cheap also. Try the equivalent of about three quid for a main course and a drink in most places. Shop around and you get things even cheaper.

As well as Downtown, there are so many other areas in Vancouver. You are never bored. Stanley Park, for instance, is only five minutes away from Downtown, but it is quiet, serene and picturesque. I wandered around there on my own the other day, watched the cruise ships pass under the Lions Gate Bridge to leave the city for the Pacific, relaxed, and spent about half an hour chatting to Olga and Graham, a retired Australian couple who started travelling in 1963, and basically never stopped. They now live in Texas, and before I asked where they were from I had no idea, as their accents were a mix of Canadian, Deep Southern Drawl, Australian and South African. Quite a mix!

I've met many other people doing similar things to me. To name a few: At my orientation I met Jonny, Ronny and Badge (seriously) - a group of Irish lads here for the summer, Dylan - an English guy with Sri Lankan roots, Helen - my flight buddy, and David, who quit his job as an Electrician nine years ago to go travelling, and has never gone back. He pays for it by renting his house out. A genius plan.

Job hunting is progressing slowly, too. On Wednesday 18th I had an interview at an agency on Burrard St in the centre of Vancouver. With any luck I will get some Administrative/Office work next week. I'm sure the experience I gained during my time at Kettering Care Management will help no end, although I'm not sure whether or not the places will be as fun!

I'm still currently looking for a home, and at the moment am still living out of a bag, and yesterday I moved to Jericho Beach Youth Hostel. It's a lot busier than UBC, and I've spoken to a lot of interesting people in the short time I've been there. This morning I got chatting to Ryan, a Californian guy who has been motorcyling around Vancouver Island, and watched Germany beat Portugal in Euro 2008 with a group of Germans, sat outside in the rain, with a monsterous television under a canopy. There are people from all over the place staying there, and it's cheap, at $20/night. A bit more affordable than UBC.

So that's about it for now. I'm alive, just about got enough money to live on (and when my tax rebate comes through I'll be a lot happier), and with any luck I'll have a job sorted soon. After that, I just need a place to live. Hopefully that will all fall into place too.

Early mornings, lost baggage and foot-long Burritos

2008-06-11T11:02:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm here. It's been a long time since I decided to up sticks and bugger off to the other side of the world, but after a nine hour plane ride I have arrived in Vancouver.

It wasn't all plane sailing though. A couple of weeks ago I found out that my flight would be departing from the dreaded Terminal Five at Heathrow. Joy, I thought, my baggage will end up in Beijing. I set about calling my insurance company to arrange some extra baggage cover. Unfortunately, after getting the reply, in no uncertain terms, that Flexi Cover do not cover T5, I had to think of another solution. Fortunately my Mum happened across 'Trace Me' baggage tags, Which - surprisingly enough - trace your bags wherever they are in the world. With one of those purchased I still hoped my bags wouldn't be making a detour to the 2008 Olympics, but at least I had some form of security incase the unthinkable happened.

Yesterday morning was an early one. My folks drove me down to Heathrow, and I'd arranged to meet up with Helen - my flight buddy, and another person who had also decided to randomly move to a country in which she had no contacts or particular reason to go. After checking in together, and the inevitable tearful goodbyes from our respective mothers, we set off to Canada.

The flight was pretty uneventful. Having been used to cattle-class budgetary in the past, I was expecting to my treated to an array of food that resembled vomit, but infact the non-stop conveyer belt of nurishment that came our way was a joy. I watched the whole of Jumper (pretty entertaining film), and watched Larry David try to track down the mysterious masterbater in his house in Curb Your Enthusiasm. Nine-and-a-half hours later we landed in what was a very overcast, and quite chilly, Vancouver airport.

After going through immigration and getting my working visa validated without too much bother we went to baggage reclaim. That was where the problem started. My bags arrived straight away. Unfortunately for my flight buddy Helen, hers didn't. After a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, in which Helen remained remarkably calm - whilst I would probably have nutted someone and been thrown out of the country - we came to the conclusion that Helen's bags were still somewhere in England and would arrive tomorrow. Of course, a years supply of belongings isn't really what you want to lose, so BA gave her $60 of compensation. Great.

Next was a taxi ride to the University of British Columbia Halls of Residence, where we had both booked a weeks accommodation. The place is pretty nice, although the view out of my window isn't exactly what I was hoping for, but it'll do. We both went to grab some food - I had the worlds largest chicken Burritto, whilst Helen had a Tamale - which as far as I knew was a small town in Northern Ghana. After getting back to my room I tried to stay awake as long as possible, to avoid jetlag, but failed miserably, falling asleep at about 7pm Canadian time, and waking up at 1am with my book still in my hand. Arse.

Today has been interesting so far. Breakfast consisted of cereal eaten out yesterdays smoothie cup, and after meeting Helen we got the bus into Downtown/Central Vancouver.

Tomorrow is the Orientation meeting with the company who sorted my visa, so after that I'll be on my own. The adventure starts here.

The start of something new

2008-05-20T08:47:00.001-07:00

When abandoning your home for parts unknown there seems to be a check list to fulfill. Generally, stuffed somewhere between storing/selling/burning your worldly belongings, and saying goodbye to friends and family, there's the creation of a Blog. So, here's one more - Ben in B.C.

It's three weeks exactly until I make the journey down the M1 from my sleepy Northamptonshire village to the chaotic intercontinental travel depot that is Heathrow airport, board one of Boeings finest, and spend nine-and-a-half hours trying to avoid deep-vein thrombosis, whilst watching endless films, and eating vacuum-packed salmon.

My destination is Vancouver, Canada, and my plan, like so many other graduates who have been confronted with 'real-life', is to avoid getting a career for as long as possible by travelling. I've done a bit already, driving around central Europe, visiting a friend from Uni in Tallinn, Estonia, and spent a little time in Antibes, all in summer/autumn 2007.

My most recent bout of travelling was to somewhere I've wanted to visit for quite a while - Ghana, West Africa. I went in February this year, for 15 days, and it was one of the most fulfilling, fascinating experiences of my life. There were a few dramas in places, but the trip was immensely enjoyable, and I also watched some of the 2008 African Cup of Nations matches live. I will definitely return in the future. You can read about it here.

However, I decided rather than go on many short trips to various places I needed to live abroad instead. It was then that I was informed of BUNAC - a company who help individuals arrange working visas, to allow foreign nationals to live and work in other countries (outside the EU).

I considered New York, and Cape Town, and then came across the option of Canada. After looking at what the city of Vancouver had to offer specifically I was sold - The place just has so much. Situated right on the Pacific Coast, within touching distance of the United States, and backed on to the Rocky Mountains. What more do you want?

Well nothing, hopefully. But I will find out for myself on June 10.

Also, I generally spend far too long taking photos, so I'm going to upload them to my Flickr account incase people want a look.