Time flies when you're having fun

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

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

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.

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

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.