Chile: Rain and Writing on Chiloe

Onwards with my attempt to bring the blog back up to date!

Following my five days of laziness in Santiago and a somewhat soggy arrival in Ancud, here's how my first week on the beautiful island of Chiloe went.

A fellow WriMo!

My first full day in Ancud began like the previous day. Rain. Just a little bit soggy... Fortunately, it brightened up around lunchtime, so I took a stroll into the town and had a poke around the craft market where I was amazed that no one tried to get me to buy anything. I was even more impressed that I didn't buy anything, although that was largely due to practical reasons - there were some really beautiful ponchos and cardigans, but I just don't have enough room in my bag. Ugh.

On my way back to the hostel I stopped in at the little regional museum. To my utter glee, it was free. Seems that Chile is a bit bigger on the free museums than anywhere else I've been so far.

The museum is only small but has a really good selection from the history of settlement on Chiloe, plus this ship, which is the schooner Ancud.

It carried Chilotes down to Patagonia to establish the first settlements down there. That's pretty cool. The museum also has this blue whale skeleton, because skeletons...

Everything is in Spanish only, but I impressed myself by getting the gist of most of it. I've also cheated and downloaded the Spanish dictionary into my Google Translate, so when I got stuck that was super helpful.

After a nice lunch and some more writing at the hostel, I set off again, this time with Lizzie and Heather, a couple of girls from the hostel. First stop, the little harbour.

Then a short walk up the hill to Fuerte San Antonio. To be fair, it's not much of a fort - more of a gun emplacement. There didn't seem to be any info boards, so I can't tell you much about it. There's a low wall and some cannon, hence why it strikes me as a gun emplacement only.

There's some gorgeous views out over the bay though, especially since the weather had cleared up a lot since the morning.

From there, we meandered through the streets of Ancud and on up a dirt road to a view point. I'm not sure it's an official view point. There's masts on top. But hey, the view was pretty good.

And then on back to the hostel, where we nearly but not quite avoided the incoming rain. Wine was drunk and Lizzie and I got talking about NaNoWrimo. I thought it was pretty cool to bump into another WriMo like that. Heather was just bemused by the idea of writing 50,000 words in a month...

Bus Trippers Galore!

The following morning, determined to get some fresh air and not spend all day writing like I really wanted to, I headed back up to Fuerte San Antonio. It had been pretty quiet when we went up the previous day and I figured the views would be nice inspiration material.

Of course, it was Sunday and the place was heaving with bus trippers. For some reason, I'd decided to try my hand at sketching the bay and the number of people trying to peer at my notebook was most disconcerting.

I'm not an artist, but I was pretty pleased with my sketch. I've always preferred landscapes and considering I haven't drawn properly since... god knows. Uni, maybe?

Anyways, with my peace and quiet ruined by the noisy, nosy bus trippers, I returned to the hostel and gave in to the urge to write instead. Now there's a creative outlet I'm actually sort of OK with. I suspect I lost my afternoon creating basic language rules for fictional cultures...

LURGIES

On Monday morning, the lurgies I'd been fighting since I landed in Santiago, probably brought on by the recycled air on the plane, struck with full force. Headache, streaming nose, sore throat. Yep. Just what I needed the day before NaNoWriMo kicked off.

I downed a couple of paracetamol to deal with the aches and decided to brave the rain in the hope that the fresh air would make me feel better. It also gave me an excuse to wear my fancy alpaca gloves from Peru.

Unfortunately, while I normally quite like walking in the rain, lurgies combined with torrential downpour and wind conspired to make me feel even worse. I retreated to the hostel, downed a couple of mugs of tea, did a quick run to the supermarket for tissues and extra tea bags and then spent the afternoon getting my brain prepped for NaNoWriMo.

And then 9pm came around.

See, NaNoWriMo kicks off at midnight, November 1st. But I'm going to be switching time zones at least once if not more this month. So instead of confusing my brain I decided to just stick with my usual UK time and start at midnight by that clock. Which meant 9pm Chile time, much to the confusion of a couple of the guys at the hostel who'd insisted on knowing what I was doing typing so many words.

I think I managed 3,000 words before crawling, snuffling, into bed. Not bad considering the mushiness in my head.

WRITE ALL THE WORDS

The contents of my journal for today run as follows:

• 20k day
• that is all
• dead

Which is pretty much true. I'd set myself the challenge of writing 20,000 words on the first day of NaNoWriMo. Just a personal challenge - an attempt to pass my personal best of 15,000 words in a day. In between a fight with my bluetooth keyboard (which changed settings and wouldn't let me use the A key for half an hour), lurgies and far too much tea I achieved that goal.

It killed my brain. To my complete surprise, when I read back through those 20,000+ words, most of it was of a decent standard, not the garbage I'd thought I was writing. Well done, me.

I think it freaked a couple of my hostel-mates out though. Sorry, guys. I type fairly quick and my brain, when it's on a roll, works pretty fast too. Also, I just spent October doing ALL the planning.

Yep. NaNoWriMo ate my soul.

Words, rain, words, bus, words, sleep

After the madness of that 20k day, I'd rather expected to take it easy on the Tuesday. Instead, Chiloe continued with its spate of bad weather, so I didn't feel too guilty about doing some more writing.

I also had to make a run to the bus station first thing in the morning to sort out a bus to my next destination further south on the island. Congratulations to my word-addled brain for conducting the entire transaction in Spanish despite the strange (and persistent) urge to use German when I get stuck.

With nearly a whole day to waste before my bus, I poured out another 8,000 words of mostly coherent novel while outside it rained. And rained. And rained some more. Any thoughts of taking a break and going for a walk were rained off.

And then I got on a bus. It rained. And then it stopped, which was nice because I had to wander up and down a street in Dalcahue for a good ten minutes before I found the sign for my hostel. The very friendly owner spoke no English and my brain was so mushy by that point that I really struggled to grasp everything she told me.

Fortunately, while the common area was heaving, I had the dorm to myself, so I jammed out another 2,000 words, ate some chocolate biscuits and passed out for the night.

It's on stilts...

Determined to take a break from writing and revive my poor, overworked brain, I went for a stroll to the bus office the next morning, intending to head to Castro as soon as possible so I could have a wander around the town and get away from my keyboard.

The ticket lady told me I'd be better off getting one of the public busses - they were 100 pesos more expensive (an entire... 15p?), but they ran every 15 minutes or so instead of the sole daily bus my by then usual bus company ran.

So I toddled back to the hostel, thinking I'd pick up my bag and go. And hit a snag in the form of the keys not working. I didn't understand this. The owner had given me the keys that morning and told me she'd be back at 12. So I tried the keys. Both of them. Neither of them worked. Believe me, I tried them repeatedly.

Nothing in Dalcahue seemed to be open despite it being nearly 11am, so I sat on the step like a ninny waiting for someone to arrive and let me in. Luckily for me, the cleaning lady turned up around 11am and was able to let me in. She seemed rather amused to find me on the step and more so when I tried to explain in minimal Spanish that the key wouldn't work.

I had to wait for the owner to get back anyway, because I hadn't paid, so I managed a bit more writing while I waited. Once paid, I grabbed my bags and wandered off in search of the bus.

Up to this point, I hadn't used any public transport in Chile. Everywhere I went in Santiago had been within walking distance, as had everything in Ancud. Still, the little buses looked to be fairly well maintained and for 800 pesos (about £1), one would take me 20 minutes or so down the road to Castro.

So I piled into the tiny bus, rucksack balanced on my knees. The driver was surprisingly safe, which was lovely, although I did wonder whether the presence of one of Chile's carabineros might have had something to do with it - Chile's police are supposedly the most trustworthy in South America.

I clambered off the bus again in Castro town centre and began the 20 minute trek to my hostel. I was not prepared for the massive hill, although I suppose I should be glad I only had to go down it.

It rained. A lot.

Bag dumped in my room, I set about looking for a new writing space. I found a lovely one in the common area, in the bit of the hostel that sat on stilts over the estuary.

I'd just got everything set up - tablet, keyboard, cuppa, biscuits, y'know, all the important things - when I realised all the plug sockets were on the other side of the narrow room. Ah.

So I rearranged the room a bit... Just a bit. Just... shuffled the table across slightly. Just far enough so that I could run the power cord from my tablet to the socket. I mean, I could hardly have my tablet die in the middle of an important scene, could I?

Yup. NaNoWriMo. Taking over my life again. Which is why I'd written a grand total of 40,000 words by the end of day 3. Have I mentioned that the goal is to write 50,000 words over the month? Oops.

GREEN BAR!

My first week on Chiloe ended much as it had begun. With rain. An awful lot of rain. I wasn't even going to attempt to go out in it - it was coming in sideways past the windows in the hostel.

So I wrote instead.

And then the rain eased off for half an hour, so I went and restocked my groceries. Oh, and I took a photo of Castro's very funky yellow and purple church.

Very funky. Although thinking about it... I think that photo might actually be from another day... y'know, given the blue sky... my bad.

And then the rain returned, so I wrote some more.

And a bit more.

And at 7:30pm, as attested by a rather overexcited post on Facebook, I passed 50,000 words and my tracker on the NaNoWriMo website turned green. Yes, I am a sad, sad person, but I was very pleased that I'd managed to write 50,000 words of my current fantasy novel in 4 days. So there.

This may also have completely fried my brain, so after a cuppa I had an early night, like the old lady I am at heart.

Hopefully, week 3 of my Chilean adventure won't be quite so consumed by NaNoWriMo. A few more days on Chiloe and then I'm heading down to Patagonia and the city of Punta Arenas.

MUST NOT WRITE MORE WORDS

Canada: Far over the [Misty] Mountains cold...

Wow. This was my final week of solo travel in Canada. By the time this is posted, I'll have retrieved my mum and sister from the airport for a 2 week road trip through the Rockies.

Anyway, that's for next week. Let's have a look at what I've been doing this week, shall we?

Tiny winged demons

While I did technically have a full day in Edmonton the day I arrived, I wasted that being tired and lethargic. So Saturday, my first non-knackered day in the city, I decided to go for a wander down to the river I'd seen on the way to the hostel.

This is the North Saskatchewan River. It's... quite big. On the southern side, where I was staying, there's a whole series of parks along the bank with plenty of trails, so I took a nice two hour stroll through there. Some really gorgeous views.

The only slight drawback of wandering through woods near a big river was the inevitable attack by tiny winged demons. Usually known as gnats/midges/mozzies. I don't know which ones they were. The important thing is I hadn't even thought about putting on insect repellent and as a result had grown an extra elbow by the following morning, alongside an assortment of other bite-induced lumps. Yay.

The hostel had advertised the evening as "Wine and Cheese Night". So I figured I'd filch myself some free cheese and maybe a glass of wine. There was no cheese left when I popped in about 10 minutes after the advertised start. There was wine.

My Slovenian roommate pulled a face and said it tasted more like sangria and I'm inclined to agree. Not complaining - first alcohol since I left the UK and free to boot. It went all right with my linguine.

Attack of the muse

The annoying gnat bites may go some way towards explaining why I was rather less inclined to go exploring on Sunday. Well, that and the fact that my writing muse suddenly decided to wake up again after taking a week off after Camp NaNoWriMo. 

Instead of exploring I ended up writing several thousand words about the languages in the fictional universe I'm working in at the moment.

Yeah. And then when I did finally decide to go and have a look around Strathcona, the lovely old area around the hostel, I ended up in a second hand bookshop and had to escort myself back to the hostel before I spent ALL THE MONEY. I did get a Terry Pratchett book out of it though...

And then I wrote some more.

Write All The Words

Yeah, so Monday ended up being much the same as Sunday with the added bonus of possibly solving my Seattle-West Yellowstone transport problem. Hurrah.

I think I wrote about 5000 words. This is a lot of words. Most of them were rubbish, but at least my brain is back in writing mode. I like my brain in writing mode. It's more fun.

I managed another short exploratory foray into Strathcona, where I discovered that some of the pedestrian crossings are rainbows.

My brain made some sort of Mario Kart Rainbow Road reference. It wasn't all that funny, because my brain is not good at making the funnies.

Reasoning that I'd want an early night because of the horrible 7:37am train the next day, I turned in far earlier than usual, failed to get to sleep until after midnight because my brain is a bitch and then was rudely awoken at 4am by the return of...

The Mother of All Storms

For those who missed out on the New Zealand expedition madness, the Mother of All Storms, also known simply as The Storm, was a massive thunderstorm which followed us around the South Island for a few days with scary ass lightning and the loudest thunder I've ever heard. I'm sure the same storm has started following me across Canada, starting in Ottawa (or possibly even Montreal), getting worse in Winnipeg and now Edmonton...

Well, I'm pretty sure lightning struck the street outside the hostel. The gap between the flash of lightning and the thunder going BOOM (seriously, BOOM, not rumble rumble. BOOM) was pretty much non-existent. So I didn't really get much sleep. Fun times.

I hate that storm.

At least that meant I was awake in plenty of time to get my taxi back to the station. The train arrived nearly on time and then I was off on my way to Vancouver, via the Rockies. A bit of a damp morning, but then we hit the mountains and it was beautiful.

I couldn't resist putting the Lord of the Rings soundtracks on as the scenery slid past the windows. I can't wait until I get to explore the mountains in the next couple of weeks.

Only stop of the day was at the tourist hub of Jasper, which is a pretty little place. The train got cleaned out there, so I had an hour to wander round and find an awesome bakery where I found myself some cakey goodness. I would have taken a photo of it, but I was seriously craving sweetness, so I ate it before I had a chance. It was a Nanaimo Square and most scrumptious.

Also in Jasper, I noted that they'd added a third locomotive to the front of the train. Given that there were already two up there to get us to Jasper, I figured this meant we'd be doing quite a lot of climbing and descending on our way to Vancouver.

Unfortunately, I turned round from geeking about the locos to find The Storm bearing down on us again.

About 10 minutes after I took that photo, while we were all milling about waiting to get on the train, The Storm arrived. Rarely have I seen such big raindrops. The crew weren't quite ready to let us board, but with the rain coming down hard, they decided not to wait and there was a bit of a free for all. Suffice to say, by the time I got onto the train, I was soaked.

And then, on top of being sodden, I had to move because some pathetic couple just couldn't bear to sit separately for a few hours. I would probably not have been so pissed off about this if I hadn't been a) soaked and b) operating on about 4 hours sleep. I wouldn't have minded sharing the two seater I'd claimed on boarding at Edmonton, but being made to move rankled.

So I migrated to the cafe car instead, along with a whole bunch of other people who'd had to move to accommodate groups and pairs. We ended up having an impromptu music session courtesy of Catarina from Australia and John from Canada, who kept us entertained with a whole assortment of songs for a good two or three hours.

In the meantime, some wonderful things were going past the windows, but courtesy of the lights reflecting in the windows, I don't have many good photos. This is one of the better ones.

I hung around in the cafe car until about 10pm, staying awake through the consumption of large cups of tea and the residual effects of my sugar-rich deliciousness from Jasper. Which meant I got to see the moon looking pretty over the mountains, although my photo does not do it justice.

And then time for sleep. Well. It should have been time for sleep. You try sleeping next to a both quite tall and rather broad gentleman (lovely guy, but oh my god, the man-spreading) and across from a guy who snored all night. You know how most peoeple, when they snore, do so for a little while and then sort of snort a bit and stop? Yeah. This guy didn't. He just snored. All. Fucking. Night. Man-spreading dude I could deal with because I'm little and the seats are quite big. Snoring man, not so much. I was very close to clubbing him over the head with a walking boot.

Sleep? What sleep?

Suffice to say, I was not in the best of moods when I woke up from another small doze at 6am. I retreated once again to the cafe car, downed another cup of tea and tried to think happy thoughts. This is remarkably hard when you've had about 8 hours sleep in the last 48.

Fortunately, the scenery was still busy being pretty. Reminded me quite a bit of Canterbury in New Zealand - probably to do with the big plain surrounded by mountains.

And then into Vancouver. Finally. This means I've near enough gone from one coast of Canada to the other, if we ignore the fact that I didn't get to Newfoundland. I am rather pleased about this.

Unfortunately, my lack of sleep may have triggered the weird anxiety I get about crowds, which meant waiting to pick up my bag at the station was hell for the 5 minutes I managed before running away to a quieter waiting area for a bit. And I'd been doing so well with crowds so far. How annoying.

On the other hand, the hostel I'm staying at had provided excellent directions and the public transport system in Vancouver is (at that time at least) both efficient and quiet. No huge crowds waiting to freak me out. Hurrah.

I spent the rest of the day first exploring a bit of Jericho Park, which the hostel sits in...

And then sleeping. Because, oh my god, I needed it. And then I read my new Terry Pratchett book (the Discworld Companion. Very good for a reference book) and then I slept some more.

Hurrah.

I'm sure there's a park around here somewhere...

Having had so much sleep the day before, Thursday was a rather more pleasant experience. First, I had a lovely (unhealthy) breakfast at the little cafe attached to the hostel.

It was basically a Full English, with a scone (called a biscuit for some reason...) instead of toast. And it was wonderful. However, I probably needed to do something about burning off all those calories, so I decided to go in search of the Pacific Spirit Regional Park, which Google reliably informed me was a mere half hour walk away.

So I toddled off up the hill, through the residential areas. And kept going. And kept going some more. And I think I found the park. Only, I couldn't find a way in (possibly just being my unobservant self) and I'd rather underestimated how warm it was. It had felt quite mild when I left the hostel, but by the time I got up to where the park was supposed to be, wearing jeans was turning out to be a bad move.

So I gave up and settled for coming back to the hostel and getting my laundry done. Thrilling.

No worries. I made up for my complete lack of activity by going down to the beach at sunset and enjoying the view. Definitely worth it, although my photos don't really do it justice. This is the view down the bay out towards the ocean.

And this is the Vancouver skyline, which looked awesome on the little screen on my camera, but sadly is rather less in focus when blown up.

And finally, the little cafe/restaurant on the waterfront.

I haven't seen nearly enough sunsets yet. I need more sunsets in my life.

Delayed...

As mentioned at the top, at the time this is posted, I should be retrieving my mum and sister from the airport. At the time of writing, the flight's delayed by nearly an hour. Which might mean me locating a cafe at the airport and drinking copious amounts of tea. We'll see.

In the next week, I'll be going on a motorhome road trip with Mum and Amy, from Vancouver up into the Rockies. Back into the [Misty] Mountains cold...

Canada: Am I there yet?

I'm well over halfway through my Canadian adventure now. In fact, I now only have 3 weeks left here before I depart for Alaska. Anyway, the updates continue, so here's what's been going on this week.

Why are we reversing?

I spent much of Saturday being lazy, which was delightful - although I'd forgotten about how much time I lose hopping through links on Wikipedia when I have nothing better to do... Finally, around 6pm I left the fairly quiet city of Hamilton and hopped back on a bus to Toronto. Not because I was planning on staying in Toronto but because I had to get on a train.

Ah yes, the train. The evening's joys began with the guy in front of me at the ticket counter/check in desk, who completely flipped out at the clerk because he missed his train. Never mind the fact that he'd clearly turned up just as the train was leaving, he was adamant the clerk had made him miss his train. She called security while I tried not to smirk.

And then I had even more time to kill so went in search of food. Easier said than done because there was a carnival on in the afternoon and every single food place was heaving. Apart from Quiznos, so I ended up trying out their subs. Not bad.

At last and surprisingly on time, the train left Toronto at 10pm. I'm figuring I'll probably not sleep great (because I never do in transit) so settle for watching the scenery go by. Which is why I got very confused when about 30 minutes out of the station the train started reversing... for nearly 15 minutes. So confused (nearly as confused as I was just now when my tablet stopped picking up my keyboard properly...)

SWIMMING MOOSE

Anyway, we must have ended up going the right way in the end. I slept... not well, but a lot better than I expected. The morning was something of a non-event, given that I was stuck on a train (and would be for another 24 hours), but I did see some beautiful scenery and I'm pretty sure I saw a moose swimming. Here is the photo evidence.

Yes, it's appalling, but I was on a train and half asleep and the moose (or whatever it was) was swimming. I think I might also have seen some beaver dams, but they could have been just piles of stuff in streams for all I know. Sleep deprivation is not great for these things.

I spent much of my second day on the train gazing out of the window and reading. The train has a car with a panoramic dome on top, which was pretty cool for getting shots like this.

And I did at least get the chance to get off the train for a few minutes when we stopped at Hornepayne. Grabbed a few pictures of the locomotives and the train.

Big ass train. Not as big as the 125 car freighter that went past us while we were still at Hornepayne.

I was also pleased to discover that the snack bar had a decent selection of tea. In my sleep deprived fog I was so grateful for a cup of reasonable Darjeeling, it was ridiculous. And then I made another attempt at sleeping. This might have been sunset...

Caffiene. I need caffiene.

Or it might have been sunrise as we approached Winnipeg at an ungodly hour of the morning. I stumbled out of the station around 8am to find that August 1st is a public holiday and the bus I had planned on taking to my hostel wasn't running. I managed to locate a Starbucks though and pilfered the free WiFi for walking directions, backed up by the friendly coppers who mentioned that they'd never been in said hostel and that I should take that as a good thing. Nice guys.

At any rate, I made it to the hostel about 10am, having drunk an enormous cuppa in Starbucks and promptly gave up on any vague plans I had to make use of my day. Two nights on a train hadn't done anything for my energy levels, so I spent the day curled up reading. I felt somewhat more justified in my lethargy when a huge thunderstorm erupted over the city later in the day and carried on into the evening. I'm pretty sure The Storm which followed us around New Zealand a couple of years ago has caught up with me.

I'm on a boat! Again!

I spent the following day exploring the Manitoba Museum. A little bit dated in places, but more than made up for with some very awesome exhibits. Things like having a ship in the museum.

That is the Nonsuch, built in Appledore, Devon and then shipped across to Canada to commemorate one of the Hudson Bay Company's anniversaries. Mostly I just liked imagining it being filled with pirates even though that wasn't really its purpose. Overactive imagination strikes again.

There's also some very cool fossils and a great bit of geekery in the form of a section through the K-Pg boundary. This is the layer of rock which marks where the Cretaceous period ended and the Paleogene began. In itself, that doesn't sound very interesting and neither does the fact that the layer is rich in iridium. But consider that iridium is rare in the Earth's crust, which indicates an extraterrestrial origin, and it starts being more important. Rambling aside, the K-Pg boundary marks the impact of the asteroid (or possibly comet) that is generally accepted to have triggered the extinction of the dinosaurs. I got way too much joy from this tiny little brown band.

I also went in the planetarium, which was suitably trippy and made my head go funny. I fixed this by going in the science gallery next door and embracing my inner child. Interactive joy! Really silly things like making a very short stop motion film using a plastic dimetrodon and elephant. Well, I'm pretty sure it was a dimetrodon. I had one when I was little...

And then I found a great river bed model where you could position dams and trees to see how it affected the flow. Suffice to say I spent too much time playing with it and it was a good job there weren't any kids around. Especially when I got bored of doing the proper investigative stuff and decided to see how long it would take to overtop the dams. So I dammed both streams and waited and then had great joy in taking the dams out and watching the resulting flood.

I should have filmed it. My inner child was so happy.

And then I spent the evening chatting with one of the guys at the hostel. See, my social skills have definitely improved. I can hold a conversation with strangers now. Hostels are good for that.

So.Much.Food.

My final full day in Winnipeg I decided to check out the Forks, which was recommended by Renee who very kindly took me for Thai when I was in Hamilton. The Forks is a little area down behind the train station where the Red and Assiniboine Rivers meet.

[IMAGE]

There's some cool little shops and a whole variety of eating places. Much as I was tempted by the delicious smells coming from some of the international stalls, I eventually settled on the Original Pancake House. Seriously, I found it hard to resist the promise of bacon and maple syrup and pancakes. This is what I ended up having for lunch.

Two pancakes, two rashers of bacon, two beautifully done fried eggs, 2 rounds of toast and a heap of hash browns (fried potatoes). Plus, of course, maple syrup and whipped butter. I surprised myself by eating it all and then had to make sure I walked around for a good while afterwards to work some of it off. That wasn't too hard - there's a lovely park in the Forks.

Satisfied that I'd at least started to burn off my carb/sugar/fat laden lunch, I settled down on a bench and read for a while. I've started enjoying this - just finding a quiet place  to sit and read and watch the world go by. Very relaxing.

I would have walked up to Assiniboine Park after that but as soon as I got out of the shade it was way too warm and even more so by the time I'd got back to the hostel. I planned instead to head out later on and visit the Museum of Human Rights, since it would've been free that evening.

I ended up curling up with my book again and having random conversations with fellow hostellers. At about 7pm I tried to convince myself to move. It's a good job I failed, because not long after The Storm made a reappearance. Insane lightning storm carried on until after I'd gone to bed. So glad I didn't go out.

Tea Turbulence

Thursday morning I managed to drag myself out of bed at a respectable hour, make some sandwiches, pack my bag, empty the last of my box of 80 tea bags into my emergency tea tin and make it down to the station with nearly 2 hours until my train.

I needn't have worried so much about getting to the station in plenty of time. The train was in the station when I arrived, but we didn't leave until about half an hour after the scheduled departure. Not that I'm complaining - it could stay late for all I cared, given that it was due into Edmonton at 6:22am the next morning. Too early.

On and on, went the train. I had to turn my music up louder because the guy behind me was total looney tunes. Not a term I use often, but he really was. Kept rambling at the woman across from him about god and the devil and demons and how money is the root of evil. If it had been coherent, it might have been interesting. As it was, it was making me uncomfortable.

I rectified said discomfort with loud music (In This Moment is excellent for this) and a surprisingly reasonably priced cup of Darjeeling. Yum. Unfortunately about 10 minutes after I sat down with my cuppa, it leapt off its seat on the windowsill and launched itself at me. I have an ouchy knee as a result, but at least the lid kept most of the tea in the cup. Still, I dislike that I managed to lose tea.

My otherwise boring day was interrupted by the arrival of a couple of kids in my personal space. I have no idea why they decided to talk to me and anyone who knows me can tell you I'm not great with children, but I ended up spending most of the evening with them and their mum playing Uno of all things. A very pleasant surprise.

Oh, and I also saw some bison. No photos though - I was busy trying to remember how to play Uno!

The bus takes how long?!

After an almost comfortable night's sleep, I woke to the news that the train was running 2 and a half hours late due to all the freight traffic we'd encountered. No worries - I figured that meant more chance of finding an open Tim Horton's/Starbucks to filch free Wi-Fi from.

As it is, I found that Edmonton's train station is quite a long way out of the city centre, unlike Toronto and Winnipeg, and although there were public transport options available, they would have taken at least an hour so I ended up taking a cab to the hostel which took about 20 minutes. This is the first time I've taken a cab on my own. I was very proud of myself.

So now I'm planning on spending my day doing some more reading, replenishing my groceries and planning the US leg of the trip because, jeez, that's loomed up all of a sudden! I then have another 3 days to explore Edmonton before I get back on the train one last time to head for Vancouver.

Rocky Mountain scenery, here I come.

Canada: Museums galore!

Bonjour! Although, really, I should be back to saying hello now, since I'm back in anglophone Canada. To be precise, I'm in Ottawa, Ontario, capital of the country. It is disgustingly gloriously warm and sunny. I also have no more problems with language barriers. Hurrah. Here's what I've been up to since last week.

I'm English! I'm used to it!

In stark contrast to the current weather here in Ottawa, my time in Montreal began with rain. Lots of rain. Rain which just didn't stop. For about 24 hours. It drizzled a bit in the morning and I thought, this is fine. It's just drizzle. I'll go to a museum for a bit until it dries up.

So I went to the Chateau Ramezay, which is one of the oldest surviving buildings in the city. Very interesting. They have the first registered car in Quebec, with the helpful reg number Q1. See - that's how you know it's the first.

I also overheard an excellent conversation between an English couple in which one had completely messed up his French. Or rather, misunderstood something relatively obvious. OK, so there's a little display about medicine in part of the museum and the game is to try to match the cure to the illness. One of the illnesses was epilepsy, another malady was menstrual cramps. Yeah.

The English chap had clearly muddled the two up and thought he was being super clever in telling his girlfriend that, to his amusement, a French term for period was "grand mal". "Haha," he says, "they call it the big bad." Technically, yes, I suppose that is what grand mal means. Unfortunately for him, grand mal is also a type of seizure. It had nothing to do with the woman on her period. I wondered if I should tell him, but he clearly thought he was being super smart and I was sort of enjoying smirking at his misunderstanding.

Random aside aside, the museum was great. Unfortunately, by the time I emerged from it, the rain hadn't stopped. In fact, it had got heavier. Fine, I thought. I'm English. I can deal with a bit of rain. So off I went, striding out into the downpour. This isn't so bad, I thought, just a bit more drizzle.

I wasn't in such a good mood by the time I made it to Pointe-a-Calliere. I was dripping. Actually dripping, to the point that there was a small puddle on the floor around my feet by the time I paid for my ticket.

Fortunately for me, Pointe-a-Calliere is a pretty big place. It's the museum of archaeology and history in Montreal and includes some exposed archaeology in the basement. Said exposed areas include the earliest cemetary in the city, dating back to the time of the first settlement there.

The museum also currently has an excellent exhibition of equestrian related things, courtesy of Hermes in Paris. Yes, that's Hermes who make the bags, but they began (and continue) as a saddler and as such have a huge collection of horsey things. Very cool.

And then, finally, it stopped raining. I had mostly dried off by then and I figured, instead of risking staying out and getting soaked again, I'd head back to the hostel. Woo. I live such a thrilling life.

What on earth is he doing to that goat?!

My second day in Montreal was dry, much to my relief. I spent a large part of it at the Musee des Beaux-Arts, at the suggestion of Renee who I met a couple of weeks back in Digby. They have the most amazing Pompeii exhibition on at the moment. Plenty of interesting bits, including this egg pan.

Yep, the Romans got there first. This rude statue, which was in a little room with a lot of other equally (and some even more) rude things.

Yeah, that was probably at the less rude end. There was a big statue in the middle of the room of Pan copulating with a goat. Yup. Romans.

Anyhoo, the exhibition also has some of the body casts. Pompeii has been on my bucket list for a while, but I figure seeing these guys will tide me over for now.

Although, it's probably not great that my first thought on seeing them was "holy crap, Weeping Angels!"

The museum also has a great section dedicated to African and Islamic art. They're not huge collections, but there were some beautiful pieces. Like this bowl from... Iran? I think?

I love the colours. And in the African section, this odd statue made by the Dogon people of Mali.

I see trees of green. Red roses too...

The next day was also beautifully sunny. I had initially planned on walking up Mont Royal and taking in the views of the city, but... I had a 3 day pass for the Metro and I figured I might as well make use of it. So instead I headed up to the Botanical Gardens.

The Gardens are right next to the 1976 Olympic Stadium, but I wasn't really interested in that. I figured I'd spend a few hours roaming the gardens and then head back to the city for some more exploration.

I ended up spending all day there. The gardens are huge and there was so much to see. First stop was the Insectarium which, yes, is like a miniature zoo for insects and other creepy crawlies. Spot the stick.

Then I had a wander through the trees and found a beautiful little clearing with some nice warm rocks to sit on. I spent a while enjoying the quiet and while I was there, this little guy joined me.

He seemed to be quite content to warm himself in the sun while I farted about with the camera trying to get something approaching a decent shot. Unfortunately, as I got up to leave, a little bird swooped on him. I think I saw him fluttering away and the bird took up a perch nearby, apparently not eating anything. I hope.

I was evidently in the mood for a lazy day, because a few minutes walk further through the gardens, I found a pond and spent another 20 minutes or so soaking up the sun before my knees felt like they were burning through my trousers and I moved.

After that, I wandered the arboretum and found some beautiful trees, like this pine of some sort which looks just like those Christmas trees with the fake snow.

On the other side of the garden, I found the tiniest little poison garden. A friend gifted me a book about poisonous plants a few years ago, so I thought this was fascinating. Fortunately, I am sane enough to know not to touch and moved on to the most amazing veggie garden. I want a garden like this.

Made me miss my veggie patch.

Only the greenhouses left after that. Highlight was probably these beautiful penjing trees. Penjing is the Chinese form of bonsai and actually predates that Japanese art.

Pretty good day all round. Plus, no sunburn courtesy of slathering myself in factor 30. I'm getting good at this.

Tourist Central

My final day in Montreal began with a trip to Notre Dame Basilica. I might not be religious, but I find churches fascinating and this one... wow. We don't really have churches this brightly decorated in the UK (y'know, what with it being mostly Anglican etc).

I spent a good hour or so in there, mostly just sitting and watching other people. It was very good for people watching.

After the relatively tranquility of the church, I braved Rue St Paul, otherwise known as Tourist Central (at least to me...). Quaint little cobbled streets, crammed with cafes and tat souvenir shops.

Not entirely to my liking. So I headed out to the Old Port complex, which also had little to keep me interested, but at least there were green spaces. And the river, of course.

Then I managed to be very organised and spent the evening booking accommodation and transport for the next few legs of my trip. This means I've managed to get a nice little AirBnB room booked in the small city of Kingston, because said city does not appear to have a single hostel. This is great because I now get to have a room to myself, even if it is only for a couple of nights.

I'm English. I don't do warm.

The next morning it was time to get back on a bus and head to Ottawa, capital of Canada (as I'm pretty sure I mentioned above...). My bus days seem to be becoming somewhat regular and also seem to leave me lethargic once I get to my new destination, which means I did nothing once I got to Ottawa.

This may have been at least partly due to the heat. I'd thought it was warm in Montreal. On stepping off the bus in Ottawa it was like stepping into a sauna.  Urgh. This was not helped by the relatively short walk to the bus stop to get to my hostel. The bus driver fulfilled the stereotype of "friendly Canadian" and helpfully told me a) when to get off the bus and b) directions to the road the hostel was on from the bus stop. Lovely chap.

Unfortunately, as soon as I stepped off the bus in downtown Ottawa, the heavens opened. And I mean, opened. It was a 5 minute walk at most to the hostel and by the time I got there I was dripping worse than the incident in Montreal. Water had got into one of my bags, so my favourite book (the only one I brought with me) now has slightly squiffy pages.

Land of Dinosaurs and Obnoxious Children

On the plus side, I'm lucking out with hostels so far and aside from not providing breakfast, this one is great. Yesterday, it being so very warm still and not wanting to get drenched again, I spent a large part of the day in the Canadian Museum of Nature. I am a massive science geek. This is well established. Surrounded by dinosaurs, stuffed critters and assorted madness, it should have been bliss.

And it was, save for the hordes of screaming children. I'm sure every single holiday club in the city must have brought their kids to that museum yesterday. Fine, when they're actually engaging with the exhibits. Not when they're just running around getting under my feet and generally being obnoxious.

I know. I'm being grumpy and unreasonable, but I like to enjoy my museums with a bit more peace. I found said peace in the Earth Gallery because small children have no interest (it seems) in rocks. I, on the other hand, do. Especially when they look like this.

Or this.

Or when they glow in the dark like this glorious lump.

Yup. Geekery ahoy! I also discovered, to my glee, that the special exhibition on the top floor was nearly deserted. Possibly because it was an extra $10 to get in, but I can deal with that when there are interesting dinosaurs galore and I have the place nearly to myself. This one had a mouth that looks like a vacuum cleaner. Don't ask why. Apparently it might have eaten low growing things. I'd say grass, but grass came after the dinos.

And this is Giganotosaurus, T rex's bigger, badder South American distant cousin. Oh, and me, because I'm told there are not enough photos of me being included in these things.

Having complained about the children on the lower floors, I made the most of them not being on this one and had great fun collecting all the stamps for the kids' "Dino Challenge" activity. Because I am cool like that and have no shame when it comes to museum activities even when security are giving me funny looks as I gleefully stamp my card yet again...

Ahem. Moving on.

It still being dry once I'd eaten, I decided to make the most of the National Gallery's late (and free) opening on Thursday evenings. This meant I got about an hour and a half browsing the galleries, which was great, plus it was a lot quieter than the museum earlier in the day. Some really gorgeous pieces, including a few Canalettos.

I love Canaletto. I don't really know why. There's just something about the way his work looks so... real, I suppose. I spotted that one from the other end of the gallery, peeping through the little archway. Then, to keep my sister happy, I went in search of some Pre-Raphaelites. I nearly walked past this one, before something in my brain went "I've seen that redhead before."

It's a Rossetti, who seems to have just painted the some redhead over and over again. I'm not sure which of his muses this one is supposed to be. My sister might be able to tell you. I think I was more amused that an artist named Dante had painted a scene from Dante's Divine Comedy.

[Google tells me the model is Jane Morris, by the way]

And then I found this bust of Nietzsche, which made me laugh purely for the ridiculously huge mustache.

Finally, outside the Gallery is this sculpture of a giant spider. I remember this from the last time I visited Ottawa nearly a decade ago. Still sort of creepy now.

I had considered walking back up to Parliament Hill for the light show, but the heavens opened once again and we got hit by an insane lightning storm. I tried and failed to take any photos of this. Well done me.

Did he just faint?

I did, however, make it to Parliament Hill this morning, where I got to watch the Changing of the Guard ceremony. Of course, this is something that happens in the UK as well, but hey, I'm a tourist and it's fun to watch.

I'm not sure it was as fun for the guards themselves in those heavy uniforms and ridiculous hats. Especially the young lad who had been second from left before I took this photo.

You might be able to see there's a gap in the front rank there. That's because the poor guy second from left fainted during the inspection. I saw him fumble with his rifle a minute before and then he just pitched face forward onto the grass. Poor bugger.

Anyway, having fulfilled my duty as a tourist and an English one at that to go and watch some weird English tradition being continued in Canada, I headed across the river and back into Quebec to visit the Canadian Museum of History. Another place I visited on my first trip here, although it was called the Museum of Civilisation then.

It's still amazing. This is the Grand Hall, which is pretty much the first place you go once you get in.

Totem poles galore. The museum presents a history of Aboriginal Canada, which stretches back thousands of years. I was intrigued to find that some of the West Coast cultures made use of nephrite jade tools, a similar material to the pounamu used by the Maori in New Zealand.

Oh, and I had lunch overlooking the river, just before it chucked it down with rain again.

Glad I spent most of the day inside again! Having piled my brain full of random facts about Aboriginal Canada, I moved on to the special exhibitions. Three of these on at the moment. The first is about carriages. I'm pretty sure I've seen Sherlock Holmes using one of these.

That is of course, the best Holmes, Jeremy Brett. Moving on. The second is about the gold rush in British Columbia in the mid 1800s. Some beautiful artefacts from other gold-mining areas, including this gorgeous, well made necklace of cast frogs from central America.

The detail on it is amazing. According to the scales on the way out, I would be worth over $2,000,000 if I was made of gold. Ah well.

And finally, an exhibition about Napoleon and his relationship with Paris. Some interesting drawings, none of which came out very well in my photos.

I resisted the urge to go in the Children's Museum, partly because it was pretty much only kids in there and apparently I do have some shame and partly because it was only about an hour until closing and I didn't fancy rushing it.

Well, I think that's everything up to date now. I have a couple more days in Ottawa and then I'm heading to Toronto via Kingston.

Someone point me in the direction of interesting Torontonian things.