November 28, 2011
Jericho Beach
Jericho Beach Sunset
The rapid descent down to the West Coast left me with an ear infection. It affected my balance and everything seemed to be leaning to one side.
We stayed in a beautiful old backpackers on Jericho beach, just outside the city. At night you could see the distant, twinkling lights of down town Vancouver. Next to the hostel was an equally old wooden theatre, we attended a shakespearean play where the audience had to wear masks.
This was probably the best hostel for making new friends. I ended up working there changing beds for my nights board. There were a few truly weird people staying here. I had to refuse cleaning one mans bed as he defecated at night and left it in a tied up plastic bag on the window side. I lost interest in bed cleaning duties around this time.
It started to feel like I was working in a prison block, rolling my little troly past all the blokes in the morning “new pillow case please mate”, and “have you got an bog roll there” and so on. One bonus was being given ‘first dibs’ on lost property, something which was to haunt me later on.
I remember a small party on the beach. We sat around a camp fire underneath the blanket of stars, burning autumn drift-wood, and drinking Kokanee beer. The crackle of our fire, accompanied the gentle sound of the cold Pacific waves against the shore, a great place to get pissed without a care in the world.
Vancouver
Wreck Beach
My partner and I made the lengthy treck to Wreck nudist beach. It was all a bit hippyish with live music and naked people selling hot dogs at sun down. I remained clothed, however my partner went topless and soon attracted other “nakeds”. I later signed a petition to keep the beach free from commercial development and to keep the ‘bare bummed’ hot dog sellers in business.
One of the highlights of Vancouver was a trip up Grouse Mountain. The cable car takes you high above the city, with panoramic views of forest filled Pacific islands beyond. Wherever we went, we seemed to have these locations to ourselves. It was late in the evening and the lights of Vancouver were beginning to glisten miles below, you just felt so tiny amid the vast forests and huge horizon.
On the way up we had already found a $20 note on a park bench, being tight for money we took this a sign of luck.
Grouse Mountain, into the Pacific
We were sitting in the restaurant overlooking the urban patchwork of Vancouver, when a lady from the opposite table got up and placed something into my partner’s hand, she clasped her hand tight and muttered a few words. She had overheard our conversation about spending and placed a $20 note into my partners hand, two $20 notes in one day.. We ate well that evening with a feeling of fate being on our side.
Vancouver was very modern, and busy during the day. The music scene seemed slightly hindered though by early licensing laws. One evening we were salsa dancing in a jazz bar and some guy invited us to a break-dancing competition. We accepted his offer and were enticed by the prospect of a T.V. network who were apparently covering the event.
Vancouver
It soon became evident this was not the case, we had to walk into a Caribbean takeaway, and then down a ladder through a hatch in the kitchen floor, into a small concealed basement.
There were no camera crew, just a painted circle on the floor with a DJ playing hip-hop. The break-dancers were good but the atmosphere was moody, my partner didn’t feel safe so we left after a few bottles of Budweiser with one guy trying to block the door.
I also walked down a dodgy part of the infamous ‘Hastings Street’ for a dare, taking pictures as I went. It was full of beggars, drug dealers and other shady characters and I met a scar faced man from Luton who, after realising I didn’t want to buy his dope, advised me to “be careful man, yeah!?”.
Vancouver Island & Home
Fan Tan Alley, Victoria
After a couple of weeks in Vancouver we set sail for Victoria, navigating our way through the Strait Of Georgia.
Victoria was a funky little city, some great shops existed amid the tourist trail, such as the psychedelic record store in Fan Tan Alley (a place I could not resist).
I think I ate some of the finest pizza in my life in this little city. We were interviewed live on Canadian T.V. about the whale watching and how it was becoming commercialised.
We went out ourselves one day, a tiny boat sped us right out into the Pacific and we were lucky enough to get ahead of an Orca whale pod. They were magnificent and very lively, breaching the surface with leaps and splashes, they were so huge and our boat so small in comparison – they came really close and we were all treated to the creaks of their communications via a small receiver dipped into the water – seeing them in their natural habitat made the Aquarium in Vancouver seem a bit cruel.
Pod of Orca whales, north Pacific
We had accumulated a small rabble of friends in Jericho who accompanied us to the Island, all really good folk and some brilliant times were had, from playing volley ball on a hotel roof, to eating chocolate covered insects, not to mention being accused of stealing cookies from a cat ridden hostel.
Upon returning to Vancouver, my partner and I decided that home was calling and money was thin, so we embarked on the long journey back to England.
Canada was an epic 7,000 mile journey, on highways and through prairies, in endless redwood forests and up Rockie Mountains, with a great ending in the Pacific north west, a journey best made with a backpack and a shoe-string budget!
Calgary
As the coach apprached Calgary, we passed through intriguing places such as Maple Creek and Medicine Hat, the approach to the city limits was one of the most stunning.
Calgary
You gain a true sense of nature’s scale with the man-made skyscrapers in view, framed by the far off, pink back-drop of the snow tipped Rockies.
I found Calgary to be a very user friendly city. I recall being a bit saddened at the amount of down-and-outs around the hostel. Most of these seemed to be native indians. I was offered work by a strange guy who worked on the oil rigs in the north during winter. He turned aggressive to others after drink.
Staying in hostels could throw up some interesting characters, and having to sleep in the same room could be a bit uncomfortable at times.
Trans Canadian Highway
We attended a reggae bash one hot and dusty evening in an old part of town. At one point a bottle fight broke out between two rival gangs, the staff were cowering under the bar, as bottles flew from side to side.
We often explored places like this, off the beaten track, to gain a true perspective of Canada, you don’t get the same ‘tourist’ treatment when you cross the tracks.
Banff
The road to the Rockies was impressive, as expected. I seem to remember
Sulphur Mountain gondolas
the mountains looming like an immense wall of darkness, which cast huge shadows over the ever nearing foothills.
We ascended by Greyhound into the heart of the Rocky Mountains, to Banff, our first destination in British Columbia.
Banff hostel was an impressive log cabin perched on the outskirts of town. We had our first encounter with an Elk – an extremely large and grumpy one was plonked, grazing, by the entrance to the hostel. Elk are responsible for more injuries to humans than bears in Canada, and frustratingly for me, this one was stood guard over the entrance.
Once settled in, we were advised to take a trip up to Sulphur Mountain with the hot springs so, the next day we took the long trek up the hillside.
There had been a few bear attacks around that time, being ignorant to the danger we took a route through the lower forests and emerged out by a bus stop. An elderly lady complained about how we shouldn’t have chosen that route, with a black bear warning in force at the time.
Banff National Park
We took the cable car up as far as we could go, it felt like being on top of the world.
The visitors centre offered views down over the wooded valleys with Banff carved out of the middle. Banff, as a town, was very touristic and there were lots of late night bars serving Coors and Kokanee beer.
One night we ended up in a lively bar with a band playing, they band were all naked much to the womens entertainment.
Lake Louise
Lake Louise was by far the most stunning place we had visited in the Rockies,
Lake Louise
we took a grand day trip up to the ice flows.
There were several routes up to the Lake from the hostel and I think we took the longest one, it was a quiet and secluded track which followed a pearlescent blue creek – bear territory and no bear-bells again.
The journey up to the ice flow skirted around the valley of the lake and we rested at a log cabin settlement which served tea and muffins.
By the time we reached the ice flows, the last of the tourists had passed us on their way back down. It was quiet and eerie up there, the only company was from the odd chipmunk and a cool and gentle wind in the trees.
On the way back down it was getting dark fast, I was winding up my partner by making bear calls across the wooded valley, until what sounded like a bear cry came back in the far off distance. I shut up rather quickly, I had to remind myself that we were not in Symonds Yat anymore.
Toronto
Toronto was fast paced. The soaring skyscrapers and evening glow of the CN Tower was clearly visible from our brightly coloured youth hostel.
The MD from Amato back in London hooked me up with
CN Tower Toronto
the manager from Eastern Bloc records in the city. I took a copy of a track named ‘Woman’ which I had been working on with a friend back in England.
He said he would take an initial 20 copies when it reached release. He also got us onto the Industry guest list, which was renowned across Northern America and Canada. We met clubbers who had driven up from Detroit and New York to catch some of the Techno DJs there.
The suburbs were fascinating and we stumbled across a fab flea market, selling retro leather gear and boxes of cool 60′s and 70′s vinyl. I picked up some cool titles, from The Doors to Beatles albums, not quite so collectible as the English pressings, but a bargain at $10 a shot. This bag of vinyl records, was to slowly accumulate across Canada and become nearly as much a pain to lump around as my partners bag of shoes, which I was now responsible for.
We took a trip to China Town, with all the vegetables and produce on stalls
China Town, Toronto
and in the gutter. I managed to trade in an old watch for a new one which was made from a spliced section of a gun barrel.
A visit to the CN Tower was blagged for free, the views from the top offered an infinite horizon of skyscrapers, suburbs and lakes.
Our time was spent between two hostels there, and on one occasion, I remember being caught sleeping on the top bunk next to my partner. Not a problem usually, but we were in a female only dorm and I had to make a quick exit after a Chinese woman awoke to the sound of my snoring. She would have looked up to catch a glimpse of my bare bum hanging over the edge of the bunk – I heard a yelp and the door opened in the darkness, and with a pitter patter of feet she had informed reception of my presence, I made a fast exit back to my room!
Niagara Falls
Niagara was next up courtesy of the Greyhound bus. The youth hostel there was a huge old wooden building with a swing
Niagara Falls
chair out front. We unpacked and made our way to the Falls. It was jammed full of tourists, and everywhere seemed over commercialised, the volume of water cascading was impressive but there seemed to be a plethora of cheap burger bars and litter.
A walk into the quiet office district the next morning, offered an authentic coffee bar, we tried waffles with maple syrup, the locals were friendly and i strangely enjoyed this more than the falls.
Niagara was fairly peaceful, and we only stayed a night, with thoughts of the Rockies and the Pacific North West on our minds. Summer was fading fast and it was time to pack once again, chasing the sun into the West.
The Great Canadian Interior
We prepared for the 30 hour coach trip to Winnipeg. The coach skirted Lake Superior, stopping off at quiet backwaters such as Sudbury, Sault Ste Marie and Thunder Bay. These were for driver breaks, fag breaks, pizza breaks and a chance to stretch the legs for half an hour.
Winnipeg reminded me of a small UK city, and after being warned
Canadian Interior
by a member of the youth hostel about the local area, and a string of assaults on backpackers, we stayed just one night. We viewed the city and great river, then embarked on the next leg of the journey along the ‘Trans-Canadian Highway’ to Calgary.
This journey moved from vast great lakes, to immense prairies of the interior country. One night, I remember being one of the few people left awake on the Greyhound, we were seated at the front, and I was talking to the driver as we struggled through a rain storm where the roads turned into rivers. He stopped talking as the lightening started hitting the ground ahead, I lay back and turned on my Walkman, as I listened to ‘One Rainy Wish’ by Jimmy Hendrix, a massive bolt of lightening struck just metres from the coach and I sank deeper into my sleeping bag and tried to sleep!
In the summer of 1998, I was in the process of recording my first record album.
Snorkie Release on D*Fusion Records
I was signed to ‘Amato Disco’ and had to travel down to London for recording sessions.
Meanwhile, my partner was becoming frustrated with living in rural Herefordhsire, so, I suggested she take ‘time out’ and join a friend who was about to explore Canada after finishing Universisty.
Contact was extremely difficult due to the vast distance between us, there were no mobile phones and no permanent address. After a couple of weeks I decided to join her, not wanting to miss out on the fun.
I managed to quickly scrape together the cash, and within a week, the tickets were bought, passport renewed and backpack & sleeping bags borrowed from my brother. The record album was put on hold, and some of my music equipment had to be sold to fund the trip.
Hawkwind
The Lakes from above
On the flight across, members of legendary space-rock band ‘Hawkwind’ were on the flight, and their groupies were getting drunk. We chatted and I handed them a demo tape of a friend’s band.
We touched down in Toronto and the coach soon departed for the city centre, I was greeted with cross town traffic, bumper to bumper.
The wide busy lanes reached out to the impressive hazy skyscraper horizon. I alighted at the busy downtown district and, racing through busy streets of suited office workers, with my heavy back pack on, beads of sweat dripped from my forehead. Would I make the last train to Montreal to meet my partner? She was keen to move on and I had no ‘plan B’.
The Wrong Backpack!
I missed the last train.. and the last bus, not only that, I had picked up the wrong back pack in the airport.
Hawkwind Spacerock
I resigned myself to catching the midnight coach and left a message with my partner’s youth hostel to inform her of the delay.
At the ticket office, I reached into the backpack to retrieve my wallet, but in its place there was a beige bikini top? It was an identical bag but with a Maple Leaf sewn on to the front – the thing had been on my back since the Airport.. I had collected someone elses flippin backpack!
Luckily, I had several hours before my new departure, enough time to hoof it back to the terminal and swap it for the right one. As I approached lost property, I was unnerved to see Hawkwind waiting there, thankfully, not for the bag I had picked up. The band’s guitars had gone missing.
I finally caught my midnight bus, and I awoke to a huge and intense sunrise as we cruised into the Montreal suburbs. I flicked through the radio stations on my Walkman for company, and as daylight broke, the neon signs blurred through the misty windows of the coach.
Montreal
Montreal Sunrise
To my great relief, my partner arrived at the bus station with a large grin on her face, we hugged, and then began the short walk back to the youth hostel.
The hostel was a basement of a hotel, and as I descended into the darkness of the male dorm, a smell of sweaty feet and farts overwhelmed me, bodies lay beneath a stillness of bed sheets in the crisp Canadian heat. My first job was to open a tiny window hidden behind security bars; the morning sunlight, and warm summer air, christened the stale fausty room!
Heatwave
There was a heatwave in Canada that year, and I discovered that you could run a cold tap as long as you liked in Montreal and it would still run warm, but I soon acclimatised to the heat, the city was alive, waiting to be explored!
Jello Jazz Bar
We toured bars and clubs at night, from dingy rock venues to dodgy hip hop joints, where the local rude-boys carried walking sticks and danced around them- we visited some great bars, playing cutting edge house music and drum & bass! Montreal is a diverse musical city. Rockerfella Skank by ‘Fatboy Slim’ had just been released and it could be heard everywhere.
One memorable night, we visited the infamous Jello jazz bar. We danced some salsa with two American ‘gals’ from Montana who were getting into the spirit, there was a feeling of camaraderie among the backpackers, and Charli had attracted some attention from a sleazy Mexican guy.
We toured the city by day, sampling crepes and sipping coffee at the foot of skyscrapers, we walked parks and viewed the city from up high. But time was passing, and we decided to head back to Toronto.
