Nick Byng Blog
Old Times, New Times, The Big Time!

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!