November 26, 2017

So through a cock up we visited Nürnberg a few days before the famous Christmas market. Anna had originally thought that it was being held on the dates we were visiting.

We discovered that it didn’t matter because if you can live without an acre of stalls selling small wooden figurines, glühwein and sausages then you’re not missing much. However, that being said then all I knew about the city was its awful Nazi history and the fact that my Favourite Youngest Daughter seemed to fly in here every month on adidas business. Their HQ is located nearby.Ryanair continue to delight. The flights were ludicrously cheap – £10 each way (which might have been a clue as to the fact the market hadn’t started) but the random seat allocator on the web site put Anna and I 12 rows apart. Of course this could be corrected for £4! The next joy was that Ryanair had the passengers embark through one door, at Manchester, leaving you to queue on the runway and steps whilst it rained. Passengers who had not been seat prioritised (you also pay extra for that) jostled for overhead locker space delaying others getting to their seat or getting out of the rain. Lovely.

Nürnberg greeted us with the famous ivory coloured taxis (not an Uber in sight) and we were whisked into the town centre accompanied by the Everly Bros, The Doobie Brothers and Cliff Richard on the radio. And they ask why we want to leave the EU?

We were staying in the old part of the city and close to all the sights. After checking into the excellent Hotel Five in the centre we encountered the other significant challenge of the trip – vegetarian restaurants. The legal statutes of Franconia (the Northern part of Bavaria) require a German to consume at least a kilogram of pork meat every 24 hours. All very well for me but unfortunately Anna forswore the ‘fleisch’ several decades ago. A lap of the restaurants offering schweinhaxe and quite a quantity of schnitzel but few nut cutlets. However the diner at the hotel came up trumps with a veggie burger. As always the quality of the English spoken by virtually anyone is shaming to the average Brit. Our waiter, of Vietnamese extract, spoke perfect English and this was learned at school.

The German climate, whilst cold is dry in winter (apart from when it is raining, cough) and many burghers can be found at outside tables drinking and, more worryingly, often smoking. This is quite a sight as even in the harder parts of the UK then being outside after dark in the winter isn’t a popular pursuit even for those fortified with alcohol.

Day 2 – The weather was cold but quite sunny and quite pleasant if wrapped up. Generating body heat was not a problem as the next morning I was led up a steep cobbled hill to the Castle (Kaiserburg). Quite a delightful building that very occasionally housed kings and emperors. These chaps rotated around their Bavarian cities collecting money from the well healed to fight their next war. It wasn’t very grand inside and I wouldn’t recommend shelling out to look around. There is continuing refurbishment on the building. It has to said that there is quite a lot of construction in Nürnberg generally and it was worth noting that this included the obligatory blokes in hard hats and hi viz loitering as one or two were actually doing something.

The old city (Altstadt) is very authentic and looks centuries old. Nevertheless this is a reconstruction since the 1940’s. In fact British and American bombing levelled 92% of it. By 1945 it was rubble. After the war the Germans painstakingly rebuilt it all. In fact Nürnberg was the second most bombed and destroyed German city of the war. The Allies targeted it because of its war effort supporting industry and it’s iconic status for the Nazis.

After our mountaineering then we did it again with, Regina, our tour guide. She led the 11 O’clock tour up the hill. She was a Finn but had been a resident for many years. Her talk didn’t skirt the ‘dark times’ but frankly we knew enough about WW2 that it held no real interest apart from some of the practicalities that befell the residents. Nürnberg, following the War, lost its industry, or it never came back, and today it is mainly service led. Tourism is popular and the Rhine-Main-Danube Canal brings cruises all the year round through the town. They disembark for, wait for it, glühwein, sausages and small wooden figurines. They also probably partake of the magnificent cake that you can find at many cafes. We felt it necessary to sample and in fact over the next couple of days did ample research. Delicious.

The town centre with its outdoor Germans was also a hive of joinery as all the stalls were being built for the market. The influx of tourists, mainly German is immense and the market runs all the way up until Christmas. Which brings us onto another interesting fact. The Germans appear to be quite interested in Christianity. In the UK it is in dramatic decline but here the churches appear quite well supported and references to religiosity seem more prolific. Regina advised that if you belonged to a church then tithes were collected at source – 8% of the amount you paid in tax went to the church you nominated. I can imagine active marketing campaigns for new membership!

The population of Nürnberg is 501,000 and whilst most live away from the old town then many do visit the large centre and it’s shops just across the small Pegnitz River, which splits the city centre. This was vibrant and at the weekend it came alive. On the pedestrianised streets were a lot of street vendors selling delicacies, vegetables, cheeses, flowers, sandwiches and the like. It was always buzzing.

Evening dining was later solved at a Vietnamese restaurant, which was delicious, and joy knew bounds when Sky News was found on Channels 1035 on the hotel TV. Only I would trawl through so many Channels! The hope was to learn more about the Ashes, which were not in complete disrepair at this stage of the series.

Day 3 – Anna led yours truly toward the railway station. As she pointed out you could tell we were getting closer to the terminal as we passed a large old hotel, Tourist Information, McDonalds and beggars. We were bound for Bamberg. Forty miles north of Nürnberg. Or were we?Negotiating the ticket machine resulted in obtaining two tickets costing over €38. Further review of the ticket revealed that one would have been sufficient and that we now needed two other adults and four children under the age of sixteen to get the full value of our investment. If that was a disappointment so was getting on the wrong train.

Let’s call her ‘Heidi’. She was quite gentle as Anna presented our tickets and enquired if we were on the correct train? We were not and although the train was going in the correct direction it was a sort of inter city train rather than the smaller affair that ran locally. So we were ejected at Erlangen. Now slightly uncertain about the tickets we decided to visit the ticket office. Yours truly was despairing at German efficiency as two little old ladies took an age at the counter to be served. I imagined judging by the engagement and activity of the assistant that they were exploring the cost and connections involved in travelling with a small farmyard animal from Erlangen to Motherwell via Athens on a long Bank Holiday weekend in 2019 paying with Bitcoins. Eventually a counter became free and in immaculate English the lady confirmed our new travel arrangements… and without prompting reimbursed me for the extra ticket we bought erroneously. “All good in the ‘hood” we both thought.

Bamburg has importance as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. For a short time it was the centre of the Holy Roman Empire and had religious importance and still today has a number of important churches and a monastery. My eye was drawn on Wikipedia to the golden years of the 17th century when about one thousand victims were claimed in the witch trials. Those crazy Bavarians.

So we wandered around had more coffee and cake and then ambled down an alley ostensibly heading back toward the barnhof. German architecture is solid and attractive but the level of graffiti is awful. For all their discipline then it appears that many youths take delight in spraying bollocks on beautiful emulsioned walls in a variety of colours. If I were a resident then I could be attracted to joining a vigilante group to coral these morons for some 21st century ‘witch trials’.

However, grumpiness was lifted by finding a second hand record store. The Germans do have some superb shops and other masochists who read my blogs know that I have driven to Stuttgart twice in the last couple of years to visit a brilliant shop there. Here I bought a German compilation album of a British band called East of Eden. It was pure nostalgia because I saw them supporting the Jack Bruce Band at The Queens Hall, Leeds on October 8th 1971.

On the train back to Nürnberg it was rammed with school kids. Anna deduced that they were weekly boarders who were let off early in the afternoon. I remember that I used to read books and listen to music on these journeys but now like the rest of the human race I scroll through rubbish on my mobile phone. If on leaving the EU we lose our free data roaming rights then I may get my life back when on holiday.

As compensation for being accommodating on Anna’s dining limitations I was allowed to select Bratwurst Röslein for dinner. This was a large hall with wenches in bustling red dresses over their white blouses who seated you at long wooden benches and proffered menus with dishes that were probably popular a couple of centuries ago. I had the pork schnitzel that covered the full plate and Anna had a potato goulash that didn’t seem to hit the sides, on the few occasions I looked up from my emptying plate and large wheat beer.

Day 3 – Rain! We had a morning to fill and the heavens truly opened. Anna thought the best way to avoid this was by going on a tour of caves under the city! There is quite a complex under the city that had two main purposes. The first was a place to ferment lager up until the mid 19th Century. The brewing process requires a cool temperature and as the average German drank 500 litres of beer/year back in the day there was a large industry to keep Fritz and Helga blotto. However after brewing didn’t necessitate being stored underground the mainly empty labyrinths were vital as an air raid shelter. Such is the network and its depths that it limited the death count to 6,800 in the war. This is still terrible but in the most bombed city, Dresden, it was nearer 25,000.

In line with our new protocol we proceeded from the sandstone depths to a café for another piece of cake before catching the metro to the airport. All went according to plan and we got back to Manchester on time.

Splendid. Get your tickets booked. We barely scratched the surface of all its delights.

October 19, 2017

Sunday was a perfect October day. Bright, still and not yet too cold. On this basis I managed to lure the present Mrs Ives into the Morgan and we set the controls for Salturn-by-the-Sea.

Located on the North Yorkshire coast this small resort of about 6,000 people is nestled into the former heavy industry conurbations of Teesside. The town has always existed as a resort, established in the 19th Century. Boasting a long attractive beach and restored Victorian pier there is a lot to like but the town on the cliff behind is quite a small affair and not overly prosperous. Frankly you’d be hard pressed to give it a definable status in the 21st century other than as housing community for commuters to Middlesbrough.

For me it is redolent with memories. In 1965 at the tender age of 10 years old I was despatched to Saltburn Manor School to board. Seventy miles from my home. Any visit for me is an examination of a distant memory with some diverse recollections.

The school was located on a hill detached from the town by valley gardens. The link into town was via a classic 19th century 200 metre long iron footbridge. Need less to say this bridge fell into physical decline and was demolished in 1974 but by this time the school had shut. I long remember the short walk into town across this bridge. The loss of the bridge and school is quite a significant ‘erase’ and a visitor wouldn’t know of their former existence without research.

Our visit started at the pier and in stark contrast to 1965 I found three Muslim girls on the pier attempt to take a selfie. I helped by taking a group photo. We then observed the fishermen at the end of the pier wondering what fish they might haul up before ascending the steep cliff back into the town centre.

The heart of the town is dominated by the railway station and a selection of shops that at best seem remnants of more prosperous times. 

In one of these shops I remember buying my mother a record for a present. It was “Strangers In The Night” by Frank Sinatra. Another memory was the organ pipes at a local church. On Sunday mornings we were marched in a ‘crocodile’ into town for a church service. As a child I spent many Sundays sat on pews and gazing around these fairly austere and chilly surroundings, which were always leavened by some colour. Most church organ pipes are not painted but these were. Other memories include the manufacture of balsa wood models. This involved glue and dope for the paper clad wings. More brilliantly for a small boy it also included a fiercely sharp scalpel like knife to fashion the wood. I still have the scar where I managed to remove a flap of skin on my thigh!

I only spent one year here before I was sent to another boarding school in Harrogate.

On our stroll we found a local delicatessen cum grocery and enjoyed a coffee before finding the car and returning home. We found an epic winding route from Stokesley to Hemsley. Things were a little quiet on my left hand side during the journey. I later received the terse comment that I had enjoyed the Morgan on the demanding roads pushing it a little too fast though the corners. Nonsense.

September 18, 2017

September 12th was our 30th wedding anniversary and a break was planned to another European city we’d not yet visited – Helsinki. We’d both ticked off most of the other Nordic capitals together or separately but never this far north. My knowledge of Finland was limited and knowledge of anyone famous really stopped at the former Bolton Wanderers’ goalkeeper. So this trip quietly excited your intrepid explorer.

I am not that devoted to loyalty schemes but I’ve had a BA American Express air miles card for some years and occasionally cash the miles for a journey. A return flight to Helsinki in Business Class was booked!

Part of the deal of cashing these ‘miles’ is that everything flies out of Heathrow. So we plummeted down the M1 for an overnight stay prior to a flight the next day on Finnair. An evening meal was hastily planned at Newport Pagnell and a Turkish restaurant called Capadocia was selected. Anna and myself like Turkish cuisine and she could select a vegetarian selection with ease. The restaurant was busy for a Wednesday night and our meal was fine. The Turkish proprietor who floated around the tables introduced himself and asked how we’d found out about the restaurant? ‘Trip Advisor’!

Oh dear, light blue touch paper and retire…

From here he recounted a brutal review of a day earlier from a diner that had given him one star. In fact he visited the table twice to show genuine hurt and pain and even brought up the review on his smart phone to show us. The diners had thought that the food bland. “Why didn’t they tell us when they were here? We would have changed the meal or given them some money off?”

His lament continued at the low score. “Maybe three stars would have been fair?” He’ had looked through their other reviews and establishments visited recently and even opined that they were saboteurs who preferred another local Turkish restaurant and was attempting to hurt his restaurant by posting this review!

As I say the place was busy with happy customers and getting so upset over one review was not worth it. However, it does highlight the damage and outrage some reviews on Trip Advisor can create. In fact you don’t have to stay at the hotel or eat at the restaurant to write a review. By the way, my main course had little flavour! I will not be noting this with a review on Trip Advisor.

Terminal 3 is not a venue that I have any affection for. We stayed 3 miles away from it but it still took 25 minutes to reach in the rush hour. It is a tangled web of entrances and various phases of construction and I pity an elderly or less mobile traveller using it.

We were chipper however as we had use of the Business Lounge and copious coffee, fruit and pastries were consumed along with our free newspapers before embarkation. Ordinarily then any turn left would cause me discomfort but on entering the aircraft a platinum blond goddess looked at our boarding pass and sent us toward Business Class. Oh deep joy!

I had often trouped past these little cubicles after an uncomfortable long haul flight envying the lucky so and so’s who luxuriated in these pens whilst I had got a crick in my neck and little or no sleep back in ‘cargo’. Now it was my turn but sadly for only 2 hours 50 minutes. It did cross my mind to suggest that they took the ‘long way round’ to Finland to enjoy this experience more. It was bliss and a wonderful way to travel.

Helsinki airport is modern but was hellish on our arrival. The trek to the train station is past endless Duty Free shops and not only was it a long walk but the place was rammed with travellers. Most I would volunteer were Chinese nationals who transit via Helsinki before flying onto China via the shorter northern route.

We eventually made the train and had a pleasant 30 minute ride to the city centre. From here we had another walk to the hotel. We could have used an Uber or some such but it’s not our way, we’re addicted to the step counter on the iPhone! A taxi only seemed a good idea as the rain started to steadily fall.

The Four Star Boutique hotel was a 19th Century converted prison! Anna found this on Trip Advisor and it was a little strange to check into three converted cells via a heavily fortified wall but everything was quite classy and plush. In the basement they had kept one of the original cells and encouraged recent visitors to write on the walls. It was utilitarian, brutal and dimly lit – any lengthy stay here would have been hell.

We wandered the short distance into the centre near the front for dinner and dined at ‘Toca’. This was a gourmet dinner which didn’t run to à la carte menu but various choices were explained to you and then modest but adequate portions of modern cuisine appeared. It was surprising and delicious… especially as we had selected it at the hotel thinking it was a pizza restaurant! The bill before the tip came to €110. This brings us to Finnish prices. Certain things were expensive but overall the prices were fine. Food and drink was a high price but frankly eating in the centre of any major capital is never cheap is it? Everything we ate was usually delicious and beautifully presented.

The next morning we did a walking tour of the centre of Helsinki. We’re avid walking tour fans and I reckon I could write a guide for those leading them to maximise the entertainment. Our guide failed to mention that whilst the tour was free that she’d welcome tips. A lot of the folk abandoned her after two hours, literally receiving a free tour. The guides are usually students trying to raise extra funds. I think we tipped well.

Finland, like a number of the Nordic nations, is quite young. It only has a population of 5.5 millions and around 11% live in Helsinki. Over the centuries either the Swedes or the Russians have occupied it. It only gained its independence in 1917 when it took advantage of the Russian Bolshevik Revolution to break free. In the meanwhile they have a very long border with the Russian bear and know that if they want to come back then not a lot will stop them! The Soviet Union was very hostile and repeatedly tried to occupy the country during WW2 and eventually took some territory.

The Finns seemed very calm, organised and open. We were struck by how a large sand pit used by children in a park had toys left scattered around for the next day’s play. In the UK these would be locked away and the sandpit surrounded by a high fence to stop the local youth doing something horrid to it overnight. Around the city were embassies and Government offices that all looked very vulnerable to easy entry and terrorism should a malign party wish to cause harm. This Scandinavian innocence is quite a contrast to our UK world. (As we were in Helsinki then the Parsons Green Tube explosion was reported).

In the afternoon the sun came out, briefly, and I found a few vinyl record shops to look around and Anna looked at the shops in the centre. I was short of time on my tour and didn’t buy anything but found a great jazz record store where the owner seemed to be having a great time playing his personal favourites. Next door was a record store specialising in reggae. Love it.

That night it was a couple of drinks in a local bar and an omelette.

The next day we had a leisurely start and got the ferry to Estonia. It was a two and a half hour sail to Tallinn. There were cars but most of the passengers were going by foot. Near us in the queue was a party of primary school teachers going for an overnight stay and a night out. In fact many of the passengers seemed to be getting into a party mood on the ship and there was much imbibing. (The return sailing saw lads wheeling on cans and cans of beer and many others wielding carrier bags of booze. It seems a long time ago that the Brits visited mainland Europe on booze cruises, or do they still do it?)

Tallinn was beautiful. The old town was beautifully presented with its cobbled streets and old buildings. Again another walking tour filled our time and we learned quite a lot about this nation of 1.3m people. It was the usual story of occupation over the centuries by Swedes, Germans and Russians. Whilst they celebrate 100 years of independence shortly then they only got rid of the Russians in 1991. From here they achieved the Holy Grail for these small nations by joining the EU in 2004.

It is easy to see that the EU is an attractive option for these smaller nations. You get access to markets, you get subsidy, you get an internationally recognised currency and not least you get an umbrella of supposed security by being part if a larger group. Especially useful if your neighbour and 25% of your population is Russia or Russian. Add NATO membership and you may even start to dream about another 100 years of independence.

The guide for all his earnest explanation about the history and economy did excel at talking about the Estonian character. They don’t like people and seldom, if ever, socially greet each other. They are not tactile and the concept of dating is foreign to them! Meeting the opposite sex was described as either as a sort of stalking for several weeks and pretending it is a coincidence to run into the desired target repeatedly. Or the popularity of binge drinking and finding yourself, the next morning, beside a partner that you couldn’t remember meeting seemed common. I suspect this is rubbish but it did give an illuminating insight into this small nation.

Our visit to Estonia, and back, never involved the inspection or even presentation of passports. I am not sure if they are in Schengen but it seemed that terrorism could move easily between the countries. Back in Helsinki we had a pizza and checked the football results back in Blighty. Yet more rain as we walked around but never very cold.

The next morning we took a couple of bikes from the hotel and toured the peninsula where we were staying. The icebreaker ships were moored here along with other more traditional forms of sailing craft.

So from the hotel we got to a quiet Sunday airport and relaxed in the Business lounge before the flight home. Whilst Business then the cabin wasn’t the new layout, but everything else was pampering! We picked up the car and, listening to the football, drove to York.

August 31, 2017

Before I share some thoughts on Canada then it is only apposite to mention that we never nearly made it to Manchester Airport. The drive from York suffered delays due to traffic jams. After reaching the M60 via a tortuous route over Saddleworth Moor, we started to move nicely for the first time in over an hour. At a junction an old Audi came onto the motorway and in heavy traffic made a dash for the outside lane. The only problem was that he was steering directly into the side of our car at 70mph. I swerved toward the barrier in the centre, our car hit the grass and gravel and we slewed along as the Audi made the outside lane but kept accelerating. Thanks to presence of mind and a great car, with superb handling, we kept control, didn’t hit the barrier, go into a spin and take out the cars behind us or those beside us. This fool could have killed 5 or 6 people in a heartbeat.

Anyway more than a little shaken we made the flight to Toronto. I’d been here in 2015 and thought it fabulous. Arriving and exiting by bicycle was a very different experience to that of doing it by car. My time on the bike was spent by Lake Ontario and then when arriving at Niagara I only ever saw the Falls (not the town) before continuing south into the USA via Buffalo.

Toronto is organised and attractive but busy. Our hotel was massive and choked with international tourists passing through. Our city bus tour was remarkable for revealing that Toronto might be modern and important but it had no history that you could repeat or remember. In fact I remember more about the Toronto Blue Jays playing baseball at the Rogers stadium and the window cleaners at the large children’s hospital dressing as Super Heroes to entertain the young patients than anything else. The tour involved a trip across the harbour to some islands.

The main reason for this stop over in the east before heading to the Pacific was to show Anna Niagara Falls. The drive to Niagara Falls was on a rammed motorway and when we got to the waterfalls we saw the resort, just off the main drag past the Falls. This rather reduced the magic of the natural phenomena. It is literally ‘kiss me quick’ hats, burgers and amusement arcades. However, you cannot take away the majesty of these wonderful waterfalls and I can barely imagine the impact it had on the first Europeans who came across it.

From here we drove to Niagara-on-the-Lake and it was simply delightful. A small resort on Lake Ontario at the head of the Niagara River (that is part of the waterway between Ontario and Erie). This quaint and historic town is beyond manicured and full of tea shops, restaurants and most things that would carry the tag of ‘upmarket’. The flower beds and hanging baskets were a vision to behold. 

Needless to say there were many other tourists there. The surrounding area is planted with vines and it appears a considerable wine producing area. We tasted some ‘icewine’. This is fermented from grapes that are frozen at the time of picking in winter. It was very sweet, like dessert wine. After this it was back into the traffic and back for a vegetarian meal in the centre of Toronto.

Our flight to Vancouver, to complete the journey west was another four hours. This is a very large country with the 4th biggest land mass as a country but only 36m inhabitants. You quickly learn that everyone lives broadly up against the US border and some Provinces (out of the 10) such as Yukon, only have a total population of 36,000! Clearly the terrain and climate offer no incentive to live there or many places north.

Vancouver is a fine city and Anna booked us into  a more luxurious hotel this time near Downtown where we were to discover the first of a lot of German tourists. They flood across from Europe and love the west coast of the Americas. We did a Chinatown walking tour on our first morning, which was surprisingly engrossing. The Chinese came in the 19th century to build the railways. As part of British Columbia becoming part of Canada it needed a rail link. The Chinese, from the Pearl River Delta, can be viewed just as indigenous as many of the Europeans. However it was a long road for their equal rights, they even had to overcome racists laws in the 20th century. Our Canadian Chinese guide slightly gilded the story of local ethnic Chinese heroes bringing about change. I’m sure their efforts were vital but in fact the post war Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the UN in 1948 meant things had to change for the Canadians. (The plonker with the Mohican is from Australia…)

Coming up to the present day then several conversations talked of ‘Asian’ immigration or property buying throughout the main cities. These properties were not always to live in but as a speculative investment. (A lot of nations in post communist countries buy property speculatively outside their homeland e.g. Russians in London). In addition there were hundreds of Mainland China tourists in the resorts. This even led to the recycling bins having script in Mandarin to ensure tins didn’t go in the wrong bin! Like York then they are bringing considerable revenue to these tourist destinations but the cultures of China, Europe or North America do appear uncomfortable together at times. 

Even more energy sapping was being behind two people who’s first language was not English in a shop. Such was the accent that they either spent sometime repeating things to each other or, even worse, one poor lady at a fast food joint I went to only partially got what she came in to buy. Who’d be an immigrant? This partially explains the lack of integration I expect.

In Vancouver we tried to get over the jet lag, ate well, rode bikes around Stanley Park and soaked up the more laid back vibe of Canada. Eventually we picked up our second hire car and headed for Victoria Island. I paid scant attention to the holiday booking details and getting a ‘compact’ car seemed fine. It ended up being a little small and under powered. The power was undermined by the statutory North American automatic gearbox. To dust off an old politically incorrect comment then our little Nissan couldn’t pull a sailor off your sister. This meant that on some busy winding roads putting your foot down to overtake took courage and blind faith. I am a Leeds United fan: I coped.

To get to Victoria on Vancouver Island (on the south tip of the island) meant an hour and a half ferry and we absorbed the majestic views before we disembarked and made our way to the hotel. 

Here one of the staff, a chap called Waddingham, told us of his family’s origins in Hull. All good although we did correct him on his name’s pronunciation of Waddingham and not ‘Wardingharm’! Victoria is the Province capital of British Columbia and has a legislature and fine older architecture. I find it quaint that they still have ‘British’ in their name and, frankly, any residual attachment to the UK. In 1931 Canada gained their independence and any involvement of the British Parliament went in 1982. The Royal Family is still affectionately regarded. Will and Kate visited Victoria fairly recently but frankly when the Queen passes I think the majority of the Commonwealth, let alone Canada, will call time on any remotely formal connnection.

We saw the city by bicycle and here Jessica steered us up and down hills and kept us away from traffic. Vancouver Island was the first settlement in British Colombia and hence it became the capital despite being detached. 

Today Vancouver is several times larger but the Parliament resides here. I expected a distinct difference between the USA and Canada to be evident: it wasn’t. The Canadian’s accent, TV channels, road signage, chain stores, cars, types of food, ambience etc seemed just a continuation. Even detail like the yellow school buses were evident. To this end the shadow of the USA looms large and not larger than Trump. In fairness he has freaked out the world with his language, behaviour and perceived priorities. He has many people all caught like rabbits in the headlights and for better or worse then sensibilities and fears of many are heightened to the extent that he is a preoccupation. I sensed it in a few conversations and as always you could rely on the ubiquitous CNN to talk negatively 24/7 on all things Trump – I don’t doubt some of the negativity is well earned. 

From Victoria we weaved on a motorway and then minor roads to Ucluelet on the west coast of the island. There are several names that originate from the Native Indians or First Nation people who were here long before the Europeans. In this small coastal town there was tourism and also facilities for fishing trawlers. The trawlers brought ashore hake (for McDonalds!), salmon and other white fish. We had a fabulous trip off the shore in a launch with other tourists. The expedition was to find Grey Whales but sadly there were none to see. However we saw many Sea Lions, Sea Otters and Bald Eagles. The tranquility of the sea near the shore and the clear fresh air were glorious and enervating. Back at our apartment we dipped in the jacuzzi and ate our store bought provisions. The following morning we sadly had to depart but not before a quick hike around a trail directly on the shore. Wonderful and I think we’ll be back.

So another ferry and then a straightforward drive up to Whistler. Whistler is a skiing resort but in the summer there are some scenery seekers, like ourselves, but also hundreds of mountain bikers. When we got there we discovered competitions which brought in many young chaps on expensive bikes. However many others with the right head and body apparatus took the lifts to the top of the mountains and came down on the trails. During the winter then these would be the various ski slopes. It looked great fun for all ages as the gradients, like ski slopes, were graded. We were in a hotel with some catering facilities and on arrival popped out to the supermarket. Licensing laws meant that the store didn’t sell alcohol and as it was 9 pm nowhere else was open. To rectify this crisis I went to the hotel bar and returned to the lift with 2 pints to ascend to the room. A crowded lift turned toward me to note my 2 pints. I felt clarification was necessary and I did blurt out”they’re not both for me!”

It was here that it struck home how expensive Canada was. Two people eating out with a drink and basic fare would bash £50. I wouldn’t pretend that we didn’t budget for this but you do get to a point where it isn’t as if you are doing more than refuelling at a high cost. 

Whistler hosted part of Vancouver’s 2010 Olympic set up and it is a well laid out town with great facilities, links and transport for skiers. However, frankly it wasn’t suitable for folk like us passing through with just scenery and relaxing in mind. I think it’s reputation blinded us and so we went. Don’t go unless you’re on a mountain bike or skis. 

One notable thing to mention about Canada is pedestrians, of which Whistler had many, and the car. The pedestrian has priority and courtesy is shown by the motorist at all times. Not only do the cars wait for walkers to complete their progress to the kerb but hold back some distance. This courtesy is extended to cyclists. It’s just in the culture. There is endless debate in the UK about making the roads safe for cyclists. Solutions include car exclusion, cycle lanes on roads, specially built cycle paths, execution for offending drivers by beheading etc. Frankly a good start would be the elevation of the pedestrian and cyclist, when sharing the same space, to be respected and protected. Costs nowt an’ all.

The drive to Kamloops, the biggest town in this part of the Rockies, was tough. It was single lane and slow traffic made the going miserable. On the odd occasion that an overtaking opportunity arose I gunned the poor little Nissan within an inch of its life past a bus or dawdling SUV. I’d never heard Anna pray out loud before…

Our first stop for some lunch was Lillooet where our sandwiches were prepared by a lady from Glasgow. Her escape to this absorbing scenery and clear mountain air made a lot of sense. This small settlement has had many incarnations, not least as a rail stop and mining town. The heritage of the town is preserved by a number of graphics that mainly hark back to the 19th Century. However, one piece of recent history was the incarceration of the Canadian Japanese population in WW2 after the bombing of Pearl Harbour. Many were shifted from the coast, where they traded and were fishermen, to the interior. In retrospect then this seems very harsh and wrong. If, given the issues, you can understand that then maybe not the confiscation of Japanese property and assets which they received scant compensation for, if any. They weren’t allowed freedom of movement until 1949 or an apology until 1988. 

A brief stop at Blue Water was to again break the journey and buy an ice cream. This settlement had experienced forest fires and the road had been closed recently. It was pleasing to see that a sign in the Welcome Center offered fire fighters free drinks. Attached to the Center was the Gift Shop. The Canadians are no slouches in every part of British Columbia or Alberta at flogging swag. As I sauntered back to the car my bride bought four very nice coasters made of slate and etched with the images of elk or moose. Pleased with her purchase as we drove off I volunteered that a First Nation Indian had not spent a winter’s day sat on the unheated clay floor of his wigwam holding the slate between his feet whilst he chipped away with tools made from flint and animal bones. More like that a man called Mr Lee based in a large factory on the outskirts of Shanghai had been the machine operative who was producing about 500 coasters per hour. Naturally this ‘negative’ comment was dismissed until she established the country of origin on the box. She was partially correct in that his name probably wasn’t Mr Lee but Mr Wang.

Kamloops is a large town and due to the lack of other big towns miles around it seems to be the centre for every car dealer, motel, lawyer, appliance showroom in the area. We were located just outside of town at a hotel that might be described as more of a ‘country club’. It had a gym, bikes to ride, swimming pool and a wedding! We partook of the first three and then drove back into town for dinner. The weather was getting warmer and despite being in the Rockies, and our experiencing some rain, then we were regularly above 20° C.

Rain greeted our residual drive to Jasper. The first thing you feel is the deep local welcome when you get there: from Australia. There appears to be an acute shortage of bar staff and shop assistants throughout the Rockies. Australia (and New Zealand) has stepped into the breach. Many of these millennials have been here for some time. We talked with a few, usually the opening line was, ‘you’re a long way from home?’ Many had come and stayed. Given the flight time and cost to the Antipodes I can see how they had ended up residents. By way of variation the present Mrs Ives had booked us into a log cabin on the banks of Lake Patricia.

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Everyone likes a picture of a train, be honest.

Jasper is small, mainly summer driven, resort overwhelmed by Brits, Germans and Chinese. It is on the famous Canadian Railway line and hosts the tourist train that pulls through every day. It is also ideally located for local lakes – Maligne, Pyramid and Patricia. It’s on the latter that we stayed in a log cabin. (Just to return to an earlier theme, then on Lake Pyramid you could hire canoes by the hour – $40). We tripped out to see the lakes and absorb the beauty. It was chilly and overcast for some of the days and the beauty is cast into monochrome only to fully hit you when the sun comes out and glorious Technicolour abounds.

Anna had so wanted to see bears and as you drive along then there are many road signs warning of wildlife. Needless to say our sightings were limited but we did see one bear on a bank near the road. That was it. Elks were not so hard to find and this moose was caught early evening grazing.

The Icefields Parkway is the 180 mile stretch of road that takes you south in a long valley. Either side are lakes, glaciers and creeks can be found often with bus loads of other tourists. 

Our pleasure was taken in a steep hike to the top of a very tall hill/mountain to look down on Lake Peyto. The colour of the water is made by a fine silt that is found in the lakes.

Our last stop was Canmore, a mere stone’s throw from the famous Banff. This is an upmarket little town full of expensive second homes and a main street selling specialist bagels, artisan coffee, gifts and craft beers. Our B&B was exceptional and a very Continental breakfast afforded talking to the other guests who were mainly Canadians. Topics from Bonnie Raitt, Alberta oil sands, speaking French and that bloke Trump (again) were discussed. There were a selection of great eating options and one owned by a brewery that did small samples for $10.

We drove back to Banff to see what the fuss was about and it was just a little bigger with more tourists and shops selling stuffed elks, key fobs, cushions with Mounties on them and similar tat. I believe it is more important in winter when the skiing season will fill all the hotels on the outskirts.

Back in Canmore we rode bikes along the river, drank coffee, drank beer and headed back up the road past Banff to see Lake Louise. It was so named after Queen Victoria’s fourth daughter. The graphic telling this described Victoria as the ‘Queen of England’ – slightly disappointing to read given Canada’s place in the Commonwealth.

To celebrate our disappointment we ascended 1,000 feet for over 2 miles for a cup of hot chocolate and a large piece of banana bread – a fair exchange in my book. The step count on the iPhone said we had ascended 79 floors!

A return to Canmore for a bagel was bewildering. I was asked by the young man, resplendent with tattoos, hat and piercings, what I wanted? Such was the enormous choice that I took some time to answer. Like all attentive youngsters dealing with older people he patiently smiled and then repeated the question. I did gently ( a major concession on my part) say that I understood the ‘kin question but was considering my choice. His mother loves him.

It would be remiss not to talk about what the Canadians have done to our language. Despite some British spelling then they mangle ‘aluminium’ like the Yanks. Their metal is pronounced aloominum and Hyundai is bastardised to Hundi. By way of forgiveness we did enjoy some of the language such as a dog accessories shop was called ‘Mutt Hut’ and the children’s section of the menu at one restaurant called ‘Cub Grub’. I would add the establishment was called The Grizzly Paw.

Our last day was spent in pursuit of retail joy. We found two malls that sold CD’s and vinyl LP’s and Anna found Gap and Coach. The Canadian economy benefited. 

Whilst waiting for Anna to pay for the unbelievable ‘bargain’ purchase I chatted with the young lady handing out ‘50% off’ vouchers at the entrance. She is a student and this is a Summer job. She hopes to become an optician. She suggested that the 27° C weather outside would soon fall apart and that Calgary would be cast into a freezing winter and only emerge in May. No thanks. The Mall attracts a lot of tourists and many from Mainland China bulk buying – Anna followed a lady at the till buying 9 identical bags no doubt for redistribution back home.

We wended our way to the Airport and dropped off the hire car. A diligent chap looked around the car for damage, checked the fuel and what not. I did advise that the engine was missing. Now usually my profound hilarity is met with ‘tumbleweed rolling across an empty street’. However, being a bright bunny he did reflect and surmise that such an underpowered car in the mountains was sluggish and disappeared to provide a $5 free coffee card and a free car upgrade the next time we rented with Alamo. Being a prat does on occasion pay off!

The flight home, via Heathrow to Manchester, was routine. 

So Canada? Kind, beautiful, genuinely interested in the environment, organised, quite expensive compared to the USA but similar in taking a lead from, culture, food, language, appearance and system. A bit ‘vanilla’, somehow too gentle and giving the impression of a new country that’s still finding its identity.

So where next?