Neeeew Yoooork Ciiiity & RickyG

I awoke early saturday morning after a blurry karaoke&goodbye filled night, and a mere 2 hours sleep, ready to furiously pack my bag and set off in a car with my sister and my brother's girlfriend for my very first ever trip to NYC. (Yes, that's right my lovelies, I am 27, live in montreal, work in a creative profession, and have never been to NYC. It's a mystery to me too.)Also, this was not simply a departure to NY, but a departure from Montreal; over the next three weeks i'll be in Montreal for a grand total of another 2.5 days before I leave for Australia where I will stay for up to 12 months.. The reality of my departure is setting in fast!

The 7 hour road trip teaches me 3 things. First, my laptop battery is nearing the end of its life, and making a driving playlist/CD is a task best finished *before* climbing into the backseat of the car. Second, indulging in truck-stop junk food is wildly tempting and promises to satisfy a bizarre culinary guilty-pleasure related somehow to a childhood of eating *good* food, but is never as enjoyable as my imagination promise. Third, most of the 'cheese' used at Taco Bell is of the kraft slices variety. ick.

We cross the bridge into NYC at 5pm. The city looms as we approach, and the drive thru is an odd experience of finally seeing in person the urban landscape so familiar to me already through pop culture. Wide, car-filled streets with tall buildings and packed sidewalks. Lovely building facades with fire escapes unceremoniously tacked on top. Occasional square of greenspace overflowing with active New Yorkers of all ages enjoying the sun, heat, and company. A few minutes later in central Manhattan we are greeted by a friendly woman named Ximena whose apartment we are renting for three days. As she 'gives us the tour', she serves us homemade lemonade and then takes us up to a rooftop party with an incredible view of the city skyline. That evening we dine at Schiller's where I gorge on a delicious cuban sandwich and marvel at the lettering (numbering?) on the bottles that line the wall. We then drive over to brooklyn and spend the night getting strikes & gutterballs at "The Gutter", a great bowling alley with good beer, 70s furniture and a cozy bar. We cap off the night back in Manhattan with some typical new york pizza, and discuss how post-drinking eateries seem to be a great equalizer, bringing all kinds of people together at the end of the night, united by their love of greasy hangover-preventing snacks, sitting elbow to elbow devouring different-but-similar slices of pizza.

Sunday we get up less-than-bright-and-early for an eagerly awaited brunch/lunch at Cafe Habana on Prince Street. The food is great, the highlight being the Grilled Cornonthecob covered with Queso Blanco, chili powder and lime. We think we see Perez Hilton, but are disappointed a quick blackberry-internet-picture-check later. After a wander through the designer markets and a subway trip, we find ourselves basking in the sun with about 1000 other sunbathers in central park, in 'sheep field'. We then groggily stroll over to the MOMA where we finish the days activities off with a rushed-1h-before-closing survey of art and design from 1870-1940. Seeing Les Desmoiselles D'Avignon in person is pretty overwhelming! I take in 1940-present in about 5 minutes as the guards corral us towards down-only-escalators 5 minutes before closing. Tired, we head back to the apartment, making a quick stop at Wholefoods for some hor d'oeuvres and a bottle of Rose which we happily devour back on the rooftop, watching a pale pink sun set over the NYC skyline. Dinner is Indian, drinks are at a half empty club, and the night finishes happily with cider and lemondrop shots on yet another improvised rooftop terrace (read: kitchen chairs on tarpaper) this time in Brooklyn. We get to bed around 4, simultaneously excited for and dreading another full day in NY.

Not surprisingly, monday sees us rising late, and we don't make it out till at least 11. We basically spend the afternoon doing lots of rushed shopping, including gawking at haute couture and anticipating celebrity spottings in SOHO. (no dice.) Another rushed museum visit, the Guggenheim this time, is discussed, but rejected thanks to everyone's mutual need to retreat to the apartment for a nap! A few hours later, we are off to see Ricky Gervais do a standup act at Madison Square Gardens. The spectacle is exciting, the act is hilarious, only slightly marred for me by the fact that i've seen about 70% of the show already on DVD a week earlier. But this allows me to discover first-hand how excellent an actor Gervais is, with his rehearsed-but-convincingly-spontaneous style. We take in Times Square, a spectacle best seen at night to be sure. I wind my way through crowds perched on the curb watching baseball on a screen overhead, passionate couples arguing loudly, long lines of caricaturists with thier prey, and other tourists like myself tripping over each other as we look nowhere but up and/or through our cameras. To finish off the night, we head to Jamon for some lovely Rioja and tasty Spanish tapas. The quail en escabeche disappears much too quickly, as does the pickled sardines and the freshly cut serrano ham. Inspired, I vow to actively embark on an education in wine appreciation. About 7 years too late, but better late than never.

And with that vow ends my first trip to New York City. Tuesday morning we're up early for our flight, and after minimal security checks (i did have to take off my shoes) we're on a plane back to Canada. Next stop: Manitoba; Winnipeg, then Neepawa, for tons of family catch-up, lots of tea, BBQed food and soft-serve ice cream, the Neepawa 125th homecoming / lily festival, and a re-grounding in half of my confused cultural background - the prarie.

staying, going, staying, going...

Its has been just over 6 weeks since I have been back in montreal, and I'm just about to leave for parts of canada. After a short North American expedition I'm off, straight back to Australia and Byron Bay, just in time for the Splendour in the Grass music festival, where 18 000 people invade that small town for a weekend of rock madness. Sadly I have no tickets. But I've been assured the perimeter fences are a minor obstacle ...

I'm excited to go back, but I'll admit that my excitement is heavily overshadowed at the moment by the contentment I feel being back in Montreal. The city is alive, humming with the movement of people who are trying to make the most of these warm summer days before winter threatens us with its gaunt, autumn-colored fingers. So many old friendships in need of re-cementing, new friendships to hurriedly make a foundation for before I leave. So, dare I say it, I feel sad to leave Montreal. Sad to the point of fantasizing about staying a bit longer... I know what that would mean, tho. It starts with a Job, followed up by an apartment, then suddenly it feels *impossible* to leave again. At the moment I have the benefit of a very temporary living situation to help me stay focused (I'm unemployed and sleeping on a foam mattress on the floor at my sister's apartment - it has smurf sheets for heavens sake. Ok, maybe that's a perk...)

One of the exciting things about being back in Montreal was rediscovering the city i've known for so long, the city that is a part of me to the point of becoming invisible. It was invisible. When I lived there, the city was a totally ubiquitous part of my daily life. But now it suddenly exists again, and I'm dying to consciously rediscover my favorite parts of Montreal, so I can share them with others and appreciate them more fully. But to be honest, I'm beginning to think it's naive to believe you can ever see with any distance or impartiality anything you are/were once so close to. Maybe you can suspend partiality, as you 'suspend disbelief' when you watch a movie, but it's still a different creature from having fresh, naive eyes.

Since I had some free time on my hands, I decided to volunteer with the Montreal Fringe Festival a little bit, which was alot of fun, and I highly recommend it to anyone. I mostly worked the beer tent, which is a great job; it lets you socialize with guests and other volunteers and watch performances while you work. Being involved in the fringe reminded me of being at the Arts Factory a bit; it's a condensed, brief, emotionally intense experience of meeting people, forming bonds, some of which you know wont last past the fest, but you can pretend nonetheless.... And then some will, and you will be pleasantly surprised. I saw a few shows, including Degrassi! The Musical, which was a fun reminder of all the things I loved about that show, and Blastback Babyzap - a great sketchcomedy show from some truly brilliant actors. Ok, I may know these guys personally. But hear my honest, unbiased review: it rocked.

My transience has continued - combine couch surfing with not working and unusual amounts of going out drinking & dancing, and I feel like I'm still on the road! On the road, yet in a very familiar place. Familiar, and yet unfamiliar, since I've been experiencing the city in a truly different way than ever before in my life. It's been bizarre to say the least. But as a result of this 'continual travel', homesickness is starting to set in. (wondered when this would happen!) I'm starting to miss having a sense of connection with a place - an anchor. Being unanchored is a liberating feeling that goes hand in hand with an opportunity for some great personal discovery. It's great, until you start to feel like you're just... drifting. I guess it's time to refocus, to brush the dust off my shoes and bag and hit the road again. What luck, as I'm just about to exactly that.

Byron Bay to Montreal- a temporary end, a chapter summary

Wow! So, it's been a while since i've last posted. That partly has to do with the fact that I hadn't changed spots, I stayed in Byron Bay for the last six or seven weeks! Being there felt right, and I just couldn't leave.

Which brings me to this: I have news, my lovelies. The reason I stayed in Byron so long is because I decided that three months in Australia is just obscenely too short, so after a short stint back home, I'm returning to Oz on a (up to) 12month working visa! Traveling without working is expensive stuff and only viable for a few months MAX, so this time I'm going to be working as I go, which is actually extremely common amongst backpackers in Australia, and not that hard to do. Basically, I feel that I have learnt so much from my experience so far, and It's not the moment to cut that experience short. Staying for longer will be the best thing I can do for myself right now, and although I'm nervous as all hell, I am also really excited.

My plan at the moment is to return to oz and spend a few months back at the arts factory working a REAL job, then when the weather gets a bit nicer I will start doing some trips up the coast. I hope this time around to make it out to more places in oz; ayers rock and the outback, western australia, and maybe I will also spend a few months in Melbourne, the city I loved soo much (my substitute montreal, but with a better climate...)

My last few weeks at the arts factory were pretty great. I continued to do my nightime bus shifts. The last one by far had the be the best, with the drunk guy who could barely walk or talk or recognize his surroundings, but he tried to kiss me and get my phone number anyways. I had to forcibly remove him from the bus!!

Life at the arts factory had started to get more settled in those last few weeks, with fewer drinking binge nights; what there were seemed to be relegated to weekends, almost like normal people. ... scary .... It brought up a whole new set of thoughts and feeling about travelling. I wondered if staying at the AF so long was a sign that I was regressing back into those oh-so-comfortable-&-familiar stable-life patterns. But then I reminded myself that I worked 12hours a week and was living in a tent. ... ... Being able to make REAL friends for a change was really nice, and I know I will really value some of those friendships for a long time, if not forever. However, at moments being around so many people in such a social environment also made me feel more lonely; funny how being surrounded by people can highlight any feelings of distance and alienation you feel in a new/temporary/transient environment.

So, for the moment, and I do stress moment, I'm back in Montreal! Planning the next period of my life. Trying to shelve some aspects of my life of the past before heading out again. Thinking alot about my travel experiences in this new at-home-northern-hemisphere-urban-living light. Sorting out the feelings I have about leaving people behind everywhere I go, and about the people I am leaving behind. Trying to let go of past experiences and move on to new ones. trying to not travel for travel's sake, but travel cause I actually want to, where & when I want to. Packing up my life, literally! Trying to find a way to pack up stuff I'll need for a year - backpack? suitcase? Searching high and lo to find plane tickets galore! Asia? hmm... Dealing with living in my teen-years bedroom in my parent's house. (yay.) And sleeping in till noon, staying up till 3am. (LOVE being jetlagged. Oh yah.)

And since I'm so bored, you might soon be subjected to a post or two about the moderately neurotic post-travel-pre-travel debates raging in my mind.

hugs& kisses to all, I miss you Arts Factory lovelies!

more byron and terrifying times

I may have to re-think this blog; does it still count as a travel blog if you have three or more entries from the same tiny town? Does staying here for so long still count as traveling? I'm gonna say Yes, even if just to reassure myself that I'm not falling back into my entrenched normal-life habits, and an ever present desire to settle down somewhere... hmm... I also maintain that continued hostel-living also gives me 'traveller' status. It's my logic. don't argue.

Also, true to traveller-form, I have continued to push out and past my normal boundaries, trying all kinds of 'terrifying' things.

Terrifying thing #1 - I did a 10m high jump off a cliff into the water at a local 'quarry'. Before jumping, my biggest worry was that I would hit the water at an angle and wind up with a big bruise. And as luck would have it, that's exactly what happened. Despite my sore butt, it was still a blast, and I think almost even better thanks to my 'injury'; ie seeing that my worst-case-scenario fear wasnt such a big deal after all.

Terrifying thing #2 - I performed in the hostel's weekly talent show! Me and another guest named Phil cracked out a version of Joni Mitchell's "Case of you" about two hours before the show started. Neither of us have really performed in front of people before (I maintain that Karaoke doesn't count...) Performing was so much fun, I think I'm a tad addicted to it now, I just might do something next week!!

Since I've spent so much time here in Byron, I decided to start doing a little work-for-accomodation in the form of driving the hostel's nightly shuttle bus. It brings guests into town, and runs every 7 minutes till 4am. The motivation in offering this service, however, has much more to do with reducing complaints from the neighbors about loud, drunken backpackers roaming their streets at 3am, rather than some well thought out business strategy. Of all the accom work, this job is considered one of the best, since you only do it twice a week ( 2 x 6h shift) and it doesn't really take up much usable time (10pm- 4am.) Plus, how many jobs let you crank out your own tunes, mock your 'clients', and have a friend sit with you as you work? I've even taken to photographing people as they stream thru my litte bus-world, helps the time pass, provides some really interesting souvenirs of this job... And a final perk of the job: the snacks I get given from stoners doing 'pie runs' in the middle of the night (aka nipping into town to the all-night bakery for some munchie-induced snacking) I'd have to give the rum ball and hedgehog two thumbs up, and the asperagus-corn-cheese pie is NOT to be missed! .

Which brings me to terrifying thing #3: I have learned to drive a manual! I kid you not, people, it has actually happened. Opportunity presented itself when the automatic bus almost ran out of fuel one night and resulted in a friend offering to teach me on his own van. (he's crazy, I know.) And I'm not kidding when I call this one terrifying: my first reaction was to run screaming. I had a hard enough time learning how to drive in the first place when I was 19; somehow I managed to make turning corners into a huge feat. BUT, a 2 hour lesson later i had almost mastered hill-starts, and then drove the manual bus that night for my 6 hour shift, almost without incident. I only stalled, hmm... 10 times maybe? And almost NO bunny hops. Ok, a few. many. shut up. At least I learned!!

The surf goes on, though my body is giving out bit by bit. Or at least it was until I discovered that occasional breaks from surfing, or a one-on-one-off schedule are more suitable for my extremely out of shape and unathletic self. My surf-induced cuts and grazes have been saved from becoming sea ulcers thanks to some self-maintenance-education from local surfers and chemists. But hey, i've graduated off the softboards, also know as 'boats', and my paddling is improving a hell of alot, so I'm pretty fuckin' happy!

hugs and kisses to all of you from byron, missing you lots.

Transforming from Tourist to Traveller in Byron Bay

So as all trips should, my trip has taken me down some very unexpected roads.

Road number one: I've become stuck in Byron bay.
No, i haven't run out of money, I've just fallen in love with this sleepy/crazyy town, as well as the hostel I'm staying at. I've decided to abandon the obsession with sight seeing and scrap a few of my plans in order to stay here to focus on what really is the best part of travel, meeting people and having totally unexpected experiences thanks to the new friendships you form. And to really cement my status as a short-term long-termer, I've moved into a tent on the hostel's camping area. Yes, I am a bottom-dweller, and proud of it. I'm in a huge, 8 person tent, with one other person, an awesome gal named Sid from LA. It's more like luxury camping - or it would be if it weren't for the fact that it has been raining torrentially for about 5 days STRAIGHT. But other than the unpleasant dampness of all my clothing, Sid and I are staying high and dry. Well, not actually high, contrary to Byron Bay clichés. You know what I mean.

Finally, it seems that Karma has delivered some traveling Tibetan Monks into my lap here at the Arts Factory, a serendipitous addition to this 'spiritual' journey. We'll see what I discover from them over the next few days!

Road number two: Surfing. I'm a complete convert.
I've spent my whole life saying how I'm not an athletic person, I don't like sports, it's just not me. But taking up surfing has changed my mind completely, and that in itself is one of life's real joys. My first lesson was such a blast, and an amazing ego boost. I stunned myself with my ability to actually get up on the board, as well as overcome the fact that I cannot, CANNOT breath out of my nose underwater (people, I have to hold my nose every time I fall off the board. its embarrassing) and live with inhaling ridiculous amounts of seawater every time I take a nose dive. (often.) Anyways. Lessons 2, 3, and 4 were a WHOLE different story. Suddenly I had to actually catch my OWN waves rather than have someone hold onto my board and push me into the wave at the exactly the right moment. I had to figure out timing, learn how and when to paddle into the wave, and discover that my arms are about as strong as two pieces of spaghetti. Basically, learning to surf feels like battling against everything; the waves, the rip, the undertow, the board, and hardest of all, your own physical and mental weaknesses. But after 30 minutes of discouraging struggle, almost on the point of giving up, you finally catch a wave, ride it to shore, and actually manage to steer the board a bit: Hallelujah, you've hit the jackpot of positive emotions. I think the best part has been learning that I can push right through the discouragement, the disappointment, the frustration, the exhaustion, and come out the other end a happy, enthusiastic ball of energy, ready for anything.

On a side note, my tan is coming along miserably. That may have something to do with the fact that I haven't exactly been laying around at the beach, which really is bad for you anyways. But a growing cluster of freckles seems to be gracing my cheeks and nose, and damn it, I like it.

Oh, and last but not least, I just HAVE to brag about this: I won the pub trivia two weeks in a row. (heance the triumphant picture of me with my week one team.) And I had a completely different team each time. Booyah!

Pictures:

Top - the view from my tent.

Middle - tons of byron friends! top to bottum: my trivia team week one, dancing with dan, sam and camilla at coco's, me and jill and cheeky's, and sid and tom hangin out at the hostel.

Bottum - playing scrabble with Sid in the tent. We both crashed at about 10pm right after this game, how sad are we?! Sid won, by the way.

WWOOFing it up in Murwillumbah

Say that 5 times fast. Or even once. I still can't pronounce it.

When I was back in Canada, I decided that WWOOFing would be a great thing to include as part of this travel experience. I've always been curious about the farming lifestyle, and have been getting really sick of my desk job lately. So I figured; no time like the present to see if this life is for me!

Some of you may be asking yourself what WWOOFing is. It's an acronym that stands for "Willing Workers On Organic Farms." To quote the international WWOOF website;

It started in the UK in 1971, and has since become an international movement that is helping people share more sustainable ways of living. WWOOF is an exchange - in return for volunteer help WWOOF hosts offer food, accommodation and opportunities to learn about organic lifestyles. WWOOF organisations link individuals wanting to volunteer on organic farms or smallholdings with people who are looking for volunteer help.

I paid my 60$ to join WWOOF Australia for one year, received my book of australia's WWOOF hosts in the mail 2 weeks later, off I set on my trip with my book in my backpack.

Finding a farm to work on was fairly easy. While in Byron I decided now was the time, so I picked out a few interesting farms from the 'area' to contact. 10 emails later, I was in contact with my Hosts, and a day later was sleeping in the 'WWOOFer' room on their farm!

My hosts are a lovely family of EIGHT! They have 6 children whose ages range between 25 - 10. The farm is basically a self-sustaining operation; they grow veggies and fruit, keep cows, sheep, ducks, geese, turkies, and chickens; all for their own consumption. The only product they market are their Freerange Organic Eggs.

On my first day I was put right to work weeding, hoeing, then planting a new veggie patch. I've never been a gardener, but I must say - looking over the little patch I had taken from rainforest-overgrowth to food-producing-earth made me feel pretty satisfied! Especially the seed planting. One package has SO many seeds, and each tiny little wonder will (theoretically) grow into a large, food producing plant! Amazing.

The afternoon saw me doing some simple woodwork/construction on the Tardis - yes, that Tardis, my Hosts were building as a guest accommodation just beside the main house. I was glad to be of help with that project, and I have come to realize that knowing how to cut freehand curves with a jigsaw isn't the most common skill in the world.

I've also collected eggs from uncooperative chickens, taken a shot at milking the cow - very badly, cleaned out chicken sheds to make fresh compost, weeded, weeded and then weeded some more, made dinner for 10 people - twice - including dessert, done housework and normal chores, and generally learned alot about how the place operates.

One thing that I love here is how nothing is wasted. Once a week a couple family members head out to the local "Brumbys" bakery at closing, and help them empty all the leftover bread into garbage bags. The family picks out and keeps the good stuff for themselves, and the rest becomes chicken / animal feed. Then the animal droppings are made into compost which feeds the veggie patch, and any plate scraps go right back into the cycle as chicken feed. Dried grass and wood-project-shavings become chicken nesting material, and the weeds I pull out of the garden are fed to the cows and rabbits. On top of that the family is very resourceful, making good use of garage-sales to stock their home and workshop.

I also love how productive the family is. The kids are expected to help out, ALOT, every day. In fact, the kids are the ones who make dinner every night. Last sunday I watched a 21 year old girl made a full roast dinner complete with roast lamb, chicken, roasted potatoes and carrots, stuffing-from-scratch, perfect yorkshire puddings, and gravy - and she hardly broke a sweat. The youngest son, a hyperactive boy of 10, makes coffee for his parents in the afternoon every day and brings it out to them on the terrace. The boys help thier dad with various projects, fix the family cars, and do other various chores. There is hardly a spare moment in this house, at least until after dinner at 8pm when they settle in for a bit of TV, reading, or personal time. I find I have lost the patience for TV since I've been here (a miracle!!) I had a day off alone at the house, which I was really looking forwards to, but I wound up doing some cleaning because I was bored and unfocused! I am pretty tired, but a person could get used to this amount of productivity in their life!

All in all, a wonderful experience so far; not really what I expected, as all the best experiences are.

Pictures:
Top Set - the farm, aint it lovely?
Set two - me collecting and weighing eggs to determine thier 'size'
Set Three - The garden I weeded, hoed, and planted (yay!!) then one of the workshop arteas, and the TARDIS
Set Four - Pavlova (yuuum), My first aussie BBQ, and the paella meal I cooked for the family one night.

RELAX: It's Byron Bay

After 3 weeks of travel, all in urban centers, Byron Bay was a pretty drastic change.

Byron Bay is a very small town about 1.5 hours drive south of Brisbane on the "Gold Coast" of Australia, population: 5,609. Add tourists, and the number probably doubles. Okay okay, maybe triples. It is a hugely popular tourist destination, particularly amongst backpackers, probably because it has great beaches, surfing, snorkling and diving, and a disproportionately high number of residents who live 'alternative lifestyles'. Basically, it's a really relaxed and laid back place that transforms into sheer backpacker chaos at night.

My first few days there, I went around the main strip a bunch of times, did some shopping, went to the beach, enjoyed the pool and facilities at the Hostel, went out for dinner, for drinks, for dancing. Then I started to get bored. I wondered if a week was too much for Byron, and I started to feel listless. Then miraculously another few days later, my body and mind must have slowed down to the Byron pace (was it the yoga class I did?) and I didn't feel bored, I just felt happy. I had learned to ride the Byron Wave, go with the flow, enjoy the sun and waves, and not really plan anything. A great feeling! Mind you, it explains why so many people get to Byron, and then don't get any further....

My Hostel, the Arts Factory Lodge, is what a hippy commune would look like if it were conceived of as a business. They clearly target an 'alternative' clientele, with accommodation choices that include a 10 person teepee, a double decker bus, lagoon-side-'cabins', and a camping area where you can pitch your tent. The Buddah Bar offers music/drinks/food every night, and the on-site movie theatre has blacklights and couches instead of seats. Every morning the volleyball court becomes a Staff-Poi lesson area, and you can also take didgeridoo lessons. At all times, the parking lot is FILLED with camper-vans. This place is quintessential Byron Bay, and once you've slowed down enough to enjoy it, it's a blast.

But, Byron is a backpacker haven, which means it really caters to backpackers and tourists. The main strip, which you can walk the length of in about 10 minutes, has a disproportionate number of travel shops (each with someone outside trying to lull you in with offers of free internet.) There are surf shops where tourists can buy their first pair of boarding shorts, clothing stores selling a huge variety of batik dresses and thai-fisherman-pants, pharmacies for a cheap bottle of water, pie shops for a midday or late night snack, and many bars and clubs.

Curious thing about the nightlife: at midnight most of the bars basically close, and your choice of venue is reduced to three places that are open till 3. In order from most to least classy: LaLaLand, Coocamungas, and Cheeky Monkeys, the last of the three being renowned for the weekly wet tshirt contest, and the 'dancing on the tables' (more like table-shaped steel stages) that takes place within. Sigh. Really cheesy, but hey - its good for a fun time. Except, the bouncers are power-tripping assholes. But hey, what else is new?

Finally, I've officially started abandoning some of my belongings. Meh, that top wasn't very flattering anyways.


Discoveries...

- do YOU know what an esky is?

- Sea kayaking is a blast, and also a dangerous weapon when 'catching a wave'.

- Surfing is SO MUCH FUN! And it's not nearly as hard to stand up on the board as you think it is. Especially with the giant foam boards you learn on.

- Food may be expensive, but the cost of organic food is almost prohibitive!

- You can sing any song to a standard reggae tune.

- Goannas are pretty big, and kinda scary, but basically harmless.

- Night swimming is lovely. But dangerous, apparently. Don't try it at home, kids.

- "Into the wild" is a great movie, and an ever better one if you are traveling or are looking for inspiration to travel.

- Too many sleepless nights WILL catch up with you eventually. *cough cough HACK*

- I can talk to other Canadians more easily than to people from other places in the world. I guess we really do have some common traits...