Start of 2014

Two and half weeks into the ‘Winter Semester’ and straight into life once more.  We had a gentle re-introduction into the weather with a nice minus five degrees.  Or it was just us being lulled into a false sense of security as this week the Canadian winter returned once more with the experience of the frozen nostrils and headaches.  I just feel sorry for the guys walking around with frozen beards and moustaches.  I’d never really taken seriously the warnings about frostbite before.  Oh no, such potential was definitely felt.

My luggage arrived from who-knows-where just in time for a fraternity ball on the first Saturday back.  Actually taking time to get dressed, get made up and an excuse to tame that ‘fro into something socially acceptable was a rare and welcomed experience.  Wearing heels for the first time in months instead of just my standard snow boots and a full length dress rather than leggings was just excellent (although my walking in the heels probably left much to be desired after such lack of practice).  The above plus a three course dinner was an oh-so-casual start to the semester indeed...

A week later and my attire altered slightly into oh so sexy and flattering ski gear, wearing half my Christmas presents of thermals and ski socks.  ‘Snowbutter’ was the name of the weekend trip to the favourite place of Mont Tremblant.  Tons of students from across North America, lots of drinking, quite a bit of hanging, some hot-tub timing with skiing now and then amongst all that, meant an epic weekend and renewed appreciation of the snow out here.  Oh so there is a reason for it... The state of our hotel room after just 48 hours was rather unbelievable.  Who knew girls could be so messy?  Made best friends with the bouncers of the Après Ski bar (naturally).  Dared the cold by running to the club in just a strap-top (why not).  Actually drank more than one can of beer (first time in my life) during the copious games of ‘Flipcup’ (even got a ‘one flip’ a number of times shockingly).  However, living off bagels, packet noodles and wine for the three days meant needing the whole next week to recover came as no surprise. 

This term a couple of us Internationals have signed up for Intramural Dodgeball. Anyone who has seen my throwing and catching skills will have guessed that those genes don’t run in the Pike family in the slightest.  I can’t really catch the ball to get people out or hit people to get them out, so my game plan is to just bounce around, avoid being hit and somehow stay in.  The pain I felt in my throwing arm the next day proved to be that throwing is just not a natural action for this girl... But who knows, miracles could happen.

Continuing the theme of sport, the annual event of ‘Capital Hoops’ occurred this week where the Carleton Ravens basketball team took on our ultimate rivals from the other university in Ottawa, the Gee-Gees. Yeah. What even are those?  Apparently it’s the first horse out the gate.  Not even the winning horse.  And indeed they lived up to that name by losing in front of an overwhelmingly red and black, Carleton supporting, screaming crowd.  We are number one in Canada so not exactly a shocker.  School spirit at an all time high.  Facepaint and chants in abundance.

My final and most recent excursion was back once more the city of Montreal to visit a friend with whom our friendship has covered Costa Rica, England and Canada.  The trip was a slightly difference experience from the beautiful summer weekend of September with the city covered in snow and ice. Such a chilled weekend of roaming, eating and shopping (buying a bikini for our Spring Break trip to Cuba felt just slightly at odds with the weather outside).  Walks in the snow have become one of my favourite things out here so couple that with a hill, a gorgeous blue sky and a panoramic view of Montreal and it was not a bad time at all.     Basically some ideal weekends.  

The 'Polar Vortex' Voyage

Travelling is a rather strange experience if you think about it.  You become part of a bubble.  The real world and your real life pause.  The only people you communicate with are total strangers.  Your focus and ambition in life is getting from one place to the other.  Something that can be to next to impossible as I found out this week.  A journey that only has to take 7 or 8 hours was enhanced, embellished and elongated until it was actually 72 hours later that the final destination became a reality rather than a far off dream. 

Airport.  A word I now hate. Along with border control (having been through it practically a hundred times), baggage (having lost mine somewhere in the ‘polar vortex’), boarding pass (having racked up an impressive collection of now just empty promises) and the dreaded word of ‘delayed’ highlighted red on the board (you know that hour by hour the delay time will increase until suddenly, ‘cancelled’ flashes up.  Hope once more crushed into the frozen ground that is currently North America). 

72 hours ago I was rather excited to be returning to the land of snow and ice.  That excitement has evolved into frustration, anger, tears to pure numbness.  That 24 hour wait I had for my journey home at Christmas was nothing compared to four airports, two nights stranded in cities which weren’t even on my original journey plan, sitting on planes multiple times waiting to leave to be told we have to return to the terminal once more.  It’s the expectation that this time shall be the time we get lift off.  Everyone has their own horror story.  Though not going to lie, I did have to bite my tongue multiple times when I heard people complaining about having been waiting in the airport for 12 hours.  That, my friend, is nothing.  Trust me and the guy on his way back from Malaysia.  Though one plus is that unlike not wanting to miss Christmas two weeks ago, the only thing I’m missing is introductory lectures which I probably would have skived anyway.  And it does slightly put life into perspective.  All I really suffered were uncomfortable seats, a lack of sleep and a touch of mental anguish.  Nothing if you really think about it.

I’ve met a range of people along the way.  You’ve got those bitching about every little thing, trying to place the blame on anything and everything.  All they are doing is making everyone else around them more pissed off than they were before.  Helpful.  Then there are those who take out their anger and frustration on the nearest person wearing a uniform.  Because they were obviously the person who chose to shut down the whole of Toronto airport right and personally caused you to be stuck on the ground, right? Sure. There’s the teenage girl sat in the corner with tear stained cheeks.  The parents trying to entertain two 5 year old girls for hours upon end, drawing other passengers into the mix (impressive job indeed).  The restaurant manager, just glancing at my face and its expression, giving me a free drink of coke even though I didn’t have enough money. The woman with her pet dog which had the power only animals and babies hold to put a smile on people’s faces which were ones of thunder just moments before.  Then those to whom you say a random comment to or ask a question about which gate to be at and suddenly you’re just chatting away like you’ve known them for years.  They are the people who help you forget that you’re on your own and life is pretty crap and just dull dull dull. 

My holiday at home is a distant memory.  Even English accents are already foreign to me.  I feel like I should have done something momentous during this epic ‘adventure’.  Rather I’ve just read over about a thousand pages of Games of Thrones and literally just sat.  

And all of this sounding like I’m actually home.  Oh no. Abandoned the airport after losing all hope in the air by means of transport after 24 hours of 5 cancelled flights to go back to basics: four wheels on the ground.  Good old Greyhound.  Only 5 hours of icy road separating me from my bed.  Though this is me however, so I’m expecting the bus to not arrive/break down half way in the snow/or simply look at me and decide not to take me as I’ll surely bring a curse upon the journey.

Nevertheless, I refuse to think that this disgraceful start to the term is a sign of things to come.  It better not be anyway...

First Snow of Winter

After mutterings of an approaching ‘snow storm’, the rumours materialised and last week the world of Carleton and Ottawa was buried overnight.  So a foot of snow here isn’t exactly much (only the beginning, they all say.  Just wait for the freezing rain) but at home it would be the most we would get in a year and even then it would be gone in a week (its staying strong here and I feel like I’m not going to see any colour other than white and grey for ever.  Green grass? What even is that...).  If England had been hit by what we’ve had over here, there would be chaos.  A similar amount fell at home a few years ago and the world seemed to stop turning (prevented from returning home for a good three days sums up how well England can deal with any kind of weather other than fifteen degrees and drizzling rain).  Here however, life continues as normal; except everyone is now wearing real sexy winter boots and is bundled up in massive coats with woolly hats (or a toque as they say out here) worn everywhere, even in lectures and in the caf.  Necessary indeed.

No dramatic falls (yet) but some rather close calls and unexpected steps into snow about three times deeper than expected (cue frozen numb ankles and pretending in front of the mass of people waiting for the bus that I totally meant to do that, whilst trying to scoop the snow out of my boot and basically crying inside - frozen tears of course.)

To fully appreciate this arrival of winter my weekend was filled with snow-related activities. Saturday had me hiking through Thousand Islands National Park for the day.  Was a casual minus twenty degrees.  It actually wasn’t too bad until you stopped (and even then we had a spontaneous fire started. As you do)  Indeed, the journey there was actually colder on a rickety school bus with metal sides...not ideal having the window seat.  But overall, a nice little excursion out of the grey jungle that is Carleton. 

Sunday meant first ski of the season. And I’m still alive!  Excellent (and surprising) stuff.  I thankfully hadn’t forgotten what I had learnt earlier this year and it even took until my third run to actually fall over.  Achievement.  No catastrophic disasters either other than having a 5 year old boy ask if I was okay when I’d fallen over.  Less than half my height, a quarter my age and ten times as good as me.  Great.  The ski resort we go to is Mont Tremblant in Québec and it is as picturesque as you can get.  Cute little fairy lights everywhere, beaver tail cafes and cosy bars means that skiing is not going to be the only entertainment when we go (Après Ski anyone?).  Anyway, the plan is now to go most weekends if possible to make the most of my ski pass and kit.  Might actually get to an acceptable level by the end of the year out here...  

Final week of assignments then just exam period for the next two weeks.  Oh joys.  My advent calendar sent from home – thanks parents – has the combined role of counting down to Christmas and my flight home (the excitement over receiving an advent calendar will never diminish no matter how old one gets, particularly when it has survived its journey across the Atlantic).  Until then, essays, exams but with more skiing and internationals Secret Santa to look forward to.d seemed to stopped turning (prevented from returning home for a good three days).  Here however, life continues as normal. 

The 'real' Capital City

You know you’re acclimatising to life out here when you get overexcited at it being 0 degrees rather than minus 9 (practically the return of summer).  The joy of a day when your face and brain don't actually freeze while battling the wind tearing through campus.  However, I am now fully equipped up with a proper winter coat (coat envy is definitely a thing out here.  £1145 was just slightly out of my price range, though it was a thing of utter beauty and I’ll be hating on anyone with it).  Snow boots have also been purchased.  Designed to keep my toes toasty until minus 32.  Good but that's just a slightly depressing thought...

However, on a positive note a ski season pass has been purchased (for the equivalent of £220 which is just a little bit great).  So the plan is to return home an absolute pro skier, breaking no bones, reducing the number of slopes which I slide down on my face and not falling off any mountain somewhere. 

More winter related activities have included going to see my first ice hockey game.  Loved it.  Total new convert to the sport.  Team4life = Ottawa Senators.  Always a good introduction to the sport when your team wins.  Just a lot of shoving and fights really, with one guy being smashed in the face by the puck.  The ‘sin bin’ is just hilarious, the players being put in there for a few minutes if they misbehave.  Naughty. Classic Brits getting lairy and nearly starting a fight with the opposing team (they were French Canadians so it’s not exactly surprising).  Subsequently, another aim of the year is to come back knowing all the players, having my personal favourite and owning at least one item of Sens fan kit (actually understanding the rules may just be an incidental consequence).

Travels in the last few weeks have taken me what has been referred to as the New York of Canada. (Another of those place which people always assume is that country's capital - New York, Sydney, Rio de Janeiro etc).  Anyway, I am a fan.  It’s very different from Ottawa so was a refreshing change.  Also it seems like pretty much everyone at Carleton is from 'near Toronto' (basically 5 hours away is near here) - The 'GTA' to those in the know - 'Greater Toronto Area' - So it obviously had to be visited.  Full of skyscrapers and just the classic city buzz.  With that naturally came a mix of very interesting people but what can you do (cross the road to escape pretty much).  Our three day mini-break started with having a gorgeous Thai curry (something which the Caf here does not do to my sadness), delicious crepes, ending up in a random bar place with live music (the punk/rock style was a little different to my usual kind of place and taste but all about new experiences...). 

As with all city visits, the amount of walking we did was impressive (in my mind at least).  The ‘hip’ Kensington market had to be ticked off.  However I think we went too early so all we really saw was closed shops and a lot of homeless people and had a random man following us on a bike singing/shouting out Top 40 classics.  Envy was felt towards the University of Toronto campus.  Buildings that were built before the architecture disaster that was the 1970s and don’t hurt my eyes?  Something of dreams (The memories of Oxford’s spires seem oh so far away out here). 

Yonge and Dundas Square = a Times Square wannabe. But St Lawrence food market (apparently one of the world’s best) was a delight.  We got chatting to an English lady and pretty much everyone can talk about here is the cold.  All about the face mask to survive apparently. Excellent.  Anyhow, a little ferry trip later and we were on Toronto Island gazing at the city’s iconic skyline (after a session of skimming stones on the beach. Natch).  Probably the highlight of the trip watching it all light up. Classic tourist life.

Overall a great weekend with Sunday spent eating more crepes and then moving onto the nachos in a sports bar, listening to die-hard fans prepping (i.e. drinking up) for some Canadian football game (awful game, just saying).  Finally, a glimpse of the ‘Santa Claus Parade’.  Cue  marching bands and good old Mr Santa Ho-ho-ing everywhere, with lots of excitable little children walking just everywhere, getting all up in my path (I’m the one with the suitcase. Move. Please otherwise I will trip you up... See? I did tell you...).  The whole thing was so North American...

Gradually colouring the map in and this week getting my Carleton Raven’s spirit going again (oh the return to the Frosh week joys...) with seeing the school’s basketball match and who knows what else.

Practically Canadian

Four days in the Canadian wild, in sub-zero temperatures, with warnings of attracting bears if one wore deodorant.  Most definitely one of my highlights, if not at the top of the list. 

The scenery was just classic Canada.  Lakes, trees, campfires and even snow.  Stunning.  I had expected a hardcore couple of days, up early, paddling until dusk.  However, we were pleasantly surprised by a lie past 10am the first day and the whole trip turned out to be far more chilled which was appreciated! (It was only students doing it so that makes sense really).

The main negative aspect of the trip was the fact I felt like I had lost my toes for four days.  And waking up with ice in the tent and frozen water bottles made a change from the overheated bedrooms and corridors back at university.  My woolly hat never left my head and there were at least 4 layers constantly worn (increasing to about 7 one of the nights).  Furthermore, I have never experienced such exceptional spooning.  Five girls in a tent, the middle person crushed by those either side squishing in to escape the icy walls, every so often a group shift and turn to numb the alternative leg.  Cosy.

In regards to the canoeing, on the first day we were against the current with strong winds and waves blowing against us, resulting in slight concerns about coping with the next 3 days.  However, someone decided they liked us so we then got sunshine, blue skies and calm waters, i.e. we were just loving life. So we paddled most of the day, had a portage or two (i.e. carrying the canoes and bags practically the size of us. Great fun...), then set up camp at a picturesque site, taking about 6 attempts to build the tent, collecting wood (or whole trees in the case of some people), then feasting on a delight of food.  We did become slightly animalistic in regards to the eating but hey, what can you do.  (And having expected boring, plain camping food, getting American pancakes, bacon and eggs, bagels, brownies and cookie dough who can blame us?  There was the point we were literally scooping sugar out of the jar and eating it which was just plain classy.) 

So absolutely gorgeous campsites, generally on little islands, with a fire pit and views all around.  There were about 25 of us on the trip all from Carleton, divided into three groups with whom we cooked and slept.  Star gazing, games of mafia, fireball and marshmallow roasting was the evening entertainment.  On the last night we were serenaded the Canadian national anthem.  Pretty epic.  We also had an award ceremony.  I ended up with the prize for ‘Queen of Sass’.  Shocking that.  Only took four days to realise that of me... (not sure how to feel about the fact I’ve been called ‘sassy’ within minutes of meeting people here.  I thought it was just being sarcastic but perhaps this is the Canadian take on it? Who knows.)

Anyways, I’ve never felt so Canadian in my life.  I’ve also never said ‘eh’ so much at the end of every sentence before.  My room still smells of campfire smoke.  My poor wind-burnt nose is still recovering.  However, the feet have defrosted so that’s just lovely.  (Though not seeing a bear or beaver was slightly heartbreaking.  In the four days I saw a bird (a ‘loon’) and an otter or some of creature like that.  Not exactly overwhelming but we were probably enough wildlife to deal with).

And Halloween has also been experienced here.  People literally said ‘Happy Halloween’ to each other at the cafe, with some dedicated customers having dressed up for the day.  A host of costumes were witnessed (some slightly more disturbing than others...) and a ton of glitter was used (terrifying stuff I know).  

So I think this marks my halfway point in my first term out.  Just mental.  Not too sure what more trips and excursions are going to occur, but all I know is that my ski jacket is not going to be warm enough for what is to come.  Goodie.

  

Water, Wishes and Winter

Having visited Victoria Falls when I was younger, its competition had to be checked out whilst I was within the vicinity.  Niagara Falls.

Well.  Lots of water.  Lots of grey.  Lots of blue ponchos.  Not quite as high or as impressive as its African counterpart.  However, obviously it is quite a sight and made a change from the slow moving, smooth canal of Ottawa. 

As to the town of Niagara Falls.  No need to be going to that place again... Looming hotels.  Tacky arcades.  Casinos.  Not quite my thing.  Also, the fact that the Falls were lit up at night was just bizarre.  Indeed, it made a rather nice sight from the luxurious double queen bed hotel room we were staying in.  Yet, it’s a natural wonder and pretty impressive on its own.  No need to try (and fail) to make it into a Las Vegas of some sort.

Nevertheless, it had to be done and the Falls themselves were a beauty (particularly once the sun came out and you could actually distinguish between the water, the mist and the sky which was appreciated...).  

Oh and while we were on our trip there, it seemed like an obvious and logical time to visit Hooters.  Interesting...  Don't think it would be my first choice of establishment to work at (naturally, its only just because their uniform of orange that would do just nothing for my complexion.  Wouldn't mind a pair of their great, big white and woolly socks though).  But anyhow, another 'experience' ticked off that list of mine.

Also, I have purchased my first set of ice skates!  None of the pretty white ones, oh no.  Hardcore ice-hockey ones.  Not sure my talent will match them though.  But the free campus ice-rink is to be visited and I’ll test whether those lessons from when I was nine have left me with any skills of some kind.  (doubtful to say the least)

And Halloween is fast approaching and don’t we know it.  It’s pretty much like another Christmas out here.  Decorations are going up.  Good old Timmy Hortons has its Halloween themed doughnuts.  Apparently, one outfit is not enough as the partying supposedly continues all weekend. (debatable with about three deadlines two days later).  However, the epic place of ‘Value Village’ (think a charity shop version of TK Maxx. Overwhelming) was visited, full-on Disney princess ball dresses tried on (childhood wish realised.  Come-at-me Snow White's Evil Stepmother kind of thing), and a child’s butterfly costume complete with hood was purchased.  Going to be the best Halloween ever...

But it has finally started.  Winter.  People said this would happen by Halloween.  Pretty much glove and scarf weather (i.e. as bad as England gets but this is only the start out here).  The thermometer is saying hello to zero.  Excellent.  Oh and I’ve decided to go camping for four days.  In the snow (no joke).  Should be interesting.  And if I happen to accidentally fall in while canoeing on this trip, it shall make the whole thing that little bit more of an adventure I’m certain... Hoping to survive with all fingers and toes intact.

Plaid and Pumpkin Pie

My first Canadian Thanksgiving. Tick. (One may tick that box twice to be precise actually).  Kind of felt like Christmas. Except without roast potatoes (the alternative offer of mashed instead), bread sauce (the pièce de résistance), presents, a tree and my own family. 

What I find just brilliant about the whole thing is that no one is really sure why they celebrate it out here.  The Americans go on about the pilgrims and all that.  Here, its ‘umm the harvest maybe?’, ‘Another holiday?’ or just the honest thing of ‘any excuse to eat turkey and lots of food?’ (The last reason being my personal favourite).  And indeed a lot of food was eaten.  Pumpkin pie was tried for the first time – I am a fan.

So one of the trips had me seeing saw more of the Canadian countryside than ever before.  And it was great.  To me, the wide and rippling lake, the rust and ochre coloured leaves, and the setting sun were pretty much divine.  Couple that with being surrounded by Canadians all night, a constant country music playlist and ‘plaid’ (that’s checked to you and me) shirts was rather hilarious and an experience to say the least.  I’ve never really been able to notice what makes a Canadian accent different to that of the Americans... this weekend that all changed.  I heard it.  It definitely exists. (One step closer to discovering the real Canada...)

In other news, I am now a member of Carleton’s Glee Club.  I went there.  Is it like the show? I hear you cry out.  Umm well, we sing and apparently have routines to perform with them, so interpret that as you will... My other thanksgiving was a friend from Glee but this time with an Italian twist.  Being in a proper home and surrounded by a big family again was a bit of an ‘ohhh where are mine..?’ moment.  Nevertheless, it made a delightful change from the student bubble and my one concrete-walled corridor and single room.

I feel like Canada is being discovered inch by inch.  The Ottawa Valleys, done.  This coming weekend Niagara Falls shall next be conquered.  The week after, exploring the Algonquin Park by canoe.  In the meantime, Carleton is a big fan of setting constant essays and assignments so that shall be my entertainment between adventures.