21
Jul 14

Challenge #7: Find A Truly Dog-Friendly Break in BC

fred2“Come to Vancouver! It’s so dog-friendly!” they said. And yes, looking at the maps with all the amazing parks and beaches sure, it looks like a pooch’s dream. But the reality is that for a dog owner used to British rules and regulations, life here in Vancouver is pretty tough. I can’t take Freddie on a bus, in a pub, into any shops, restaurants or cafes – and most baffling of all, you can’t even take your dog in a beer garden. No – not even if they lie quietly under your chair. You have to tie them to the fencing outside so they are on the street. We love the parks and beaches but it’s no place for a dog-friendly holiday.

But Whistler seems to be a different beast altogether. Many of the patios (what Canadians call any outdoor space attached to a bar or restaurant) in Whistler Village are on public walkways so your dog can curl up (legally) next to you and, of course there is all that dazzling wild nature of the Pacific North West mountains and lakes to explore and tire those paws out so they snooze while you eat and booze. So: the challenge this month -  is it possible to have a fun few days with my dog on a mountain break? Or will I be dining off gas station sandwiches in a  car park? I planned to try two kind of breaks – the smarter side and more causal to see if everyone could be happy and actually, it amazed me just how well it all worked out.

fred3So – first check-in was at the Fairmont Chateau Whistler. I figured that if a hotel has Canine Ambassadors then you can be fairly sure that they’ll be dog friendly too. In line with most hotels over here, they charge a cleaning fee of $50 a night capped at $150. When we got to our room there was a special welcome pack waiting for us; a smart lead, a guide to all the dog-friendly places in Whistler and beyond, a pack of treats, poo bags and an absurdly comfy bed. As you can see – Fred was a fan, and after that welcome, so was I.

I miss going to pubs with my dog but it felt like almost everywhere in Whistler Village was perfectly pet friendly. After Freddie had given every single inch of our room a good sniff, we went for a stroll. I stopped off for happy hour at The Mix By Ric’s and sat outside in the sunshine, happily sucking on a tall gin-spiked cocktail as Fred curled up underneath my chair. Normal in the UK yes, but the very first time I’ve done it for almost two years thanks to the laws in BC.

fred4I was on my way to check out dinner at The Grill and Vine at the Westin who’d suggested that I could sit at their patio on the back, attached to the FireRock Lounge restaurant. It was actually kind of perfect; everyone else was on the front deck so we had the place to ourselves. I sat warmed by the dying rays of sunshine; just me, my book and dog. I sipped on a glass of Tinhorn Creek rosé, feeling utterly content. After a full day of exploring the trails as we’d stopped off for a long walk around Shannon Falls along the way up from Vancouver, and so many new sights and smells, Freddie was flat-out. I’d heard sad news that week from a friend whose dog had died after 17 very happy years as her companion, so I cherished that feeling of Fredde’s warm, soft muzzle resting on my foot more than ever.

As he snored under the table, I had a creamy burrata salad, dotted with wobbly cubes of peppery jelly and tomatoes tasting of sunshine, then a crunchy quail with waffles drizzled with a sweet maple dressing. It was almost two hours before Fred roused himself by which time I’d had another few glasses and watched the sun sink behind the mountains before enjoying a peaceful walk back to the hotel.

fred5To my delight there was not one woof or whine from Fred all night. He slept like only a tired dog can on a plump and comfy cushion. I’d checked out the guide and just beyond the Fairmont is one of Whistler’s most lovely trails; Lost Lake, perfect for a pre-breakfast walk and there is even an off-leash beach along the way. We explored the trails there for a few hours to work up an appetite for breakfast.

fred9Right next to the Chateau is their Portobello cafe, where you can get really good coffee (oh, thank you!), huge breakfast sandwiches and heaped portions of yoghurt, fruit and granola. Whistler is packed with outdoors-y people who never seem to stop hiking, biking and boarding – and man, they need to carb up! You can sit outside and people-watch while you eat, with your dog happily snoozing, post-walk, at your feet.

fred6I’d been loaned a Ford Fusion Energi for the week, so decided to make the most of it by driving up to Pemberton, around half an hour away from Whistler. It’s a stunning drive; the Sea To Sky Highway is a jaw-clanging route at the best of times but with the misty rainclouds capping the peaks, shot through with occasional shafts of golden sun it was even more lovely than usual. We stopped at One Mile Lake along the way and walked around the dog-friendly off-leash boardwalk. The lake was dotted with waterlilies and the tree branches overhanging the path were thick with glossy leaves. We sat under them for a while, taking shelter, listening to the pitter-patter of rain and watching the clouds scud past the peaks.

fred7We had lunch at The Pony, there’s a shady dog-friendly place out the back with a rail where horses are usually tethered. Today it was a tuckered out cocker spaniel who slept while I laid waste to a ridiculously good poutine and fantastically garlic-y caesar salad.

Casual dining with a dog seemed easy enough to achieve in Whistler but what about something more up-market? Incredibly, that’s a yes too. I met a girlfriend for the oyster specials at Araxi on their spacious patio where, if you pick your seat, you can tie your dog next to you and still keep things perfectly within the law. Araxi is one of BC’s best restaurants and to be able to sit there and enjoy their wonderful hospitality without worrying about my dog was a rare and happy treat.

fred12I’m always pretty sad to check out of a Fairmont, but this time I didn’t pout too much as at least the break wasn’t over. I’d be swapping the luxe grandeur of Chateau Whistler for something a little more rustic – a cabin in the woods at Sunwolf in Brackendale. I’d visited Jess and Jake before when I went to spot eagles on a rafting trip in the winter, but summer in Squamish is quite different. I’d noticed in Whistler the rushing water sound wherever I went. All that snow has to go somewhere, of course, and the rivers and brooks become gushing torrents in the summertime. Sunwolf is based on the Cheakamus river, which had become a racing and rushing body of water; there is something profoundly soothing about being surrounded by vivid green with the sound of the forest and water all around and after checking in to my cabin I felt myself slip into an even deeper gear of relaxation.

fred10I’d got one thing wrong though; I’d expected the cabins to be rustic but they were far from that! Mine had a bathroom that wouldn’t have been out of place in a boutique hotel, plus a comfy couch, a wood-burning stove, basic but well-equipped kitchen and best of all – a lovely little bedroom, tucked away in the eaves upstairs. I lay on the bed and looked around, every window looked out on to the trees.

We went for a walk along the river, with Fred sniffing excitedly at everything along the way. He’s usually a fairly highly-strung dog but after a couple of days enjoying all that Whistler had to offer he was clearly loving Sunwolf too. He kept beaming at me, his tail a blur, as he sprang across the rocks and darted through the trees, utterly in doggie heaven.

fred11We could have cooked in the cabin or used the communal barbecue, but owners Jess and Jake invited us over for a table-bangingly delicious steak dinner. I slept soundly that night, lulled to sleep by so much mountain air and the sound of the river just beyond my windows. Waking to the sight of green, green trees the next day and finding Freddie snoring happily away on his blanket downstairs I plotted how I could come back again soon.

Thanks to the Fairmont Chateau Whistler and Sunwolf for providing accommodation for me and to the Grill and Vine and Araxi for dinner. Also, massive thank you to Ford for loaning me a Fusion Energi hybrid car which runs quite happily on both petrol and electric. Pleasingly quiet and impressively thrifty, the whole journey – some 300km – was done on $37 of petrol, which works out to around 20 quid! You don’t need to have a special charging station as the car has its own set of plugs that you can attach to any plug – and yes, Sunwolf had one outside the cabin for me to use.  As always, my words are 100% my own.

Further Info:

Fairmont Chateau Whistler [Official Site]

Sunwolf [Official Site]

Tourism Whistler [Official Site]


02
Jul 14

Challenge #6: Eat at a Top Chef Canada Winner’s Restaurant

dale1Eat at a Top Chef Canada Restaurant? Er, challenge accepted. Tucking into an award-winning chef’s delicious menu is definitely more my speed than hurtling down a mountain – or even skating down a canal. For non-Canadians, Chef Dale MacKay won the first season of Top Chef Canada in 2011, when he was based here in Vancouver but last year he decided to up sticks and move back to his hometown of Saskatoon to open Ayden Kitchen & Bar. So while I was visiting the city to merrily stuff myself with sausages at the King of Kovbasa festival, a trip to Ayden was clearly on the cards.

dale2It makes total sense as a restaurateur to leave BC: Vancouver real estate is amongst the most expensive in North America and the space that Dale has in Saskatoon could easily fit a trio of Vancouver eateries inside; a lavish private dining space plus a cavernous basement area to prep and store. Also, whereas restaurants serving on-trend high-end comfort food with a nose-to-tail, house-made aesthetic paired with craft cocktails are a dime a dozen in Vancouver, they are something more of a rare beast in Saskatchewan.

dale3I visited for lunch and dinner service and both times, the restaurant was hopping; a lively business lunch and catch-up-over-salads crowd gave way to couples and groups of clearly delighted dinner guests. So – what’s on the menu? Mackay is known – and rightly so – for his charcuterie; firm meaty pates, satin-soft creamy parfaits, fat-speckled and peppery salamis and juicy sausages were all sublime. In-house pickled vegetables added tartness and tang to his meaty charcuterie boards. Mackay has a deft touch with Asian flavours too, his Thai wings popped with chili but were beautifully balanced and aromatic with kaffir lime and lemongrass. Meat is locally-sourced and if the burgers I tried are anything to go by then Alberta beef need to watch out – Saskatchewan is coming for you. In a city that’s not yet known for its dining scene, Mackay is leading the charge. And where one successful restaurant opens, another – and then another – cannot be far behind. And at the end of the day, if a Top Chef Canada winner is making it work then there’s good eating to be found in the prairies.

My trip was made possible by support from Tourism Saskatoon, but – as ever – my words are 100% my own.

. Further information: Tourism Saskatoon

. Ayden Kitchen and Bar

 


23
Jun 14

Nordik Spa-Nature Aufguss Ritual: ‘Pagan, Wild and Incredibly Thrilling’

spa1For a spa-fiend like myself, the joy of discovering a new ‘spa toy’ is a rare and wonderful thing; so you can imagine what a bundle of glee I was at Gatineau’s Nordik Spa-Nature when I found not just one but three things I’d never experienced before. Nordik Spa-Nature is the largest spa in North America, boasting 7 outdoor baths, 8 saunas and an infinity pool set across three separate areas of beautifully landscaped gardens surrounded by soaring trees. I visited on a Friday afternoon in winter and even though the spa was busy with groups of girlfriends and blissed-out couples, it never felt crowded. So! New spa toys: the first thing I spotted which I’d never seen before were heated hammocks. It was snowing the day I was at the spa and, of course, Nordic-style spa-ing means bouncing between heated pools or saunas then taking icy plunges before relaxing. The hammocks were lined with a Neoprene-like material which seemed to wick away moisture from my wet swimsuit and the heater was phenomenally effective. Climb in, zip up to almost over your head and then wiggle your hips to encourage a spot of swaying and you’re in heaven. To be able to lie all snug and toasty-warm in a hammock in a sopping wet cozzie and not feel cold or wet, while watching snow fall was a truly magical experience. spa3I’d read a little about the Källa treatment before I visited. It’s essentially a huge communal float-tank in what they say is only the second salt-water floating pool in the world. Silence is required on entry; you go downstairs to a low-ceiling blue- lit room with flickering candlelight. You’re told to lie down on a lounger and slip on the headphones, handily positioned by each bed, to listen to instructions. I really enjoyed the sense of mystery and not knowing what to expect. I was told to shower before and afterwards, avoid rubbing my eyes in the pool and to move carefully to avoid splashing others. The water – a 12% blend of Epsom salts heated to 95/96 degrees – gives you an incredible buoyancy. I carefully waded in, lay back in the shallow pool (you can easily sit up) with my ears underwater. Initially thoughts raced through my head and I found it impossible to switch off, but the subtly-insistent effect of the mesmerising music playing from the underwater speakers along with the womb-like warmth of the pool and the muscle-melting effect of floating meant that the next thing I knew, I was waking up. Floating gently in the water so utterly relaxing that I’d actually fallen asleep. The best thing? It was only a $40 add on. spa2The final surprise was the Aufguss sauna ritual, I’d been told when I arrived to listen out for the gong and if I wanted to participate, to make my way immediately to the largest sauna. The ritual is performed four times daily so I timed my departure around the 5p.m. event so that it would be the last thing I did before I left. Spa-goers gathered in the sauna and were told to sit on the lower levels if we didn’t want to experience too intense a level of heat. If we needed to go out, we could go – but not come back. The Aufguss master came in with a basket of snowballs which had been sprinkled with essential oils. He spoke to us briefly in French and English to explain the ritual and then the door closed and music began – extracts from the stirring classic Carmina Burrana. The Aufguss master smashed the snowballs onto the heated sauna stones and then, as the steam rose, he whirled and snapped a towel around to fan us with the instantly-super-hot air. It felt pagan and wild and incredibly thrilling. I went from pleasantly warm to dripping with sweat in a few minutes. The music swooped and fell, the towel dancing around above our heads and the intense heat all combined to create a genuinely new and exciting kind of sauna treatment. At the end we all clapped, the doors were flung open and we cooled down in a cold plunge pool outside. I left feeling fantastic. Thoroughly energised, completely relaxed and so delighted to have discovered these new spa experiences. If you’re visiting Ottawa, just hail a cab to cross province borders into Quebec (just a fifteen minute drive) to check out this brilliantly well-planned gem of a spa in Gatineau Park.

I travelled as a guest of Ottawa Tourism – but as ever – my words are 100% my own.

Info:

Ottawa Tourism [Official Site]

. Nordik Spa-Nature [Official Site]


16
May 14

Challenge #5: Float in Canada’s Dead Sea

Because if someone tells you that ‘Canada’s Dead Sea’ is a few hours drive away, well, you just get in a car, right?

manitou_opt-2

I’ve been a little obsessed with Manitou Springs ever since I first read about it, it’s a rarity; there are only three lakes in the world that have this particular chemical composition and the others are in Israel and the Czech Republic, but Manitou Lake is right here in Canada. There are 27 different kinds of mineral salts in the water; it’s particularly high in magnesium and sulphate and what all these naturally-occurring chemicals reportedly does is make the water buoyant and, according to the legend of the Cree First Nations – also rich with healing properties. Of course, winter in Sakatchewan is no time to go for a dip in a lake but thanks to a pool and spa complex you can skip the bitter sub-zero cold and soak up the benefits all year round.

manitou3After an hour or so driving the arrow-straight Yellowhead Highway which neatly cuts across all four western provinces, I turned off towards Watrous and after a few minutes was flooded with a sense of deja vu. I heard a distant rumble on the horizon and slowed down and then I saw it: a freight train which seemed like it was a hundred cars long. I jumped out into the minus 20-something  bone-numbing chill and watched it pass. It was as I listened to the clickety-clack of the rails on the track that I realised I had been here before. Four years ago, crossing Canada on the “Canadian” train from Toronto to Vancouver. I watched the train disappear into the distance and thought about what a different life I led now compared to the girl on that train then.

manitou6When you’re feeling contemplative, the best thing to do is listen to country music, and of course, the prairies had radio stations to suit. I drove along singing songs about cowboys and cheating hearts, no other cars on the road following the train line and my memories. Yes! Here were the huge grain silos that I’d snapped photos of from the window of the train. In the dead of winter, the fields heaped high in snow, it seemed impossible to imagine the fields golden and green again. But the sun was bright and the sky impossibly blue. I pulled over again to watch the powdery snow snake across the road in the wind.

manitou2And I finally got to see my first ‘wild’ creatures as I turned down the narrow road lined with high trees a mile or so away from the lake and the hotel. I slammed on my brakes as dozens of white-tail deer galloped and skipped across the road, leaping gracefully over a fence to the fields beyond. Yes, they were ‘only’ deer but they were so alive and vivid, their hooves clattering across the road, seeing them felt like a rare joy and treat.

But yes, the question I know you want answered: can you really float in the water at Manitou Springs? Is it ‘Canada’s Dead Sea’? Well, yes, you can; it’s somewhat unnerving to lie back, floating easily on your back and then try and sit up, I kept flipping back, as though I was held up by unseen hands. My skin and hair felt gorgeous afterwards and after talking to a few of the many seniors bathing in the pool, it’s a popular spot for easing arthritis and other joint pains. The hotel, like the pool, is fairly utilitarian, but most importantly, spotlessly clean. It’s not an “upmarket spa” or a “boutique hotel” at all, but what you’re here for is to experience the pool and its seemingly restorative waters and really, this is the only show in town to do that.

manitou5I tried a couple of the signature spa treatments, one with therapeutic mud from the lake and another using mineral salts – honestly, I’m not sure I’d recommend them, unless you don’t mind traipsing from your treatment room, naked and covered in mud or salt, wrapped in the bottom sheet from your couch, before taking a brisk walk through the reception before hosing yourself clean in a toilet with a shower. Call me a picky princess, but I’m not a fan of that so until they build a shower IN the treatment room, I’d suggest you stick to treatments which don’t require you leaving the room as the therapists were good but stymied by the lack of decent facilities.

Manitou4The lake was covered with snow when I visited and I trudged outside for a walk to see what it was like. Cars have to be plugged in at the mains in freezing climates like this, you need a block heater or it’s likely that your car simply won’t start. I stomped past a row of plugged-in cars on down to the lake. The snow was deep, I was almost immediately up past my knees and it was hard to walk, but I could imagine this place in the summer; I saw past the bandstand thick with snow and the ice cream stall closed for the season and imagined that same blue sky and bright sun beating down on waving fields of golden corn and prairie flowers instead of reflecting the endless snow.

I travelled as a guest of the Canadian Tourism Commission, Tourism Saskatoon/Saskatchewan and Manitou Springs Resort Hotel & Spa and but as ever, all my words are 100% own.

·  Manitou Springs [Official Site]

·  Tourism Saskatoon [Official Site]

· Tourism Saskatchewan [Official Site]

 

 


25
Apr 14

Diving Birds and Bluefin Tuna on Prince Edward Island

“Making $5 on a lobster is a dream; at $4 we make money but we’re at $3 right now.” Veteran fisherman Captain Kenny looks out to the choppy gunmetal-grey water and grins ruefully before putting the ‘hammer’ down to speed us out to sea towards the horizon. There are seals out there bobbing and diving in the water, snacking on mackerel and somewhere—hopefully— Atlantic Bluefin tuna. The plan is to find them and hand-feed them with mackerel; we just have to catch the mackerel and then track down the tuna.

boat2As we crash through the increasingly rough sea, Captain Kenny yells out fishing stats above the roar of the engine and the rhythmic slap of water against the windscreen. The cod seem to not be coming back; they disappeared, over-fished into almost extinction in the 1990s and have barely been seen since. There are strict regulations on fisheries now, necessary for the survival of the oceans but hard on those who’ve made their living for generations from the ocean. A recent wild halibut season was only 12 hours long, Kenny tells us, there’s a quota and once that’s met, that’s that. It’s the same for the Bluefin Tuna that we’re seeking out right now, “I’m only allowed to catch one tuna, the weight is checked at the port,” he explains. “You clear $6,000 on one tuna if you’re lucky - often far less – there are 360 people with licenses to catch them and our quota is 125m tone of bluefin tuna for all of PEI.” The weight is subtracted from the quota and then – incredibly – names are picked out of a hat to decide who can fish for more than one.

boat3

We stop to catch mackerel, alas, it turns out I’m a rotten fisherman and the only thing I catch is another person’s hook. Fortunately there are others on board less ham-fisted than I when it comes to finding big tuna’s dinner. We bag half a bucket’s worth and speed off again until, eyes narrowed against the horizon, Captain Kenny slows the boat down and we all peer at the sonar monitor which he uses to find the tuna.

boat4The green and blue display looks pleasingly like a vintage Atari video game, and I find myself watching for fish icons to come swimming across the screen. But there is no sign of tuna – even though fisherman’s lore tell us that they are there – fishermen have always looked for these giant fish by watching birds. From their aerial vantage point birds can spot of schools of fish and they’re always on the look out for easy pickings. If they spot mackerel close to the surface and start bombarding the water, it’s likely that the tuna will be close and feeding too. It’s incredible to watch the birds dive again and again for their supper; they flap their wings, circle close and then just a few feet away from the water hurtle beak-down into the waves. The sky becomes a white-winged squadron of dive-bombing birds, It’s mesmerizing.

I watch the birds wheel overhead and then smash into the water, just beyond us wind turbines spin slowly in the breeze and all around the boat, seals bob in the water like beach balls, “Swimming dogs is what they are,” grins Captain Kenny, and offers around a plastic bottle of his home-brewed Moonshine. It’s surprisingly smooth but makes you catch your breath as it burns a heady trail down. It’s just what’s needed to numb the disappointment of a no-show tuna trip. They’re down there alright, Kenny explains, pointing to a dark pattern at the bottom of the sonar screen; just too far down for us and they’re not hungry enough to come to the surface.  Maybe it’s that second (third?) gulp of Moonshine or maybe it’s just the excitement of the boat and the seals, the kamikaze birds and the thrill of the hunt but as we chug back to harbour I’m really not feeling sad at all. You can’t schedule nature, tuna won’t swim up to be fed on demand and there’s always something a little refreshing about that in this overly-organised world. A nice two-fin salute to us humans who’ve messed things up so much perhaps? But oh, we’re trying now are trying to fix things and  eco-tourism initiatives like this and Captain Kenny’s Hook & Release fishing excursions are what will keep fishermen in business and – hopefully – give the oceans time to re-stock with fish.

I travelled as a guest of the Canadian Tourism Commission and Tourism PEI but as ever, all my words are 100% my own.

· Giant Blue Fin Tuna [Official Site]

· Tourism PEI [Official Site]

· Ocean Wise – Find Sustainable Seafood Choices [Official Site]


31
Mar 14

PEI: My Island Pictures

PEI1

There are some trips that you make which seem a little magical and dream-like even at the time. Of course; memory softens the edges; that annoying wait for the car that one afternoon or the rainy morning which made you pout, they all melt away with time. But there was something special about Prince Edward Island right from the start.
PEI3
The sharp bright colours of the island made you feel as though you’d stepped into a child’s drawing; the sky so blue, the grass and trees so green and this vivid, almost-glowing red soil and red sand. The coastline dotted about with reminders from the past and standard bearers for the future; lighthouses painted with quaint deckchair-stripes next to bright white bands of wind turbines stretching their arms as they scraped the sky.

PEI4We took a sightseeing trip in a small plane, rising just high enough to make the illusion of it all being a child’s colouring book seem real. We saw the cold, clear waters where some of the world’s best lobsters, mussels and oysters thrive. That iron oxide-rich soil which grows such sweet flavoursome potatoes, the lush green grass which feeds some of the most-prized cattle in North America.

PEI6Over the next week I’d eat and drink so many delicious things – all from just a few miles away from where I was staying in its historic capital Charlottetown. I’d meet some of the warmest and most hospitable people I’ve encountered anywhere in the world; a friendly acceptance and a delight in sharing and showing the best that they had, that felt as gracious as something from a more sepia-tinted age.

almorrisonOne afternoon I met an elderly man in a cafe and fell into conversation with him. He insisted on giving me a copy of a book, ‘My Island Pictures’ a History of Prince Edward Island by folk artist, A.L. Morrison. The pictures have that child-like dreamy quality that the island conjured up for me. I wish I knew if it had been the artist who gave it to me; I was in a rush but adopting island ways, I made time to stop and talk. But I put the book in my bag as I left and didn’t look at it until I got back home to Vancouver; now I can’t match the hazy memory of the lovely old man with the author shot on the book. Flipping through its pages now, it’s all as I remember it, almost like he drew it for me just as I remember it. He must have been the author –  who else would carry around spare copies of their book but an author? And where else would such a thing happen but PEI?

I travelled as a guest of the Canadian Tourism Commission and Tourism PEI but as ever, all my words are 100% my own.

More information:

Tourism Prince Edward Island

Air tour in a Cessna 172 Skyhawk thanks to FD Airtours

 

 


26
Mar 14

Saskatoon and the King of Kovbasa

Image courtesy of: http://www.doukhobor.org

Image Courtesy Of Doukhobor

Picture leaving your home and your village; everything you ever knew and loved and travelling unimaginably far away, knowing that you’d probably never come back. Then imagine arriving in this new and foreign land; cold, sick and hungry after a gruelling sea journey of several weeks, then you have to spend days spent passing through immigration. Next, weak with exhaustion,  you’re loaded on a train for a journey of even more days and nights with nothing to rest on but bare boards, rattling across a vast and strange country to your final destination. And when you step off the train, your body aching and sore, your new home is some 20 miles away. And there is no road. No one is there to greet you. There is nothing.

The ache of separation from home and everything familiar must have been almost unbearable.

This is the story of the Ukrainians who arrived in Canada after the 1872 Dominion Lands Act, a law which encouraged pioneers to come to the prairies to settle and farm the land there. Men over 18 and women who were heads of their households were offered 160 acres of land for a $10 administration fee. They had to stay on the land for three years, build a permanent home and farm at least 4 acres and then the land was theirs.

Yevshan Dancers

What they left was heart-breaking enough; ruled over by Austro-Hungary, Poland and Russia, denied education and conscripted to fight for the Austrian army, the people of the Ukraine were treated abominably by those who had invaded their country (and oh, in the light of recent events, how depressing is it to see things have not changed over the years).  But they made things work, these immigrants. They faced up to the back-breaking challenge of clearing bushland and tons of rocks before they could even start to farm. The men left the women and children to subsist on the homesteads, as they took paying work in lumber camps or down the mines. But they survived and lived to tell the tale.  They built communities and they made a life for themselves on the prairies. And like all immigrants, they cherished the customs and the foods of the land that they had left behind. sas8

Which brings me neatly to a huge community centre, Prairieland Park, in the heart of Saskatoon. It’s February and minus 21 degrees outside. The wind chill factor brings it down to minus 30, and I stood outside for just a moment to try and imagine living in this without the benefit of modern clothing (thank GOD for my Canada Goose parka and gloves) never mind making it through without central heating. I lasted maybe a minute or two before scuttling inside into the warmth; my eyelashes began to freeze, my chest hurt from the cold air and what small part of my skin was exposed to the vicious cold ached from the icy wind. But just looking around the people in the room I know that their great-great grandparents didn’t just survive, they thrived. Clearly they were made of so much sterner stuff than I.

The contestants

Almost 700 people are here – the majority Ukrainian Canadians – and they are here to taste food from the old country and vote on this year’s King of Kovbasa. The contest is in its thirteenth year and it’s a cultural celebration of the traditional Ukrainian kovbasa sausage. Twelve local butchers enter, and every one attending gets to cast their vote to decide who will win the trophy. It’s a prestigious contest and tasting is taken seriously. Each table gets its own huge platter of samples and there are even instructions on how best to taste the sausage; regular palate-cleansers of pickles, cheese and crackers are essential – as is immediately logging your vote on the cards provided. We’re voting on best texture, seasoning, appearance and overall winner.

sas9This is also a fundraiser event with door prizes, a secret auction and vodka-and-pickle shots for cash donations – with money raised going to an adult literacy program, READ Saskatoon. I watch the the girls and boys in their shiny blue and white costumes bring out the trays of carefully-prepared meats to serve to each table. Later they’ll perform traditional dances on the stage, the girls whirling and swirling their skirts and the boys squat-kicking. I think about how important events like these must have been to those first immigrants; a chance to talk to someone other than your family – maybe the only chance that teenagers would have to meet someone to marry. I think about how much joy and pride is in the room and of the importance of tradition and continuity. I think about how, some days when I am missing my friends and family, I can cry just at the taste or smell of something that reminds me of home.

sas4I understand why these traditions are so fiercely guarded, why people dress up and come out in the heart of brutal winter to gather together and to celebrate. It’s a pride that makes the butchers so competitive – being Kovbasa king really means something – this year SmokeHaus Meats of Martensville swept the board, winning in every category.

The winners

Leaving I stood outside again in the car park, the stars seemed so bright in the crackling cold of the night. To live here; to build a home, dig out a farm, carve out a life and create a community in bitter, brutal weather and then, decades later, to have your descendants dance in a toasty-warm room, full of good cheese and sausages, happy with vodka and beer is the immigrant’s dream. From unimaginable hardship to comparative luxury in just a few generations. I wonder at the strength it must have taken to make that first step and then the next and the next. The faintest flavour of such a life must have been in their mind when they closed the door of their homes that one last time and started their long journey to a new life in Canada, with the hope of better days driving them through the hardship. sas3

My trip was made possible by support from Tourism Saskatoon, but – as ever – my words are 100% my own. 

Further information

Tourism Saskatchewan

Ukrainian Museum of Canada

 


23
Mar 14

Dolphins and Eagles Chase Away Immigration Blues

Dolphins!

Dolphins!

There are dolphins in the sea and eagles in the sky; I whisper that to myself as I walk along the beach, my dog racing ahead of me chasing stones and dive-bombing the sand. On a day like today I need that mantra; I need to see the snow and the mountains and feel them break my heart with their beauty. I need to look out to the sea and believe that whales and dolphins are there – just out of sight. It’s hard being an immigrant. There; I said it. Immigrant – not expat – I don’t want to go ‘home’ I want this to be where I stay and make my life. I’ve fallen in love with Canada and oh, it is a capricious thing to have fallen for.

Today I spent five hours taking exams in reading, writing, listening and speaking… English. I have to pass to prove that I can understand my own language. A $300 piece of red tape to add to the rest. When my lawyer asked if I had taken the test I assumed they were joking but of course, lawyers don’t joke – not even good-humoured ones like mine – I’m glad Wildy are with me on this winding, confused, painful journey through the Canadian immigration system, I’d have become impossibly lost without them.

Image courtesy of Twitter/@Nestah14 https://twitter.com/Nestah14/status/445324444785852416

Image courtesy of Twitter/@Nestah14

But yes, on a day when it feels that the hoops you have to jump through are just too high and too many you need a miracle and that is exactly what happened. Two pods of dolphins swam into the waters of False Creek – just outside my flat – this is, according to experts at the Vancouver Aquarium, very rare indeed.  I watched them swim under the Burrard Bridge, past Granville Island and then head back – again and again. There were so many of us watching them in absolute delight from the beach, just as we thought they’d gone – back they’d swim again. Because it was a grey day,  it was hard to see them but oh! when you did… it felt like magic could really happen. I watched a pod of five swim along, their skin glinting as they dipped in and out of the water. All this – just outside my front door.

Just outside my window

Just outside my window

Later at my desk, I looked up and saw an eagle swooping just beyond my 21st floor window; its wings stretching impossibly wide, circling against a backdrop of the mountains, their snowy tops peeking out from a wispy pashmina of mist. So bring on the endless forms and the crazy exams because there are dolphins in the sea and eagles in the sky.

I shot this rather shaky video – but oh! DOLPHINS!


21
Mar 14

Challenge #4: Go to Whistler and Zipline Down a Mountain at Night

I’m trying to be brave and try new things—truly I am. But as I hang in my harness, my teeth chattering in the sub-zero cold, swinging in a cradle as helpless as a baby, I began to think, ‘hey – what was so wrong with the old ways?’. It’s pitch black ahead of me on the mountain, just a small twinkling light, god knows how far away – that’s where I’m heading on this insane zipline and god help me, if they’re not about to release the brakes

Ready to swing off into the dark void. Squint and you'll see the lights below.

Ready to swing off into the dark void. Squint and you’ll see the lights below.

A curse on this whole ‘try something Canadian and new’  plan. I’ve given ziplining at night a whirl and decided that, nope, it is absolutely not for me. Was it the screaming through the darkness god knows how high up – just attached by a wire – that made me turn my stomach? Or perhaps it was the fatal-crash feeling every time I ‘zipped’ into the end of each line? Or maybe it was the weird sensation of being horribly scared as I flew in darkness across the mountain and yet at the same time - feeling weirdly bored because I couldn’t see anything? Whatever, as fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly, this girl has gotta never do this again. And yet… I could see that if you liked it (and I was with a crew who clearly adored it) then this would be all kinds of fun.

Making tracks up the mountain

Making tracks up the mountain

It all started rather nicely with a heated snowcat ride up Rainbow Mountain. I loved this! The snow was deep, it felt like the most delicious sort of rufty-tufty Canadian fun inside the ‘Cat; blankets-over-the-knees and the rumble of the engine as we climbed at a thrilling angle up, up the mountain. The light was on in the cabin and my fellow zippers-to-be were excited. I peered out into the night: nothing. Sadly the fun bit was over too soon – we got dropped at a yurt half-way up the isolated mountain for dinner.

Normally I’d have been dancing with excitement over this; it had been catered by the Bearfoot Bistro – one of my favourite Whistler restaurants – but as I sat down and sipped on water (never have I wanted a glass of wine more) and watched the flames dance in the log fire, I realised I was genuinely nervous about what lay ahead. I pushed my perfect short rib around the plate, forcing down a few mouthfuls of whipped buttery mash and savoury gravy before giving up. Bad enough to scream, but how much worse if I threw up later?

See - how perfect and lovely is this adorable yurt?

See – how perfect and lovely is this adorable yurt?

When you dread what lies ahead, there comes a point when you don’t want to delay – you just want it to be over. Make the dinner, end, let’s just get this done, I wished to the gods of bad decisions and perilous ideas. Who knows – I was not letting the tiny flame of optimism burn out at this point – maybe I would love this. But every minute we spent in that gorgeous little wooden yurt made me doubt it more and more. For those familiar with the drill, you know what lies ahead – you carry your own kit from line to line over your shoulder. I wasn’t expecting this and as I slid around on the narrow trail in the half-light on the ice and snow, I wondered if I wasn’t about to find a far, far faster way down.

The two staff with us on the mountain with us were fantastic – friendly, helpful, fun and – kind – when it was clear that I was struggling to stay upright one of them shouldered my load and I was never made to feel like I was making a fuss. One of the group after one line decided that was enough; and they were kind to her too. Idiot that I am, I decided to stick with it. Maybe I’d grow to love it? (I didn’t.)

Not everyone hated this. OK - so ONLY I hated this...

Not everyone hated this. OK – so ONLY I hated this…

There were only 4 ziplines but it felt like oh, so much more; one was the longest in Canada, 600 feet above the ground and over a kilometer long. The part of me that wasn’t hating it all, was wondering what it would be like in the daytime? Maybe if I had all that stunning scenery to distract me from me grinding terror, I’d have had more fun?

It was very cool hanging out in the trees.

It was very cool hanging out in the trees.

Not so my companions, who whooped their way through the evening. They flew down the mountain, their helmet lights like little halos, and whooped like bad angels as they went. Apologies for this most anaemic of phrases but really: if you like this kind of thing, you’d love this. It’s well organised, if you could stomach the food it was delicious, the yurt and snowcat were a lot of fun and yes, if hurtling through the night is your bag then have at it.
I plan to keep my feet on the ground for now.

God bless them for having me – I was a guest of Superfly – who were so nice to me even though I clearly loathed it.

Also thank you to my chateau home away from home, the Fairmont Chateau Whistler who gave me somewhere beautiful and serene to rest my very achey bones after all this crazy. Oh, how I wished I’d have been able to stow away one of their special mustard-spiked cocktails with me on the line – maybe that would have helped?

As ever – my words though are 100% my own.


17
Feb 14

Welcome to the world’s eagle capital

EF5

I’d never imagined myself to be a birdwatching enthusiast before but like so many other things Canada has changed me completely. From my new-found love of leaf-peeping and attempts to develop ice skating skills to my enthusiastic embrace of drinking clamato juice cocktailsthere is apparently no limit to what I won’t adore about Canada. So, now I’m a ‘twitcher’ – why else would I be floating down a river on a bluebird sky day in early February, gazing with delight into the leaf-less trees? My new rationale being that if the world bald eagle capital is just 45 minutes drive away, well – you hop into a car, right?

Jake from Sunwolf gets our craft ready

Jake from Sunwolf gets our craft ready

A little explanation: half-way between Whistler and Vancouver lies Squamish, known as the Outdoor Adventure Capital of North America. You can hike, mountain bike, kayak, whitewater raft – everything. Ten minutes drive from Squamish is Brackendale, and as well as being a huge draw for enthusiastic types in North Face-branded clothing, it’s also where you’ll find the world’s greatest concentration of bald eagles, if you visit between November-February.

I’d visited Sunwolf late last year en route to Whistler and eaten a spectacular breakfast at Fergie’s cafe there. As well as dishing up quality rib-sticker brekkies, Sunwolf’s British owners Jake and Jess also have cosy cabins to rent along the Cheakamus River and host guided whitewater rafting trips and eagle float adventures.

Let the Eagle-Spotting begin

Let the Eagle-Spotting begin

It was a perfect day for a float along the river; after what seemed like endless grey skies and non-stop rain, the soft warm touch of sunshine on skin felt like a long-forgotten magic. And the sun was blazing down that morning. But it was cold on the river, so we suited up in the Sunwolf lounge in waist-high waterproof trousers and bundled up in scarves, mittens and hats.

Hopping into the dinghy without A) falling in or B) embarrassing myself, was surprisingly easy – my kind of outdoor adventure – all I needed to do now was sit back, listen to the soft splash of paddles on water and watch for eagles as Jake told us stories of the river and the Chum salmon which brings the eagles here in their droves. It’s a circle-of-life thing;  beautiful in its complexity and simplicity. Each year the salmon come to spawn in the pristine glacial-fed waters of the Squamish and Cheakamus rivers where they – in turn – were spawned.

It would have been hard to pick a more perfect day

It would have been hard to pick a more perfect day

It’s incredible that these fish who spend their lives out in the ocean return ‘home’ to start new lives – and it’s also where they come to end their life too. After spawning, the salmon die and in turn become a necessary life-giving food to another species. In some parts of the world bears feast on the salmon, but here it’s the eagles who thrive and survive. For a few months, the river is becomes an all-you-can-eat sashimi buffet and the eagles the stretchy pants-wearing regulars.

Waters so pristine you could clearly see the rotting salmon aka eagle-dinner

Waters so pristine you could clearly see the eagle’s dinner

I lost count of the number of eagles that we saw; mostly perched, presumably digesting huge meals, in the branches. Whenever one took flight the awe of seeing their impossibly wide wing span hit me every time. I may not be a fully fledged bird-spotting enthusiast but damn, I’m enthusiastic whenever I see a beautiful wild creature – especially in such jaw-clanging surroundings. Only the prospect of another meal at Fergie’s could cheer me after our trip was over. I really loved it: so peaceful, so much beauty and so many new things to learn along the way.

I travelled as a guest of Sunwolf but as ever my words are 100% my own.  

Also, thank you to BC Ford who loaned me a Ford Focus Titanium for my road trip. I’ve never driven a car that could actually park itself before! Genuinely amazing feature. 

More Info:

Sunwolf - Rafting, Cabins, Whitewater rafting and Eagle river floats – plus – Fergie’s delicious cafe!

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