Souvenirs d'un Montréal magnifique...

Whereas Toronto’s British heritage was at its most visible in the Royal Mail signs in the restored post office, Montréal’s French heritage is unmistakable – not only do the grand stone churches, picturesque cobbled streets and numerous street cafés make you think that you’ve wandered into Paris, but the language you hear on every street corner is no longer English, but Québécoise French (which we learned is similar to Old French, sprinkled liberally with bits of English).

Montréal – the home of Cirque de Soleil, Arcade Fire, Leonard Cohen, Rufus Wainwright, William Shatner and Godspeed! You Black Emperor, amongst other famous names – is one of Canada’s most beautiful cities.

The heart of the historic quarter (which reaches from the edge of Chinatown down to the quays) is the Rue Saint-Paul, running as it does through the districts of Vieux-Montréal and Vieux-Port. On it sit the glittering and intricately decorated interior of the Notre-Dame Basilica as well as the old city hall (now home to a collection of upmarket boutiques). Within a few streets, can be found the wonderfully informative and well-designed historical/archaeological museum (which takes you through the history of the city from pre-colonial times to the present) and the old Clock-tower, from which you can get magnificent views over the city and Saint-Lawrence river. Keeping the old-world feel amidst the newer part of town is McGill University, with its open, green campus and grand neo-classical buildings.

St. Joseph Oratory, on the other hand, is a gigantic concrete and granite structure built in the early 20th century (including a dome exceeded in size only by that at the Vatican) which mixes a very traditional exterior with a modern minimalist interior – quite the contrast to Notre-Dame! Even more modern again, and strikingly similar to Tokyo, is Montréal’s ‘underground city’ – the sprawling complex of shopping malls, cafés and subways which connects most of the hotels, office blocks and public spaces.

Today we leave Montréal, and Canada, for Boston – the last place on our itinerary! We’ve very much enjoyed our many stops and experiences here, and expect our brief return to America will be just as memorable.

Onto Toronto

Despite our next stop being an urban one, and intending no slight upon the city’s own sights, our abiding memory of our stop in Toronto will definitely be Niagara Falls, nestled between two of the Great Lakes and forming part of the Canadian-American border. We decided to be a bit flash and take a helicopter flight over the falls and although we had heard that this was the best way to see them, we had no idea just how exhilarating the experience, or how utterly unparalleled the views, would actually be. We shot up into the air from the helipad, soared over the Niagara river and whirlpool and swept around over the iconic Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side and the lesser American Falls before heading back to the pad. Returning to stable ground for a while, we next took a stroll through the tunnels that have been dug so you can see the water crashing down in the falls from behind, and then donned some blue, translucent, plastic hooded (I don’t think I need to go on – safe to say they weren’t the most stylish things in the world) ponchos to take the Maid of the Mist boat ride right into the spray at the foot of the falls.

The next day, not to neglect the city itself, we travelled up the landmark (though no longer tallest in the world) CN Tower in its high-speed lifts right up to its tallest accessible point – the aptly named Skypod. On the main level, about 40 floors down from the pod but still vertigo-inducingly high, we took a few deep breaths and walked gingerly across the glass floor with its unbroken vertical view – over 1,000 feet straight down! From high-rise to low-tech, we also visited Toronto’s first post office (amazingly still functioning and fully restored to its early-1800s form) to write a letter with a real feather quill pen and dipping ink and seal it with wax. During our busy day of sightseeing we also took in the lovely university campus, a few of the old stone churches, a gallery of Inuit art tucked away in the foyer of the office-filled Dominion Centre, as well as the sights of central Downtown along Yonge St.

Forward again in time, but crossing cultural borders, our next stop is Montréal.

Rolling through the Rockies

Upon leaving our Vancouver hotel we, for a change, were not heading to the airport, oh no; we were heading for the train station. Not just any train station though – the station for our two-day luxury train ride across Canada, on the Gold Leaf Rocky Mountaineer.

Sitting in the middle of a long line of passenger cars, ours was a sparkling blue and white double-decker with a dining car and open-air observation deck below and our seats above, with a panoramic glass domed roof from which to view the utterly spectacular (and spectacularly varied) scenery. Indeed, the roof is partly to blame for the ridiculously vast number of photographs I took in such a short space of time!

When not ooh-ing and ah-ing at the raging rapids, sheer cliffs, towering snow-capped mountains (and in the middle of summer, remember) and miles of unbroken pine and fir forest, we were treated to first-class service, knowledgeable and engaging commentary, free-flowing wine and silver-service dining. We even met a really friendly girl from Denmark who was sitting across from us upstairs and with whom we had interesting conversations over our gourmet breakfasts and lunches.

Despite the fact that two full days on a train seems like quite a tiring prospect, even with a very comfortable setting and a stop-over in a hotel in Kamloops, the time flew past for what we will definitely consider one of the most memorable parts of the whole holiday. Rather than intersperse the text with photos this time, I thought it might be better to sign off with a photo-diary of our two days. Enjoy, we certainly did.

Visiting Vancouver

Our first stop in Canada has been a very pleasant one – a city not of stark contrast but of comfortable connection with its different elements. To look at, Vancouver is a charming mix of old and new buildings in a compact and coherent urban space sitting harmoniously in the wilderness at the foothills of the mountains and the edge of the sea.

On our first day we took a gentle stroll around the city, taking in historic Gastown with its steam-powered street clock (which whistles musically every 15minutes) and its statue of the colonial entrepreneur who became its iconic figure – ‘Gassy Jack’. After lunch (at which I fell in love with Blackened Salmon burgers), and taking advantage of the beautiful summer weather, we headed out to Stanley Park. There we saw, amongst the woodland trails, some of the famous totem poles carved by First Nations artisans, we attracted a group of curious Canadian geese and we viewed the statue in the bay titled ‘Girl in a Wetsuit’ – a good-natured dig at Copenhagen’s Little Mermaid. (Since Vancouver was denied the right to reproduce the original sculpture, the Canadian sculptor gave his female figure fins, snorkel and a wetsuit!) Later that afternoon we visited Christchurch cathedral, the historic Fairmont Hotel and – in a nod to my legal leanings – the British Columbia Supreme Court building with its rooftop gardens, before retiring to our hotel’s terrace to drink wine looking out over the mountains and the bay’s rather regular seaplane traffic.

Yesterday, we took the bus to the foothills of Grouse Mountain to cross the Calipano Suspension bridge, a two-person-wide construction of wire and wood strung over a deep ravine in the foothills of Grouse Mountain with rushing water below and towering Douglas fir trees on either side. On the other side was an impressive and informative nature park with treetop walkways, a nice shop selling maple fudge and a live band in period costume playing Canadian songs from late 1800s when the bridge was first built.

Finally, to bring you all up to speed, we come to today’s outing to the University of British Columbia’s Museum of Anthropology, a distinctly modernist concrete and glass building – though far nicer than the Boyd-Orr-esque (a reference only Glaswegian West-Enders or Glasgow University graduates will appreciate) monstrosity that is their Law building! Inside the museum is a well displayed and detailed collection of traditional First Nations craftsmanship, as well as more recent work by Bill Reid, the man credited with being at the forefront of the revival of traditional art and sculpture. On our way back we stumbled upon a small group of tents displaying and teaching about First Nations culture alongside musicians and a group of First Nations dancers performing tribal dances in traditional dress.

We’re just about to leave Vancouver for the train across the Rocky Mountains, so this may be the last update until we reach Toronto (depending on how available internet is at the train’s various stops).

Walkin' the streets of San Francisco

Back on blogging schedule (after being told off for keeping you all in such suspense), here is our story from San Francisco: it’s a story of an ethnic and cultural melting-pot with super-friendly people, cheap and efficient public transport, good food, and world-famous sights of both social and historical significance.

The night we arrived we found a great pizza place just across from our hotel and while chatting to the waiters we were given some insider tips on what to see. The next morning we hit the ground running: we took the bus to Golden Gate Park to see the huge newly re-opened science museum and aquarium before heading over to Haight Ashbury to experience the heart of San Fanciscan hippiedom (and experience it we definitely did – we stumbled upon the very bohemian annual Haight Ashbury festival and got custom-written poetry from a student with an old typewriter while drinking real American lemonade). Next we walked through the seriously wealthy districts of Richmond and Pacific Heights to get down to the marina at Presidio where we got a magnificent view of the Golden Gate bridge in the evening from Palace of Fine Arts, when the water glinted in the sun.

The next day we took things a little easier; we boarded the tram to the docks for the ferry to Alcatraz (a round trip, we didn’t have to follow in the footsteps of the many escape attempts and swim back, thankfully)! After that we wandered through Little Italy and the thronging streets of Chinatown before taking a stroll through Yerba Buena park (named after the town that preceded San Francisco).

Next morning, after a rare lie-in for us, we decided to take the cable car (the only one of its kind in the world) to Fisherman’s Wharf and were greeted at the ticket-line by a black baritone busker in a bow-tie (alliteration overload, I know) with a huge smile. An early lunch of clam chowder in a bowl from a sourdough loaf – a combo invented in a bakery near the old Del Monte cannery – was followed by a chance encounter with some sea-lions before we headed to Lombard Street (named the ‘crookedest street in the world’ for having 8 hairpin bends in the space of one block) and on to the small and well-hidden North Beach museum which chronicles the contribution to the city of its various immigrant communities. Finally, we returned home via Nob Hill and the Cable Car museum (which rather than being an historical affair highlighted the still-working machinery which has driven the system, almost unchanged, from the 1800s).



Not to leave a moment un-used, we spent our last morning before flying out squeezing in a few more sights. We took the tram to Castro, the heart of the LGBT district (and just as Little Italy had Italian flags painted on all the lampposts, Castro had the rainbow flag), and walked to Mission with its high Hispanic population and the oldest building in the city – an old stone church, Mission Dolores – dating from the 1790s.

Now we've arrived in Vancouver… so stay tuned.

Hang loose in Hawai'i

Originally planned as a second rest-stop (the first since Langkawi), our visit to the most remote islands on earth turned into a relatively eventful week – so eventful in fact that we were too busy experiencing it to blog about it!

Whereas Langkawi was a tropical island of beaches and rainforest, the ‘big island’ of Hawai’i has 11 of the world’s 13 climates… of which we encountered a fair few! In the course of one morning’s drive (in a big American convertible, no less) we moved from palm trees and ferns, through a shiny black lava moonscape, to rolling hills which wouldn’t look out of place beside the peat-bogs of the Isle of Lewis. Of course Lewis doesn’t have an active volcano (with so much lava flowing into the sea that they measure the land added to the island in acres per day)!

While the lava where it flowed, makes parts of the island essentially barren, the coastline where we were staying was the archetypal Polynesian beach with white sand, palm trees and turquoise water teeming with tropical fish and giant green turtles. In between swimming with the turtles, eating exotic Dragon-fruit (with its fluorescent purple interior) and drinking from coconuts hacked fresh from the tree (or world-famous Kona coffee from the neighbour’s plantation) we found some time to explore. We visited some impressive native Hawaiian temples, wandered down subterranean lava-tubes, drove through the cattle-ranch district (where the locals wore cowboy boots and ten-gallon hats rather than flip-flops and shades), and went down to Huggo’s bar, right down on the sand, to hear live rock after sunset from an ensemble of award-winning recording artists.

What made this stay so memorable was the warm hospitality of our hosts, Jamilla and Ahti, without whom we wouldn’t have seen the real Hawai’i as their knowledge of its history and culture was unsurpassed. I even went native, to a degree, and I don’t mean by polishing off the portions with which all the cafes and restaurants insisted on filling the plates (one morning I ordered French Toast and got half a loaf with each slice over an inch thick) but instead by buying and starting to learn the Ukulele – with the help of Jamilla’s good ear and string expertise of course. Ahti would have helped, but was away playing a screaming sax solo at the Hawaiian music awards with the band we saw at Huggo’s – and what an amazing warm-up gig that was!

After the far more rural, relaxed (and real) Hawai’i, we travelled to Honolulu and stopped over there in order to make our flight out to San Francisco, so we had a chance to experience the other extreme: Waikiki Beach, perhaps the most famous, built-up and commercialised place in the entire state, is where the surfers ‘hang loose’ and ride the waves almost before the sun climbs lazily above the horizon.



















Next stop; San Francisco.

Faster than a speeding bullet

From Japan's modern heart, we took the famous bullet train to what is perhaps the place which gives the best taste of traditional Japan; Kyoto. Spared the allied bombing in WWII, its narrow, winding streets and wealth of shrines and temples large and small, survive to this day alongside traditional tea-houses in Gion district, the home of the Geisha.

In a city with an historic building on every street corner, just about, the most impressive were a Buddhist temple built around Japan's longest wooden building (holding 1,001 golden statutes arranged, mesmerisingly, row upon row), the Golden Pavilion (which, as its name suggests, is a pavilion set in beautiful gardens and almost entirely coated in gold), and Nijo castle with its wonderfully preserved Kano-school wood and lacquer paintings on gold-leaf backgrounds, and its 'nightingale floors' that chirp like birds when you walk on them (originally designed to alert guards to intruders).

Shady Zen rock-and-gravel gardens and Bonsai-laden stroll gardens abound along Kyoto's Philosopher's walk - I'm more of a legal theorist, but close enough - and in the castle ground we took traditional 'matcha' green tea (made of powdered tea leaves frothed-up with a small brush) in a Tea pavilion overlooking a Paradise garden.

Although there's more than enough to see in Kyoto for three days, we dragged ourselves away for a day to travel to Himeji castle (one of Japan's great castles with imposing fortifications and graceful towers) and Hiroshima. While visiting the tortured metal and concrete of the A-bomb dome, and the sobering museum was at points a difficult experience, the graceful Peace Park and the spirit of progressive anti-nuclear and anti-war movements provided an uplifting note.

The Land of the Rising Sun has been a rather magical place to visit, though the energy expended after an already busy stop in Seoul has left us ready for the next relaxing stop with our friends in Hawaii.

Together again in Tokyo

Our arrival at the gate in Seoul airport for the flight to Tokyo set the scene for the next stage of our journey: before opening for boarding the entire ground crew bowed in unison to us, our first taste of the peculiarly Japanese penchant for restrained politeness in every situation. We checked into our hotel to find a 31st-floor view to top any we've ever had from a city hotel (no penthouse for us, though, just a hotel that started on the 25th floor of the Shidome Media Tower to thank for it).

That night, we met Yuu (a Japanese girl who was a good friend of mine from Primary school who went back to Japan with her family after P7, and with whom I'd lost touch until managing to contact her just before we left Scotland) who took us to try some real Japanese food in a real Japanese bar/restaurant... in Tokyo train station's Kitchen Street. While that will sound strange to those more accustomed to Glasgow Central, Japan's malls and train stations have whole avenues of shops, bars and restaurants of an impressive choice and quality.

Next morning heralded the start of our exploration of the bustling metropolis with its steady (not ending even at 10pm at night) stream of people in suits hurrying in the direction of one train track or another, its tiny streets of traditional houses clustered together between the wide avenues at the bases of glittering spires of steel and glass, and its people more often attired in traditional Kimonos than one might imagine given how rare it is to see a kilted man (who isn't in the tartan army)!

And using the term 'exploration' is no accident - with at least 5 vertical levels of traffic at various points (subway, ground trains, pedestrian overpasses, raised expressways and monorails) and public-transport timetables that rival the yellow pages for thickness, Tokyo is no easy city to navigate, though it remains one of unrivalled respect for one's elders (in the giving up of seats) and politeness (with "queues that would make a school lunch-room supervisor envious", was one observation made, I believe).

As well as visiting the majestic Meiji Shinto Shrine, the tiny but fascinating Sword Museum and the lighthearted and engaging Edo-Tokyo museum, we took a stroll through the high-fashion and high-technology district of Ginza. As amazing as all these places were, the Japanese proverb, "Nikko wo minai uchi wa kekko to iu na" (Until you have seen Nikko do not say grand/splendid), holds true. The sleepy hill-top town is the gateway to a huge complex of Shinto Shrines and Buddhist Temples in the middle of forest which had us stopping every few metres for another stunning photograph. Less famous, perhaps, but no less noteworthy, is "Hippari Tako" which we stumbled upon after seeing signs of both a vegetarian menu and a welcome message in Spanish, of all things! The tiny, three-table cafe is run by Miki-san, who serves the freshest and most delicious noodles and tempura we've ever had, and are ever likely to have. The walls, covered with business cards and messages left by appreciative guests from around the world, are testimony to both the wonderful cooking and Miki-san's warm hospitality.

The adventure doesn't end there though - on leaving our hotel we headed off to the Tokyo station to catch the bullet train to Kyoto.

Sayonara for now.