The true beginning

Preamble
This is how our Newf experience and Trans-Canada Tour (TM) began. It began in Montreal on a Monday... (dream sequence)

The Drive
We left early one Monday morning. For those that are completely clueless, I left with a five foot one slave (she thinks she's taller) and a black fire alarm named Bam that most people would call a cat. At exactly 23 degrees Celcius when it's sunny and 25 degrees Celcius when it's cloudy the fire alarm goes off until the car returns below the offending temperature or the batteries run out. The drive to Fredericton was dull except for the occasional fire.

Fredericton is a small boring town. Walking the two main streets takes a grand total of two minutes. The Comfort Inn's exercise room consisted of a rat-wheel, a stationary bike and a bow-flex. My advise is: when in Fredericton don't eat their nachos.

The drive to North Sydney was a little more interesting.

North Sydney exists to service the ferry and a few local fishermen (women too, I don't think we say fisherperson yet). A beautiful little town. Strangers are discovered immediately, especially those guys with long, bright blond hair. It would seem that men's fashion in North Sydney is dark hair with a military cut. Cars stop to let you cross the street. People acknowledge each other with a curteous "hello". Their food is like their culture, quaint.

At five in the morning the alarm beeps timidly for fear of getting its arse kicked. The other half, for once, is up before me. She's excited. It's her fist time on a ferry - on a boat. We drive to the docks and straight through onto the ferry. Our fuzzy black fire alarm is silent. The smiling ferry worker informs us that we may bring the cat to the kennels or leave her in the car. We drag the cat out of the car and to the kennels. They reminded me of a German World War Two horror story. The cat was happy in the car. Each time we saw the ferry worker, he politely, with a smile, let us know that we were to exit at door E, closest to the car. The ferry is big but it's not Canada's Wonderland. (On a side note, if you park at Canada's Wonderland in the morning when the parking lot is empty remember your location - write it down. This can save you a whole heck of a lot of time. A full parking lot is much different to an empty one.)

As Nova Scotia faded into the sea, the seasickness set in. I've got the happy-as-hell-on-a-boat gene. The slave got sick. Slaves aren't very useful when they don't feel well. Fortunately for her, I've never seen any body of water calmer than it was; it could have been worse. And now for a few words of wisdom, if you feel seasick stay outside on deck rather than inside, keep your feet up, take the little pills your boyfriend's mom gave you and if all else fails find a brush and a bucket, and scrub the deck.

Fifteen hours on a small ferry is a long time. Marine Atlantic do a very good job of trying to make dull ferries more interesting. They play movie after movie after movie... They let you visit your pet. A cafeteria serves (horrible) food. But, at the end of the day (literally), only so much can be done. By the way, once you arrive in Newfoundland all of the Newfies are happier than hell to tell you that you should never ride on the long fifteen hour ferry.

We drove off the ferry at 10h30. I had now been up since five without sleeping. Besides some teenagers waving to every passing car, Argentia is void of all life. Consequently, we drove all the way to St-John's. A seasick passenger and a tired cat make for an incredibly long drive. I was comatose at around one in the morning.

The Apartment
Traveling with an animal requires a little more preparation. The cost-efficient B&B is a wondrous thing. Once you've deducted the cost of eating breakfast at a restaurant, a B&B is one of the least expensive options to the traveler. Now as I mentioned before, traveling with an animal requires a little more preparation because most B&Bs don't except pets. One has to make an obscene amount of phone calls in order to find a place to stay. While I was in the shower the slave went down to the lobby to use the pay phone. She announced upon her return that we would be on Spike's floor, of a B&B that wasn't far from the hotel. Spike's floor? It so happened that Spike was an alley cat that adopted this B&B. One day she was courageous enough to venture into the B&B at which point she didn't step outside for another two years. I guess being an alley cat is tough. Once Spike moved in the other cats moved up, up to the second floor. Spike doesn't share.

Before I continue let me tell you something about Bam. Bam is a good cat when she's not in a car that's 23 degrees Celcius when it's sunny and 25 degrees Celcius when it's cloudy. She sees the world in a odd way. Things that walk on two feet are slaves. Things that walk on four are enemies and must die. Things that have more than four legs are considered breakfast, lunch, dinner and a snack. Although, I think spiders taste funny so usually they're just squished.

The clash of the Titans, Spike vs Bam, was mostly avoided by leaving the black, furry, smoke in the room. Occasionally they would wage war from a distance with evil stares and disgraceful noises.

Informed that the Saturday paper was our best bet for apartment hunting, we waited. Saturday came. I went out early to get the paper and the slave got sick. We both did something constructive, right? Between bathroom visits she was kind enough to call some people. That same day, we visited an absolute dump and the hospital - not one and the same.

On Sunday, we moved to a cheaper B&B. The Cherylton happened to have cats too. To date, the only cat that has won in a fight of theatrics with Bam is Binx, even Spike left Bam alone. Binx lives in the Cherylton. He is a black cat with a tuff of white fur on his throat. What makes him unique are his extra toes (and a claw for each). He was so furious with Bam that he repeatedly rammed his head between our bedroom door and the door frame. Bam would have been shreded by Mr. Claws so we diligently kept them separated at all times.

We were exhausted. Our stomachs, dissatisfied with restaurant food, went on strike. Eating became uncomfortable.

Basement apartments are popular in St-John's and that's exactly what we found. To V's disgust it was recently painted white. Given the situation that wasn't going to change, however we were both grateful for our own space. Thus began our life in shopping malls. We migrated from strip mall to strip mall repurchasing the things that were too expensive to ship. We strolled down aisle after aisle of the grocery store loading our cart with the "basics". The only thing that's less expensive in St-John's than in Montreal is a DVD rental. (No longer true by the time we left.)

We purchased a rather nice looking second-hand sofa. Maybe I should call it a cushioned bench. It's the type of furniture that one would find in a hunting cottage. The exterior skeleton is made of pine bolted together in a way that would make any engineer proud. Cushions sit on top of the wood skeleton to prevent your but from going numb after five minutes; instead it takes an hour. In truth, the sofa is not that bad - carrying it into the living room was. The nice man, from which we bought the sofa, helped me destroy every doorway to the living room, so much for new paint. We removed two doors and a corner of the sofa's frame but finally the damn thing fit. Although I never really understood what he said due to his accent. (By the time we left, we both proudly spoke a little Newf.) I believe that we ended up with an extra "throne" of a chair due to his generosity. We never paid for this "throne" but we found space for it anyway. It's hard to argue with a man when you don't know what he's saying.

The humidity level in St-John's hovers around one hundred percent. For this reason we couldn't place the mattress we ordered directly on the floor. (On a side note, the funny thing about the mattress is that it had to be shipped from Montreal. We slept 12 nights on the floor waiting for it to arrive.) The decision was made to construct a wood frame upon which the mattress would be placed. When all you've got is a hammer everything else looks like a nail; so I bought some. We purchased some pre-cut pine and in order to save money a piece of MDF. It was cut into planks. Pine is a joy compared to MDF. I think MDF stands for Me Dumb Fool. We cushioned the sides of the frame to our toes' delight. The finished product looks like the inflated skirt of a hovercraft.

One last thing, I ended up at the hospital for a Tetanus shot. You known what they say, never two without three.

Veronica's first blog

I'm blogging on behalf of Veronica. She's making cinnamon pinwheels that I'm not allowed to eat. (Ladies, I'm far from an expert, but this NOT how you "convince" a guy to marry you.) I suppose at this point I'm supposed to talk about hair colours or clothes? Crap, this is difficult. Veronica did say this: "Jon-Jon is a schmuck for not answering my emails.".

Yours truly,
The guy with better hair than her.

Can't fall asleep, read this

As I mentioned in an email, pass this URL along to those interested. I know I haven't sent the blog's URL to everyone, for good reason. I'm missing several email addresses because Veronica won't share them. (She, by the way, will be fired as social secretary if she doesn't start blogging.)

I'll tell our Trans-Canada Tour (TM) story sometime in the upcoming weeks. But, you ask, what's happened since your arrival? Well you didn't ask but I'll tell you anyway - you few die-hard readers.

We moved Veronica's crap and my stuff into the apartment. Veronica managed to find a space for everything we own. I'm not sure how she manages to do this every time we move.

We rent our apartment from Stephen and Purnima. Within a week of arriving we attended Purnima's brother's birthday party. Within two weeks of arriving, Bam was given complete access to their house and we began watering their (indoor) plants while they visit the Caribbean. Not bad for two weeks.

School's going well. I received my first check. Research and classes? So far so good.

My first impressions of BC are:
- It's very green.
-You are guaranteed to smell Pot in public places.
-Some people talk slowly, maannn. (Possibly the people that scent public places.)

Last time

I attempted to start a blog when I first arrived in Newfoundland; and here we are, attempting to start a blog again. This time will be different. This time "we" are starting the blog not "I". You can infer from the last sentence whatever you'd like. So here's what I said last time:

The next thing I should probably explain is this, what you're reading. I was told to write, call and fly back. There are three problems. I don't like writing because I can't read what I've written. I don't like telephones. I can't explain why I don't like telephones but I don't. (On a side note, I like telephones that don't work so it could be that I don't like talking on the telephone.) I like flying, in an airplane, but I don't like paying for the tickets and that would be problem number three. So here I am typing. I have no idea what this typing will turn into.

What I wrote last time remains true. So here I am typing with no idea what this blog will turn into.

(Maybe Veronica will actually make this blog interesting.)

It begins...

Veronica and I decided that the easiest way to stay in touch with everyone is... a blog. So here it is. The blog will get better than this but, unfortunately, it will always be twice, if not three times, more boring than we are. (Many thanks to Jon for the title and Luke for the URL.)

And so it begins...