What the Monkey is an "Ardeche" anyway?

This is how I feel right now. Like this guy. Alright I want everybody who reads this stupid thing right now to post a comment, I mean EVERYONE, if you are reading this, post right now and guess what his nickname is. Alaina and I named everyone who stood out in one way or another on our trip. Respect goes to the winner.

Anyway, this poor man, with his massive abdominal swelling, is staring out across the endless Atlantic with his fingers distressedly running through his hair. He gazes to the horizon, thousand yard stare stare in his eyes, wondering "how did it come to this?". As though the task of crossing the sea without so much as a vessel to contain him is his sole duty, a duty he is sure may take his life. Maybe he will feel more confident after thinking a bit about buoyancy.

Or maybe he was just a European vacationer who I happened to catch at the right moment. Maybe he had a tan and was looking over the blue ocean, whose colour I stole, and was enjoying the warm water around his ankles.

Probably not.

Either way, that is how I feel. It's funny, I've travelled to other countries before, but somehow I feel like I would rather go somewhere less developed, or really foreign with the mission of travelling the country by a means of public transit. I think when I see a bus packed full of people with goats and chickens, and I stand out as the only tourist, it's easier for me to try to get on it because they can tell I'm new. Or a n00b, as we like to say in l33t sp33k. When they see the n00b, they think, oh, he's new, he won't know how the train works. And he doesn't speak spanish/russian/mongolian/indian/thai, so he won't know how to ride this train, and they're right. When I go to france, at first glance, despite all my luggage, I could be from any surrounding country, so naturally I'm expected to know how the facilities work. Also I'm expected to speak French. Wrong on both counts. I come from Canada, where a lot of us don't speak french (sad, I KNOW), and we certainly aren't used to any organized form of public (let a lone high-speed) transit. So at the risk of pre-judging, they're going to treat me like an idiot cause I should know how to ride the train and where to go, etc. Anyway, this is all senseless worrying, since I haven't done all that much research yet, so no wonder I know nothing, but still. All I know is there are 3 places I could fly into, and 1 place I need to take the train to, then 2 I could take the bus to from there. Whichever I end up at, I call from and say "I'm here". Then they come get me. So it's time to start learning the geography of France. I think I prefer flying into Zurich or Geneva right now, since I speak German, and they speak English there, vs France where they almost certainly do not. Plus it's closer to the Ardeche, where I am supposed to get to.

Now there's the issue of Ann. Who I emailed excitedly with a proposition which I now may regret. I asked her if she wanted to meet up or what her plans are, cause I thought it would be fun (which I'm sure it will be) but her African internet uses smoke signals and I think the fire went out, so she couldn't write much other than "Don't do anything yet, I will email you more later." So hopefully this doesn't mean me waiting for tix that are expensive. . . she also said something about her having a ticked to Heathrow, which is the hub for flights out of Africa so I guess that's where she has to connect from wherever. . . so she's thinknig of flying into Nyon. . . time to get the atlas out.

If anyone's been to France, give me some advice.


Now go guess this dude's nickname.

Olympics

The one sad part about going to Venezuela for me was that I missed the meat of the olympics. On Isla Margarita, VZ the air channels consist of the following: 1 - Static, 2 - snow, 3 - white noise, 4 - Chavez adressing the nation, 5 - snow, 6 - Chavez addressing the nation in slightly brighter colour, 7 - Chavez addressing the nation in dimmer colour but louder sound, 8 - Chavez addressing the nation with snow in the picture but blaring sound, 9 - Chavez addressing the nation with (Allelujah!) Perfect sound, great colour, 10 - black screen, 11 - Canal FOX, Latin America's FOX channel. If we were lucky they would be showing a good movie in english with Spanish subtitles, if we were unlucky they would be showing Los Simpson in spanish dubbing (that's right, Homer sounds rediculous screaming "WOHOO!" in En Espanol) with no subtitles, english or otherwise.

What it all adds up to is no Olympics. And do you blame them? Venezuela's only competitor was an old professor doing the luge, who the italians were kind of worried about. Not so much for his luge skill but more for his personal safety.
Nonetheless after my bout with food posioning TV was in order. I watched our figure skater dude put on a fantastic performance yesterday. I was also moved by the personality, and later the compassion, of Clara Hughes, and was really happy for Cindy Klassen - 5 frickin' medals. Way to go ladies. As much as our athletic program sucks here (not our athletes, but the financial support we give them) they dealt with it and came out on top, which is good to see. Only people like them can bring in the support that those potential athletes between a rock and a hard place really need.

What is my Harangue really about? Well technically speaking, not much. By not much I mean Avril Levigne. I know it's trendy to like her, and it's even more trendy to hate her. But can we please make an exception for me? Can I hate her and be not trendy? Here, I'll try: It's not so much her I dislike, it's everything about her, and it's that Canada sent her. What message is that? Look you can drop out of high school and still make it? She was about as dense as Cesium in her interview with CBC. They had to get a flighty uptalking interviewer to talk to her, just so she wouldn't look so obtuse by sheer contrast. Unfortunately I think Avril Levigne looks dense by contrast next to a jar of mayonnaise. Anyway, I just don't think that's the best we could do. But kudos to our country anyway for sending such strong female athletes to show the world what's what. And kudos to Vancouver for electing a mayor on what he says and does, not how he looks or whether he can walk - on a matter of sheer principle. It is a good and logical step for such a progressive leader of a city as Van is. Also, I really love our Inukshuk 2010 logo, I think it's very appropriate. I think we could have better organized the native invitation to the world. . . did the chief forget his lines? That was a little akward. What was the token he was holding? He should have talked more about it . . .

I loved the projected ice effect and the building of the inukshuk, though I think they should have built him out of fake stone, as the fake snow blocks invoked images of igloo building. Inukshuk are not generally made of snow are they? (though I know they can be sometimes). A little background to the rest of the world and even ignorant Canadians on what Inukshuk represent and who uses them would have been good too. . . Anywho, I think as long as we organize it a little better, and try to present our cultures as undiluted but with gradual borders between each other, rather than a mishmash where hockey players and street surfers cruise around a strutting Avril Levigne and a bunch of snow Inukshuk builders - we should be in good shape. Canada has a lot to offer, and the world seems to have a fairly high opinion of us. Let's show them we don't have to be delightfully tacky all the time, we have taste too. . .

Good game out there

Well Venezuela was amazing. I would reccomend Margarita to anyone who wants to see nature, or just to get hammered on a beach somewhere really far away. It is dirt cheap on the island and literally everyone I ran into was friendly. The island has mountains, desert, ocean, jungle. You can get from one side to the other in less than 2 hours, which will cost you no more than $25 in a cab. For the 2 hour ride. I would not, however, recommend the food poisoning I got from a nasty cheeseburger I ate on the last night. But I blame the airport for that, not the country. I will definitely visit Venezuela again sometime, though I will be cautious if I go to the mainland, since that is a different story all together.

Follow this link to read all about it.

http://www.margarita2006.blogspot.com/

Money for nothin' - Chicks for free

I have the riff from "Money for nothing" by Dire Straits in my head. What a legendary riff, but am I the only one who thinks the rest of the song is a disappointment? I wish Black Sabbath came up with it instead, they would have done something bad ass with it. . . "Money for nothin' and chicks for free. . ."

So yeah, game time. I love how I drift through life sometimes. Up until 2 hours ago I thought I was flying out Friday. Hellz no. I fly out Thursday. Fine by me, less questions about the stupid midterm I have to answer. . . So Alaina and I decided to pretend it wasn't Valentine's day. It's not that we don't love each other, we do, but the problem is just that. When people hear that they're like "Huh? Are you guys on the outs?" . Gimme a break. So you're in a relationship for 2.5 years, and 1.5 times in that time span comes a long a day where you are obligated to show someone you love them? This holiday was institued for people who do not do this without a mandate. I'm sorry if I ruin a few people's days here, but if you are in a relationship where you do not regularly concede that you care for the other person, and show them that in some hopes of having it reciprocated - GET OUT. You should not be in that relationship. Either that, or you're married. From what I hear. But who cares about those stereotypes anyway right? So yeah, F Valentine's day. Here's a high five to all you singles out there who are F-ing it too. I asked Alaina if I should just get $70 out of my wallet and give it to her, then maybe she could give it to me too, and we'd both be happy. She said "We could do that, or just give a high five." So I'll do that next time I see her. I mean she's too busy getting everything out da way for Margarita, and I guess I should be too considering how soon we are leaving.
So yeah - like I said, game on. Here goes nothing. It's only a week, but it could still be intense, given how things work in some of these places. ( www.dominica2005.blogspot.com check out day 7 and 11 to see the intensity) Adding to this is the fact that we know virtually nothing of the place, only what we've read on the internet. It looks nice, it's got desert, it's got jungle, it's got mountains, it's got beaches. Snorkelling, free shuttle to da beach, one day rental car, and big ass tarantulas in the woods. Also I emailed Ann about Ardeche and she is working there, which kicks ass. She didn't believe I was going to be there too, I had to send her a confirmation email to prove it. I think the African sun must be getting to her.

Well time to go get some frickin' latitude, keep it real and I will be back with another trip log.

Time to go figure out what kind of sockets they use in Venezuela.

Day 6 of the Magnetawan - a special place in my heart, and in my backyard. (that's where the boat is)

Here is another trip excerpt. It's my break from marking exams. Drifting down memory lane. . . or chute rather.

Day 5

Pressure finally seems to be rising. Let’s hope it keeps going. After they laughed at us, we let the boys try their hand at cooking good pancakes over a fire, so we could have a turn to laugh, and laugh we did. It’s 10:48 though and we need to go.

· A dark cold morning. Mountain Chute portage went over perfectly, and we paddled hard to get to Three Snye. We were worried because we saw a group from yesterday pass us as we were getting on the water. We paddled and portaged quickly and wondered why we didn’t see the other group with their 2 Grummans and mojoing campers. When we got to the Three Snye portage, a kind pair of ATVers informed us that our target site was free. What a relief. They also told us a French couple wrapped and snapped a boat on $30 rapids yesterday. I told them I thought that was typical for $30. Hopefully it’s not typical for us. Apparently we are lucky to get this site as it is in high demand these days. We are told a couple stayed here for 2 weeks straight! Why, we can only guess. As for the other group, who we certainly should have seen. . . It is possible (after consultation of the map) that they ducked out right after our campsite for a jaunt on the South Magnetawan River, which pencil markings on our old Topo indicated has been done by Kandalore in the past. If they paddle hard on it they skip $30 and end up on Miner Lake sooner than we do. This is if they don’t head further south to a road and take out. I hope our Miner Lake site is free, it’s my favourite.
Three Snye is an indicator of how low the water really is. It’s frightening. The middle and river right channels are gone – no water is moving through them. Kind of sad – more like One Snye. Oh well, it is August. It’s too cold to swim and the sky is grey. There’s a sullen beauty over everything and morale remains high.

· Later in the day I borrowed Tyler’s magnesium block and tried my hand at starting a fire and found it quite easy in these ideal conditions. I will invest in a block of it myself. If all fails it will light even after being wet. Very practical. I used the method of scraping chaff from a cedar trunk, in combination with birch bark it was very effective. Some milkweed in a film canister would make a great survival kit with this. Hopefully the pressure will rise over night. $30 will be better with sun, and Miner Lake has beautiful sunsets. . .



Day 6

This day has always been ceremonial to me, but this was legendary to match no other. We woke up at Three Snye to high pressure which promised a final break in the darkness. Morale was super high, with ridiculous songs and jokes all the way. The weather cleared as low water gave way to easy carry overs, and lines where there used to be portages. Jeff and I did a professional grade line around decapitation rock, and the boys handled their boats well through all obstacles. I rounded a point and found 1 raincoat, 1 pair of rain pants, and one pair of rain overalls, which of course fit jeff perfectly to match his styling Tommy Hilfiger dress shirt (also found). We deduced that these probably belonged to the Quebec couple that were rumoured to have lost their boat “snapped in half” in $30. We thought they took of their things to go deal with their boat. As we came up to my favourite place, where intense portaging followed by a drop-in happens, I was running up the shore to scout the portage and saw the bow deck of an ABS boat sticking out. I knew we were right about the raingear. As we ran up, we realized the boat was not snapped at all, but just very badly pinned, wrapped, wedged and submerged. The water was shallow enough in the boat to walk across the river here, which was as wide as the boat’s length. We immediately got excited about the prospect of a new boat for me. I think Jeff was more excited than I was! After spending 2 hours trying every angle and vantage point, and many different strategies of rigging mechanisms for mechanical advantage, trying to use the water to our gain, Jeff and I looked at each other. He perched on a cliff up in front of me, and I standing in the boat, water rushing around my knees, we hit on the solution at once. It wasn’t the water that was keeping the boat from flipping. It was the yoke and thwart distributing the force. After tying a safety line to the bow of the boat as with earlier attempts, I went to work with the saw on my Swiss Army knife. I cut through the yoke, and the boat settled. The same occurred for the thwart. The boat immediately lost its integrity, and after I scrambled up the cliff, Jeff and I gave the bow everything we had. It rose up backwards, folding the boat in half. Rearing it’s head like a beast, it immediately popped free, and the boat was mine. We howled like warriors as it wrenched free, and we gave wilder screams as we pulled it into shore, victorious. We have still not stoped smiling all day. I have my very own Swift Dumoine ABS boat. With about 2.5 hours of seat, yoke, and thwart work, it will be a perfect whitewater boat of $2000 value, with no more than a creased hull to show for our trouble. I shot the rest of $30 rapids with my prize tethered in tow. Here we are now, full of perogies, perched on Miner Lake, enjoying our last evening of trip, watching the sun go down on our warm rocky home. We enjoyed the legendary status of Day 6 of the Magnetawan, and we are 1 boat, 3 pieces of raingear, 1 plaid shirt, and 2 whitewater paddles richer, not to mention a bailer, some rope, quick dry pants, and a bad ass bandana. This trip will not soon be forgotten.







Day 7

A legendary summer, hopefully to be followed by another. Ending on a high note, I will write no more, as I am back in camp now, I am home.

The Virgin Mary is alive and working at Burger King right now.

This is absolutely priceless. This is what happens when careful observation meets a sense of humour. Throw in a dash of sinsister practicality. (just click the picture)

If aliens are watching, they're laughing.

So yeah, here is a week entry.

Much has changed since we spoke (read) last.
I may or may not have mentioned I was hoping to work in Europe for the spring. I had my interview with Village Camps the other day, the people I spent 48 dollars to send an application to. I guess they liked it. They hired me pretty much over the phone, if I could pat myself on the back for just a sec here. . . I was worried I wouldn't get the position in France, which had mountain biking, paddling, and caving as the main activities *drool* - the problem was I needed to be back for my WRT1 course here on the 16th. Well Rose over at VC pulled some strings and I'm in. No worries though, if I didn't get in there I would've ended up in Switzerland, not a shabby second place. So every week they give me $225 euros and let me off the leash for 1.5 days to see if I can spend it all. I will show them, oh I will. Next is to bust out an atlas and figure out exactly where the Ardeche is. . . And what it is. A region of the mountains is my rudimentary guess. Well f-it. If they got kids, they got flowing water, and they got gravity then I'm there. With wheels, paddles, ropes or whatever the position requires. My friend Anne who is doing Volunteer work in Tanzania right now http://journals.volunteer.org.nz/entry.php?id=1631 may be registered for France as well, so I can't wait to tell her we're working together!

In other travel news, Alaina and I decided we had to go somewhere hot for reading week, since she's never been anywhere hot and I didn't get my fair share of vigilante justice and tropical adventure over Christmas, so we just booked tickets South America. In the words of my good friend Yank - bad fuckin' ass. Margarita is an Island just off the northeast coast of Venezuela and we are going to check it out for ourselves on the 16th of February.

I just invigilated my first mid term the other day in a Neuro course here, so I have a stack of exams to go through, and a stack more coming tomorrow. . . I think it will be solid work, hopefully I will be done by the break. It may be entertaining though. . . I read through a few papers this morning and had myself a hearty laugh.

Here's why:

One of the questions was:
"A teenage girl describes (quite convincingly) to her parents that she has just seen the Virgin Mary appear to her. The parents take her to a priest and the priest informs them that there could be three possibilities, what are they?"
Answer for three marks:
1) The girl actually saw the Virgin Mary
2) The girl made it up
3) The girl had a localized epileptic seizure affecting the temporal lobe, triggering hyperreligiosity and an apparition.

Here is what one dude wrote:

1) Temporal lobe state induced by partial seizure w/ complex symptoms correlated with hyperreligiosity.
2) Mary is alive and working at Burger King right now.


Needless to say he gets a mark.

"Oh Jesus." "You better believe it man, nobody fucks wit de Jesus."

Back when Mark Wahlberg was Marky Mark, here's how we used to make the party start
We'd MIX in with Bacardi Dark, and when it KICKS in you can hardly walk
and by the 6TH gin you're gonna probly fall and my preDICtion is you're gonna probly barf.

Oh Eminem.

I haven't posted since last Sunday, and that is bad for 2 reasons. I don't want to be a weekend blog warrior, and also it's going to make me look like an alcoholic, cause you know what usually happens on saturday. . .

But seriously, last night. It was game on, I could make about 6 entries out of last night. Suffice it to say there was some loud drinking, partying, and what traditional folk might refer to as "carrying on". Although I would argue that things got carried off last night, maybe even off and away. Bobber was here, Will was in full effect, Alaina was over, her housemate Katie and Dano her boyfriend were here. . . Jay - on fire. His character profile will be coming up in the near future. Some car bombs were done, Dano and I ripped some live guitar for better or for worse, especially when the harmonizing to Chris Isaacs started. Jeez, where have I been without knowing how to play that for so long? Pretty sure there was a didj session and some djembe-ing as well. . . then when everyone was sufficiently smashed to just call it a night, we up and snowball fought our way all the way to a keg party. We yelled above the crowd and made outrageous claims all night. Bob tested Will's limits with insults, and I wore an apron that I found on the way in that said "Kiwi Bloke" on it. I put it back on the way out.

After we got home, Will, Jay and I realized suddenly that we had a huge Hate on for our old coffee table, which was now a broken pane of glass and a wooden frame. We pulled it out from under the new one, dragged the whole assembly outside, and in a matter of angry office space fax machine seconds, we reduced it to glass shards and wooden splinters. "PC Loadletter, what the FUCK does that mean?".

Then, when we realised it was 3:15, after taking some pictures of the passed out Mack who was now home, we took some more shots of the slingshot aiming at his face (empty of course, jeez) and Will hauled him off to his own bed. Good old Mack. Pretty sure there was an ego contest between Will, Jay and I to see who could dump more water on one spot on the floor. Jay got the most, yes, by dumping a salad bowl of water on the floor - but I wouldn't say any of us were really winners in this game, since we all have to wait for this puddle in the carpet to dry . . . Think we also left a huge penny mark in the wall from the slingshot. Tonight I'm going to make the wise decision of bringing my spud gun from home. Sweet.