Day One
So here begins the recordings and memoires of my Canadian adventure for all to see and know. I’m currently writing on a coach from Toronto to London, the city home to my exchange university (Western Ontario), and although I feel like I’d pay a lot for the English public transport services to be moved over here, I can’t contain my excitement.
Yesterday I travelled from Southampton to London Heathrow, where I caught an eight-hour flight to Toronto International. Unable to sleep due to it being daytime during the whole journey (we gained more hours due to the time difference), I spent the journey watching nature documentaries, pretending I couldn’t smell the adjacent passenger’s body odour, and drinking copious amounts of coffee. Waiting on the other side for me was my lax bro Leander, who’s doing his own university placement in Toronto. Unfortunately for Leander, however, he’d have a while to wait.
Upon arrival at Toronto International Airport, I had to queue up at the Immigration Centre, which took a good fourty-five minutes of waiting in line whilst some crazy old German woman ran up and down the queue calling myself and the other passengers ‘immigrants’. After finally being allowed into arrivals, I was greeted by Leander with a cup of Tim Horton’s coffee.
We made our way to his ‘apartment’ (they don’t use the word ‘flat’ in this country) on Elm Street where Leander eagerly showed me his roof. From up there, we could see the entire skyline of Toronto. At night, lit up, it was a sight to behold.
However, to end the night there would be a lie, for surrounding us were drunk Canadians also trying to climb up onto the roof. It was not long before, after a few attempts at an English accent and conversations about snow, we followed them into ‘Downtown’. After arriving at ‘Maddy’s Bar’, which was refusing entry, I then got in a taxi with two of them forgetting that I should really stay with Leander (although I don’t like beer, I’d had some beer). It was in this taxi that I was informed that the University of Western Ontario (UWO) was jockey and full of white rich Jewish kids. We then hopped between two bars; one which sold pizza and contained arcades, and the other which had no distinctive theme.
This night I had the revelation that English youths are atypical in their drinking habits. The rest of the world does not deem it cool to binge and throw up, as graphically illustrated by Canadian A whilst we did shots with him – ‘NO WAY MAN, I CAN’T DO ANOTHER SHOT, I’VE HAD THREE IN ONE HOUR!’.
After the bars closed at two (like all alcohol establishments in Canada), we went to the Lakeview and ordered poutine; Canada’s national dish, subsuming French fries, gravy, bacon and ‘cheese curd’. I wasn’t at all impressed, and Leander and I walked home with a bottle of Gatorade. We then slept in his oven, because Canada is actually really bloody hot.
Day Two
So now I’m writing from my kitchen in Alumni House UWO. Day Two consisted of waiting around at coach stations and moving in to my residence. I met a few Ozzies and a Kiwi, checked out the gym and met my Jamaican flatmate Wilson.
Day Five
Day Five was Game Day, or ‘GAME DAY’ as Canadians call it. Western Mustangs vs. York, and we won by a disgustingly high amount.
Slightly hungover from the night before, I got up fairly late and didn’t get the chance to eat, and so on the way to the stadium with my good friend Will Rainbow (I cheated, he’s also a Southampton kid), I persuaded him to wait for me to get a free ice cream at a banking stall. It was here that I was ambushed by about five hyenas as my beautiful and elegant English accent rattled the basilar membranes of their inner ears. As I was taking a photograph of myself next to their logo (the task to obtain the ice cream), their heads all span around in unison. ‘HE’S BRITISH’ one woman fangirled, ‘GET THESE BOYS SOME ICE CREAMS!’.
After being explained the parameters of the banking account, I was then asked to ‘say something English’ by one oogler (pictured above). I then reminded her that it was, in fact, the English language, and I had been speaking in it the whole time. I then escaped with Will, melted ice cream in hand.
The atmosphere in the TD Stadium was huge, with purple balloons everywhere, lots of noise, and a horse IRL. After the first quarter (which took about an hour because they stop and start so much) the stadium pretty much cleared out, and my friends and I went up to my mate Alastair’s room to drink and play games.
