Arctic Dreams: The Polar Bears of Churchill. PART I Dec 1, 2011
Arctic Dreams: The Polar Bears of Churchill. PART II Dec 8, 2011
Long-Haul Travel: A Frequent Flyer’s Survival Guide. PART I Feb 19, 2012
The Road Less Travelled Jan 27, 2012
Is this it? Discovering Yellowstone National Park Oct 8, 2011
To me this question is a bit of a no-brainer. But this would be a very short post if I give you my never-fail solution first up. So sit back, relax and allow me to have a bit of a whine first…
I always feel a little miserable in that first few weeks of returning home from traveling. It’s only natural.
I’ve had such an incredible year and now 2012 is approaching so fast it’s making my head spin.
The first half of 2011 was pretty quiet for me on the travel front, but the second half certainly made up for that! I travelled to some of North America’s most spectacular places this year, I redesigned my blog and my readership has increased dramatically over the past six months. So thank you so much to all of you who have made that happen!
There were some very definite highlights from my travels, so these are the places and experiences that had special significance and are the best memories of my adventures in 2011.
It’s been almost exactly ten years since I packed my bags and watched from the plane window as the Vancouver skyline disappeared from sight. After living there for a year it was a teary goodbye as I promised my friends that I would be back – that it wasn’t ‘goodbye’ but that I would ‘see you soon’.
Ten years is a long time. So much can change.
There are no words to describe the feeling you have when your face is only a couple of feet away from a polar bear: so close that you can imagine the heat of their breath.
Of course, if this happened away from the safety of the hulking polar rover, there would be no imagining necessary. These polar bears have been living on a diet of berries for months now. They are carnivores. They are starving. I rest my case.
“When you are driving your bus across the tundra through a snow storm and you can’t see the windscreen wipers…you know it’s going to be an interesting day”
Rhonda: bus driver in Churchill, Manitoba
Things can get pretty wild this far north. And I’m not talking about the nightlife. But for today at least the weather is behaving itself. It’s minus 13 degrees Celsius with wind-chill out on the sub-Arctic tundra near Churchill, Manitoba but the skies are clear and the barely-there dawn light is perfect.
I feel like I have been driving forever.
Since that first nerve-wracking drive through Anchorage over two months ago I have driven nearly 4000 miles (6400 km) through Alaska and the western states of the USA. I was sure I would never get used to that uneasy feeling of driving on the right-hand/wrong side of the road, and yet now I feel as though I could do it in my sleep.
It hasn’t rained at all today. The sky is blue and the sun is out in full force. None of which is usual on the northwestern side of Olympic National Park in America’s Pacific Northwest.
The tiny lumber town of Forks* where we have based ourselves has an annual rainfall consistently over 100 inches.
But not today.
And so we drove. And drove, and drove. With long, tiring driving days and only a couple of nights for each stop, it was torture to not be on a time frame that allowed us to stay in some of these places for a week, two weeks…a lifetime.
The often mist-enshrouded Point Reyes National Seashore, just north of San Francisco was bright and sunny for our few days there and we were fortunate to have accommodation inside the park itself.
I have lived by the ocean all my life. So if I am away from the coast for too long I start to get a little crazy; a little anxious. It’s a kind of landlocked claustrophobia that can only be cured by a good lungful of salty air and an infinite horizon.
So as we made the scenic drive up the California Coast and into the town of Santa Cruz I rolled the window down and breathed in deep. That’s what I’m talking about: salty air, stinky seaweed, crashing waves and, in this case at least, even barking seals.
Everyone loves an Aussie. Or so it seems. It’s something I’ve noticed in all the countries I’ve travelled in the past twelve years, but never more so than here in the States. The reaction I get when I tell people I am from Australia goes through a relatively standard process:
First there is the slightly confused “what-the-hell-is-that-weird-accent” look. Then come the misunderstandings as some words don’t quite translate. I resort to putting a soft, rolling American ‘r’ on the end of my words instead of a hard Australian ‘a’ to make myself understood. Amazing. The word is completely transformed. Then, after a suitable amount of translation, the inevitable question:
“Where are you from?”
Arctic Dreams: The Polar Bears of Churchill. PART I Dec 1, 2011
Arctic Dreams: The Polar Bears of Churchill. PART II Dec 8, 2011
Long-Haul Travel: A Frequent Flyer’s Survival Guide. PART I Feb 19, 2012
The Road Less Travelled Jan 27, 2012
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