Africa - Cape Town to Cairo - August 17th to ………

August 16th-Departure day-Montreal to Washington to Jo'burg to Cape Town

I arrived back in Montreal from Kuujjuaq with a swollen eye, the voice of an eighty year old woman with emphysema, and an uncontrollable amount of sneezing. Who wouldn’t want to spend the next couple days helping me with errands and saying my farewells to Montreal? Anyways, it all got done thanks to Emily’s tolerance of the bomb of luggage I exploded inher house, which her dog pigeon enjoyed as a bed, and Courtney’s expert oversee of my packing.
Off to the Montreal airport express, Goodbye Montreal, Goodbye Emily and pidge

Everything was going all too smoothly, I was caffeinated, I said farewells (even to the nice portugese lady at Salon Nella), I managed to fit everything in my bag, and I was running on time…Airport problem number 1. My flight was going from Mtl to Washington and then Washington to Jo’burg and finally Jo’burg to Capetown and I had only brought my British passport to travel on…BIG MISTAKE.
Did you know that the US makes the British get a visa to even fly through their country? I was informed this upon trying to check in with United with their agent “in training”. I offered any form of Canadian ID to prove I was in fact also a Canadian but no dice. Luckily this visa is sold online and with my laptop in tow, YUL free wifi, a survey stating I had not committed any serious offences, and a credit card payment of $14 I was set.
Crisis number 1 averted and after being fingerprinted by customs I was allowed to board.
All in all my flights went pretty smoothly although the entertainment systems failed with 10 hours to go (I did manage to squeeze in 2 movies before) and the flight attendants were perhaps the most miserable people I have ever met. South African airlines did however provide me with a delightful comfort package including socks, eyemask, a toothbrush, and toothpaste.
This nice touch quickly wore off as THEY LOST MY BAG!!!
Crisis number 2 –a blessing in disguise
I left the airport empty handed and headed to my hostel (the Ashanti Lodge) to sleep off my hatred of South African Airlines in the clothes I had been wearing and sleeping in for the last 48hours.

Now the original plan had been to leave Cape Town in the morning and begin camping my way up through South Africa but due to a lack of clothing and essentials such as my sleeping bag this was not an option. In the end it all worked out and I got to spend an extra three days exploring Cape Town.
To start the official day one of the trip (still in my same clothes) I ate my airline anger away and treated myself to perhaps the most amazing breakfast ever, espresso french toast with bananas greek yogurt and maple syrup from Shelly's cafe.
Tourist maps can of course only be read with espresso.
Fully caffeinated, I decided to make the trek up to the table mountain cable car, about an hour walk from the hostel. Good morning Africa.

Cable car up complete with a rotating floor for viewing equality surrounded by Japanese tourists.

First animal sighting of the trip, the dassie otherwise known as a hyrax.

Amazing views of Cape Town from the top.

Proof that I was really there.

Path along the top

Living on the edge

Chilling on Table Mountain, in the wind.
After a delightful morning on the Table, I re-caffeinated and wandered the streets of Cape Town. The city is full of boutiques all of which involve ringing a doorbell to be let inside to browse. I wandered further to the waterfront to pick up some necessities which I will be charging to South African Airlines and to also check out the seals playing in the water.

On the walk home, in the clothes I had been wearinr for who knows how long, the skys decided to open up and drench me. I need my bag of clothes ASAP

Northern pre-text - Summer 2011, Kuujjuaq take two, practicality mixed with insanity

So basically as soon as I got off the plane, the Kuujj sucked me dry and the blog died right then and there. Now it wasn’t all bad but this year I worked at the group home for troubled youth (12-15 years old) which gave me an all too up close and personal glimpse into some shocking realities. Hilarious things of course happened: duck embryo eating, beluga slaughter party planner, Kuujjuaq sports club run champion, pool pipe explosions, yellow bus driving and of course the role of tall blonde heartbreaker and husband stealer extraordinaire. Sheer exhaustion and a lack of blogging will unfortunately overwhelmed me.

Kuujjuaq is a place that I truly feel can never be understood by anyone except those who live it, and even then many people who experience the village solely focus on the task at hand that has brought them there to begin with. Maybe it is these people who have the right idea as to try to comprehend and contribute to the local way of life does nothing but drive one into the ground.

My first summer in the North, everything was new. My only frame of reference for what to expect came from my grade 4 unit on arctic animals, soap stone carvings, and bannock bread. Of course I had also heard the cultural stereotypes: alcoholism, drugs, hunting, fishing, overpopulation, lack of education, teen pregnancy, abuse, rape, etc.
Looking back at my first summer, I was saved by how naive I was. Never living in a small town or ever baring witness to the atrocities that many of the people face, things simply went over my head.
This summer I saw it all and I will never go back.

New year, new blog...New KUUJJUAQ?

After a strange year of sporadic jobs, air travel and a veritable plethora of final destinations I am back in Kuujjuaq. I myself am just as shocked to yet again find myself sitting on a "First Air" flight with an in flight magazine this year outlining the flourishing polar bear population in Nunavut and why they should be hunted. Although I survived last summer with a surprising array of enjoyable experiences and an even larger folder falling into the comical depressing and weird category, I would have never thought I would be back. But I am back, charged with my new found west African easy going attitude (in mind only, I will never be easy going) I am going to keep both my sanity and the blog alive, hopefully maintaining my love of cyber sharing through my travels post Kuujjuaq (to be outlined at a later date).

En route

One would think by now I would be an expert packer but I am not. I will never measure up to the caliber of suitcase immaculately balanced with even weight distribution and minimal bulk produced by David Kristensen. Due to the 40% increase in food costs as the Quebec government has apparently stopped subsidizing cargo costs, I went a little overboard on the purchasing of sustenance in Montreal. As a result I found myself at YUL with 3 70lb bags, lumpy, overstuffed and rather sad looking. I fully expect to end up with apple sauce all over my underwear and the odour of tofu ingrained in my jeans.
Air Liquide (Sarah Van Berkel), however was kind enough to sponsor my cab ride out to the airport and save me the embarrassment of dirty disapproving looks from minimalist travellers on the 747 bus.

YUL, more like YU HELL

With minimal sleep, because I am both a poor and last minute packer, the only thing keeping me going was the promise of a YUL gate B1 Starbucks coffee. After a month of "rocket fuel" (a sprinkle of nescafe powder, water and a ridiculous amount of sweetened condensed milk) charged mornings in Africa, I had really been looking forward to some fresh drip coffee from Starbucks roasted beans (probs grown in Africa, feeding my desire to return not to save the world, but to save the African nation from a lifetime of nescafe) .

NO DRINKABLE WATER at YUL, translation NO COFFEE

My heart and moral were broken, and I am now forced to spend another 10 weeks Starbucks free in the Kuujj. If it wasn't for the presence of Sarah and her coworker a tear would have been shed.

I composed myself, said goodbye to Sarah, made due with a bottled ice coffee and headed to gate 17 (hidden away in the basement of YUL). Just before boarding, Evan was kind enough to make the long gate 17 trek to wish me farewell and increase my gate 17 street cred and popularity.

First Air flight to Iqaluit with stops in Kuujjuaq
When the cost of a 2 hour and 15 minute flight is over $1000 dollars each way (thank you village of Kuujjuaq), you are treated well. Post First Air in-flight breakfast and coffee, things were looking up and the sun was shining...let the weirdness begin.

I was seated beside Robert Hudon, otherwise known as "Ti-Pit", a music teacher (guitar, accordion, piano, and drums) from Lac St-Jean en route to Iqaluit to work as a taxi driver. The strange thing about my new found friend Ti-Pit, aside from the fact that he handed me his business card which advertises the fact that he likes to be called "Ti-Pit" was the fact that he had no idea that Iqaluit was a city within Nunavut. When asked as to where he was headed (in both french and English) he responded "Nunavut", I of course politely nodded "Iqaluit?" only to be greeted with looks of great confusion. With the help of the in-flight magazine air map, I managed to explain that Iqaluit was a city within the province of Nunavut and his final destination and place of work.

How does one not know where they are relocating to? Anyways, should anyone be in Iqaluit and interested in receiving music lessons from Ti-Pit, he can be reached at 418 347 4850.

Welcome to Kuujjuaq

2 hours and 15 minutes of chatting with Ti-Pit later, I am greeted by sights of Arctic Tundra, baron landscapes, and frozen rivers.

Back in Kuujjuaq