Topics

Going Coastal

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 22:12:00 -0700

By John Lee

It’s 8:30 p.m. when the dented, steel-grey carriages of the Skeena, the VIA Rail train serving the northern route from Jasper, begin their final wheezing crawl into Prince Rupert, the rainfall capital of Canada’s multi-fjorded Wet Coast. Far from a pampering Rocky Mountaineer excursion, this old-school locomotive feels like a perambulating 1950s diner, complete with a side order of cozy home-style charm.

Lone Star Strut

Tue, 01 May 2007 18:07:58 -0700

by John Lee

I’m standing in an overheated hotel reception room in downtown San Antonio, loosening a tie that feels like a noose and knocking back the free Merlot as if it’s water.

Dublin

Thu, 01 Feb 2007 18:53:47 -0800

By John Lee

Bleary-eyed and grumpy after a sleepless night in my city-centre hotel – a month on the road researching a guidebook has left me missing my Vancouver bed the way an amputee misses a limb – I’m wandering Dublin’s historic, near-deserted streets on a chilly, fog-shrouded Saturday morning.

Taking the Mickey

Mon, 01 Jan 2007 04:21:00 -0800

by John Lee

I’m wedged between preening TV glitterati from Mexico and ancient newspaper hacks from New York, sharing small talk about the size of Minnie Mouse’s rear, when the quadraphonic drum roll begins.

Aussie Rules: Melbourne

Wed, 01 Nov 2006 09:56:07 -0800

by John Lee

Gazing into the cold, dead face of a killer isn’t one of my preferred vacation activities, but on an early morning creep around southern Australia’s Old Melbourne Gaol there isn’t much choice.

La-La Land

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 09:12:23 -0700

by John Lee

I'm sitting outside a beachside café in Los Angeles in the middle of an unexpected storm, yawning uncontrollably as I wait for a hangover-busting greasy breakfast. Luckily, I'm enclosed in one of those see-through plastic shelters cautious restaurateurs attach to their patios when they don't trust the local weather forecast.

Je me souviens

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 19:35:08 -0700

by John Lee

I’m zig-zagging between the grassy knolls on the Plains of Abraham with a heavy heart. Now a swath of tranquil parkland, this historic Quebec City locale is where hundreds lost their lives in the 1759 battle between French and British forces, a milestone in the birth of the nation. It’s also the place where one of my biggest relationships finally disintegrated in an afternoon of juddering sobs, but there’s not a single plaque, information panel or historic re-creation to mark it.

Going Dutch

Sat, 01 Jul 2006 12:32:00 -0700

by John Lee