For starters, I had the time of my life in the Americas. I did so much in such a short space of time, talking to people with no idea where Brighton, England is and even less idea what it’s like. People either loved my accent or had no idea what I was saying – sometimes even both – but I somehow got by.
So this time a year ago I arrived in Vancouver, Canada and saw my friend Daisy for the first time in months (or I would have done, but she was hiding around the corner, totally oblivious to the fact that I’d got through the arrivals gates and was looking for her).
On my first day we hired bikes and cycled around Stanley Park Seawall, a stunning stretch of bike and footpath that showed some of the best views of the city. I was terrified I was going to kill someone or be killed, having not cycled for about 10 years. We were all more than a little confused by the crazy wide, rounded handlebars. But more than anything, I was blown away by Canada’s good looks.
A crush had developed, and pretty quickly grew into lust. I loved my stay in Vancouver, walking around the city centre shops, drinking soda floats (yum!), gazing at the colours in the park, sitting on St Kitts beach, watching the sea planes take off from the harbour, meeting Daisy’s fun new friends, eating copious amounts of everything on Granville island and dancing non-stop on country music night.
Now it’s been a whole year since my first day and Daisy’s getting ready to come back from her 18 month (ish?) Canadian adventure. When I first agreed to go and visit her there, I thought I’d have a quick 10 day holiday in Vancouver and come home.
When life threw me a chance to turn it into a longer trip I grabbed the opportunity and pinned it to the wall until it surrendered every penny of pocket money its mum had given it. I had the time of my life, and given that decision again, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
In the meantime, I have my awesome memories, and some photos: