A Canadian at Liberty

The Pyramid at the Louvre "After that I lived like a young rajah in all the capitals of Europe -- Paris, Venice, Rome -- collecting jewels, chiefly rubies, hunting big game, painting a little, things for myself only..." - Jay Gatsby As with all good things, this Great Odyssey of mine will soon draw to a close. Like Gatsby, I lived life in the greatest capitals of Europe and North Africa this year, even if only for a short while. After many months on the road and countless extraordinary, perhaps even life-changing experiences I will be returning to Canada in a few days. Even Odysseus eventually found his way back to Ithaca. Only time will tell what comes next. I joked along the way that once the hard drive on my Mac is full with photographs, it'll be time to return home. As I arrived in Paris, one of the most beautiful cities on the planet, I was determined to capture the most beautiful memories in the precious few megabytes of space that I had left. Perhaps

Sometime back in the springtime, when I was in Northwest Africa, my Macbook decided it wasn't having as much fun on the Great Odyssey as I was. It initated a 'work-to-rule' campaign, making it a little more difficult to keep this blog up to date, but still possible. While it kept pumping out the stories, it was getting angrier at me by the week. It decided to go on a series of frustrating, rotating strikes, usually when I needed it the most. I visited the Genius at the Apple store in London and we came up with a solution to get Macbook back to work. Unfortunately that solution crapped out on me too. Currently, my computer is only slightly more useful to me than a brick. Unfortunately, this means that for the few remaining weeks of this trip, the likelihood of my being able to write and post to this blog will be very limited. If I'm feeling particularly ambitious, I may write some stuff on paper, and post it when I get home in August or September or if I find an Intern

 A brilliant Life Magazine photo from the day of my 1st run En caso de mala emergencia, llame por teléfono por favor a mi hermano, Brion, en Canadá +1 613 555 1234 o +1 613 555 4321. Él habla inglés solamente. I finished scribbling this note on a scrap of paper, wrapped it tightly around my Ontario Health Insurance and Blue Cross travel insurance cards and placed it carefully in the right front pocket of my new white trousers. Then I tied the red sash around my waist and the red pañuelo (bandana) around my neck, and stepped into the hallway. Was I being paranoid? Perhaps, but as one of my new friends liked to say, “this ain’t no disco.” There was a very real risk that something could go wrong. If it did, no one was here to notice that I didn’t return. Runners Awaiting the cohete Today was the day I would run in my first encierro – the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona Spain. This is the event that leads news broadcasts around the world every July 7th, when men and a h

“Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” —Ernest Hemingway La Curva, San Fermin Encierro, July 9, 2010 I came. I ran. I'm alive - perhaps more so than ever. On Saturday July 10th and Monday July 12th, I participated in the famous San Fermin Encierro - the Running of the Bulls. I'll write much more about that when I get a chance. In the meantime, above is a picture of the Friday July 9th run of the bulls and corredores going into La Curva. I took this from the balcony location I arranged through a local company. Also, a little shout out to the Frenchmen I shared the balcony with - hope you had a great time in Pamplona guys! Stay tuned for more on San Fermin when I get caught up. The experience here was extraordinary.

I can't wait to get here! Awaiting the Rocket   (c) Getty Images Today, thousands of revellers from around the world gathered in Pamplona Spain's main square, most dressed in the traditional white shirt and pants with red sash around their waists. In keeping with the tradition, at 12:00 noon, everyone held up their red bandannas as the mayor declared the official start of Fiesta de San Fermin. The chupinazo (rocket) was fired off to shouts of ¡Viva San Fermin!, everyone tied on their bandannas and the party was on. For the next 9 days, as they have since the year 1591, the streets will be drenched in Sangria as celebrants enjoy this fiesta made famous by the daily encierro and Ernest Hemingway in his 1926 novel The Sun Also Rises. Hopefully they'll save some Sangria for me. I arrive on Thursday afternoon and have shortened my trip to Portugal so I can be in Pamplona until Monday. Here are a few pictures that I "borrowed" from the UK Daily Mail of today&

I’ve been trying to recall why I chose to visit Valencia , the next stop on the Spanish leg of the Great Odyssey . It’s quite a lovely city with its 13th century gothic-style cathedral, the ancient winding streets of Barrio del Carmen populated with open air cafés and restaurants, and the Parisian-style buildings that surround city hall. Apart from the miles and miles of sandy Mediterranean beaches though, it’s not really what I’d describe as a touristy place. Perhaps I’d just enjoyed a Valencian orange, possibly the most perfect agricultural product on the planet, so sweet, juicy and brightly coloured. That’s probably what you think of too when I mention Valencia. More likely though, I was thinking about where I should go to learn to prepare Spain’s most famous type of cuisine, the rice-based Paella . It was invented here, and during my 5 nights in Spain’s 3rd largest city, I attempted to do a comprehensive review of the local offerings. I discovered that every restaurant makes i