A Canadian at Liberty

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

Barcelona Harbour Boom. BOOOM ... boom. KABOOM . Crackle crackle BOOM crackle… boom BOOM . Nope. Those are not the lyrics to a Sly and the Family Stone song. You are also forgiven if you thought this was the sound of the locals celebrating my arrival in Barcelona (I assumed this was the reason for the ruckus too.) After a memorable adventure in Switzerland, I arrived in this Catalan city on the eve of the Feast of Sant Joan holiday when the entire city was celebrating the summer solstice – the shortest night of the year. This is a major holiday in this region of Spain, where the Catalans see the sun as a symbol of abundance, purity and fertility. On the greatest day of the year for Sun, the people seek to give it strength to sustain itself throughout the year. To “feed” the sun, bonfires are lit in the plazas of the city and along the playas of the waterfront while the never-ending explosion of fireworks constantly shatters the day and night sky. There was a palpable feeling