Tuesday 26-June, 2007

So courtesy of Air Canada I leave Blighty from London (LHR) at 12:05pm - Terminal 3, and arrive in Canoedia 6hrs 40mins later ... and ..

.. Halifax Int'l Airport (YHZ), Nova Scotia, in particular, which is 2,860 miles (4,604 km) to the west from home. A mere 'walk-in-the-park' compared to the very long-haul travel experiences of the recent past.

YHZ is not a BIG airport; I suggest that it’s around the same size as Bristol Airport in England. As such the process of Customs/Immigration and baggage reclaim takes no longer than 40 minutes in total. Within an hour of landing, therefore, I’m alighting the airport’s Hoppa Bus into downtown Halifax; a journey of 35 kilometres (22 miles), which takes about 35 minutes to complete.

My pre-reserved motel room is actually located in the nearby - and 'joined-up' - town of Dartmouth, just across the harbour towards the northeast.

That evening, I wander across to the nearby 'Mic-Mac' Mall; a huge shopping complex that should stock a DVD-ROM of MapSource's North America City Navigator software, which will mean that once acquired, and the mapping software is uploaded to my PC, I shall in turn be able to navigate my way around this huge continent with the aid of my trusty Garmin GPS unit.

I deliberately chose the motel for its more-or-less equidistant location from (a) the Mic-Mac Mall; (b) Wallenius Wilhelmsen (WW) Logistics [the shippers] local Halifax office; (c) the Canadian Customs local office; and (d) where I reckoned the bike would be parked-up after the transatlantic ferry crossing.

BUT - BUGGER-IT-ALL! They don't have the software at the Mic-Mac in stock right now .. :-(

The next day, is again a frantic one. I'm still not certain if the US-based insurance brokers have finally arranged the necessary cover to make me legal to ride my STeed here, across any and every American state and Canadian province. This box must be ticked.

I visit WW's office and pay the necessary release fee of CAD $170. Then take the paperwork to the Customs office and get clearance to collect the Silver-Pan-Machine from the Autoport at Eastern Passage.

Once all the business is finished, instead of catching another taxi ride back to Dartmouth; I decide to ride across the harbour by way of the regular ferryboat service. Nice change!

Looking back at the Halifax 'skyline'

Wallenius Wilhelmsen (WW) Logistics office is located on the seventeenth floor of that big bugger of a building on the right. If you count them up, you will discover that the 17th is right at the top. It would be though, wouldn't it .. ?!

Did I ever mention that ... I CAN'T STAND HEIGHTS!!

Thursday June-28, 2007

The Autoport at Eastern Passage - and Wallenius Wilhelmsen's depot - is located around 10-12 km (6-7½ miles) to the east ... too far for an impatient Cornishman to walk. So after an early breakfast I get a cab ride to WW's Autoport-based office. Then go through the inevitable paperwork with another admin assistant. She calls one of her gorilla-like colleagues who drives across from the other side of a huge parking lot and taxis me back in the general direction from whence he came.

Within a couple of minutes I'm dropped-off, with some more paperwork, to meet-and-greet a familiar silver-coloured good lookin' friend ... :o)

After signing some more paperwork, I'm instructed, in no uncertain terms, to don my day-glo yellow over-vest and proceed to the entrance barrier gates, where I exchange some more paperwork with the entry guard. Then we’re let loose onto the Canadian roads.

HALLELUJAH! Brothers and Sisters ... Free at last! ...
..Thank God almighty, we are free at last!

Within 20 minutes I'm parked up alongside the motel's front door entrance area. I'll just turn the ignition key to switch on the electrics and change the bike's clock to local time. Yes, that'll be a good idea.

By 11:00am I've figured out a way to pack my entire luggage into and onto the panniers, top box, rear saddle and top box rack; then climb into my riding apparel; helmet on and plugged in; tune the radio to a local music station ... and attempt to turn the engine over. Which just dies on me. The 'eff' word immediately springs to mind!

I've got thousands of miles ahead of me and I can't even get away from the motel. SHIT-CAT-POO-FART-WILLY! I really should have had the engine turning over when I adjusted the STeed's clock.

Ho-Hum. This is not the best way to start my grand tour of North America. I then literally breakout into a sweat. And the unusually high temperature and humidity this morning doesn't help matters.

So I try to bump start the power pack down the gentle incline away from the motel's entrance. No good. There's too much compression to overcome, and even in second and third gears, all I do is lock-up the back wheel at every attempt and release of the clutch. And now I'm around a 100 metres from the motel .. and I've run out of hill!

Double Fcuk!

The motel reception manager assures me, however, that there is a power outlet right by the pole that, by pure chance, I've stopped alonside. What a stroke of luck then, cuz all I've gotta do is hook-up my battery optimiser/charger for maybe a couple or three hours, and trickle in just enough juice to start the engine.

But for some reason the power is down on the pole's socket. Guess what word immediately springs to mind?!

Hang-on though just a darn tootin' minute! ... maybe my luck is in after all? .. as I've stopped immediately adjacent to a car repair garage .. I wonder? .. and wander over and make friends with the service manager.

Within five minutes the young apprentice, Rob, carries over a 12v car battery booster; hooks-up the leads to my battery polls, and BINGO!! ... we're in business and away within another 10 minutes.

I'm glad I didn't nick the face flannel from my motel room after all. Natural justice has been done!

I'm soon outta town and heading off northwards towards the city of Moncton, which is some 140 miles (225 km) away.

After a while, I'm passing through the township of Truro*. I feel obliged to stop and take a look around. After all, Truro is my county's [Cornwall in England] capital city and centre of commercial interest.

I ride into the middle of town and park-up alongside the tourist information centre.
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* A little known fact: Truro is the only city in Great Britain that begins with the letter 'T'

The three pretty - and apparently hugely underworked (I was the only person making an enquiry at the time) - young female receptionists all give me a warm smiley greeting ...

"And how may we help you today Sir?"

I explain why I've called ... and soon afterwards I'm asked to sign the visitor's book. Then I'm given some local-town souvenirs to take with me on my journey.

I thank them for their time and generosity.

"You're welcome" ... " Have a nice Day" All three say, almost in unison.

I really do wish everyone would .. STOP SAYING THAT!!

By 6 o'clock the temperature starts to drop ... and I'm growing tired. So I book a motel room in the seaside township of Shediac. One of the self-proclaimed lobster capitals of the world.

I retire to one of the local restaurants - and order THE speciality. Well ...

.. somethings ya just gotta do in these special situations! ... :o)

Friday June-29, 2007

Nothing much to report. As suggested by a few, some of whom are actually local to the area, the ride across and up through the Province of New Brunswick was, with just a few odd exceptional moments, quite uninteresting and therefore distinctly unmemorable.

Mile after mile after mile, this is the typical scene ahead.

But Hey! - I managed to cover 620 km (385 miles) today, all the way through to the contrastingly pretty township of Rivière-du-Loup on the south shore of the St Lawrence River in Québec.

What's more I've travelled into another time zone. All clocks go back an hour now ... and I'm still in the same country - how weird is that?!