Quick notes on radio and Mt. Tremblant

Matt Galloway on Metro Morning as of March 1
I am a big fan of Andy Barrie, current Metro Morning host on CBC Radio One, and his calm but inquisitive style. So, when it was recently announced that Barrie would be "abdicating" the position, I had my suspicions that Matt Galloway, current host of the drive home show, Here and Now, would be his replacement since he was the most frequent substitute for Barrie. It turns out that my fears are correct.
I tend not to listen to Here and Now because, while I find Galloway intelligent, I do not find him engaging. Galloway has a detached air about him that will not be easy to listen to, first thing in the morning. I can only hope that Galloway warms up in his hosting style with his move to Metro Morning.

Mont Tremblant
I visited Mont Tremblant, for the first time, over the weekend and it was amazing. The runs are numerous, lengthy, scenic, and, even on a Saturday, uncongested. While nature has been kind to the area, with spectacular views and perfect snow conditions, the people behind the operation are savvy. From the speedy lifts, to the convenient village retail, to the free parking, everything has been done to prevent stress and foresee to visitors' needs. If Blue Mountain is looking to compete with Mont Tremblant, they have a long way to go.

Hong Kong and Bangkok

We booked our trip to Hong Kong and Bangkok months before we even considered buying a house, so when the day to depart finally arrived, Joe and I were caught unawares in the midst of a bathroom reno. As a result, there was none of the usual anticipation or preparation. Frankly, the whole vacation is a blur of sweating, eating and buying.

A view of Hong Kong from Kowloon side at night.

Hong Kong highlights

• It was refreshing to be in a city of night people. Hong Kong only really comes alive at 10am then goes strong straight into the night, every night. As a result, we felt no guilt about sleeping in before visiting even tourist attractions. Arriving anywhere anytime before noon is a safe bet.
  
• The air quality is terrible in Hong Kong with a constant grey haze hanging over the city. The city is also not good for claustrophobics nor people with high blood pressure what with people rushing all around you on tight streets and an over-abundance of stimulation. I showed my age as what used to energize me now makes me want to sit down and take it easy.
• In the course of a week, we experienced only two sunny days, one of which was spent at the idyllic village of the filthy rich, Stanley. It was great to have public bus access to a tropical beach so close to a world class city like Hong Kong. However, on the overcast 18C days, a good portion of the locals wore winter coats and furry clothing. Meanwhile, Joe and I considered the weather ideal conditions for enjoying our hotel's outdoor pool, having suffered swimming in Canadian lakes in the spring time.
  

The floating market (aka tourist trap on water)

Bangkok highlights

• The high quality and low price of the food is one of the main reasons to visit Bangkok. Even at high end malls, full meals could be had for a few Canadian dollars; eating on the street cost even less. Instead of junk food, locals buy handy grab bags of fresh cut papaya, pineapple, strawberries and whatever else was in season, for less than $1 CAD. This explains why the local population is consistently skinny, even the policemen in their tight black uniforms, regardless of age.
• The locals also demonstrate an amazing sense of style that had nothing to do with labels, though high end designer clothes were readily available. Local designs showed an affinity for draping fabric, which is chic and very in vogue with Western designers. I found myself excitedly buying affordable local designer clothes because they will work as well in Toronto as they do in Bangkok.
• The worst part of Bangkok were the tourists. On the innocuous side of the spectrum were the faux hippies; the brokers and students on vacation who have decided to wear flip flops, wife beaters and dread locks. It marks them out like idiots, considering how stylish and urbane the locals tend to be, no matter what the weather. The more troubling visitors are the sex tourists; the older Western male hanging out with a much younger Thai girl or boy. My visit to Pattaya Beach was marred by repeat sightings of hairy, beer bellied white guys in Speedos, clutching either a beer or a young local. Both kinds of tourists show absolutely no respect for the local populace.

We intend on returning to Hong Kong and Bangkok though our next stay will probably be shorter than a week. Just as Hong Kong customer service has improved considerably in the last decade, in reaction to growing competition from Singapore and Shanghai, Bangkok will have to decide which type of tourist they wish to cater to: wholesome shopaholics like me or hairy sex predators. Make your choice, Bangkok.

Products that work

Nokia E71 - I am of the old school that phones and the internet should not mix but my bigotry was thrown out the window during our recent trip to Hong Kong and Bangkok. Mobile access to free Wi-Fi was a security blanket in exotic lands... or simply a tie over until the next attraction whenever I got bored. In the age of mobile multitasking devices, we need never be ignorant nor bored.

CLR - Watching the calcium deposits build up on my retainers over the past decade has been a nightly source of scientific curiosity and horror. I finally decided to throw caution to the wind and dunk my retainers in CLR. After a half hour soak and some scraping, my retainers are almost as good as new; the sensation of smooth plastic in my mouth is vaguely familiar. Happily, I have not shown any ill effects from placing a CLR treated object in my mouth, and because I never let anything go to waste, that little bowl of CLR solution also lifted the psychological burden of seeing calcium deposits in my kitchen sink, the dish drying rack and the bottom quarter of one shower stall panel.

Dupli-Color Scratch Fix 2 in 1 - Joe and I were recently thrown into a tizzy when I scratched the side of our rental car. It seemed that we would be at the mercy of the rental company when a professional fix appeared far fetched but we decided to gamble $9.99 on a car paint touch up pen. Add some strategically placed mud splotches, and the closest parking job possible to a rental van, and the end result has been savings.

A weekend in Montreal

Thanks to the VIA Rail 60% off mea culpa, I was able to get a discounted ticket to Ottawa in August and Joe and I were able to visit Montréal this past weekend for just over $100 per person.

While the travel time to Montréal was longer than a trip to Ottawa, the experience was more pleasant due to our preassigned seating in Comfort Class. Comfort Class entails more leg room, an overhead compartment that is accessible from your seat (though some passengers still insisted on standing in the aisle while putting away their bags), and better head support. A satellite issue also resulted in complementary Wi-Fi for all passengers, which pretty much guaranteed five hours well wasted.

As usual, Joe and I walked until our feet hurt all three days that we were in Montréal. Here's a brief recap of our tour.

Saturday
Heavy rain and a midday arrival in the city made us decide that we should 'take it easy' but our concept of the phrase differs from most other people. Joe and I had an average brunch, the highlight of which was a half-pint of Boreale beer. I had raved about this brand to Joe after my last visit to Montréal about seven years ago only to be let down by the six pack that I had hauled home for his tasting pleasure. Boreale from the tap still failed to live up to my golden memory, but the bitter taste dissipated with each drink and the aftertaste proved to be very clean.

We explored Rue Sainte-Catherine, starting in the bustling shopping district with all the usual brands (H&M, Futureshop, Old Navy, etc), passed the Université du Québec à Montréal, looked around the student friendly Quartier Latin, then stopped by La Grand Bibliothèque, whose gift shop featured an inordinate amount of Tintin products. Actually, Tintin products could be found throughout Montréal.

That night, instead of going out, we stayed in our hotel room to watch UFC 104. We are ashamed to admit how lame we were but we really enjoyed lying on the king size bed, watching men beat the crap out of each other.

Sunday
We stopped first in Chinatown, which boasted a charming pedestrian only street, and bought some Vietnamese subs for lunch despite the fact that they were more expensive ($3) and less tasty than the equivalents in Toronto. We then spent a whole afternoon exploring Old Montréal's attractive buildings and cobblestone streets. We were pleasantly surprised when Notre-Dame Basilica allowed visitors in during their Sunday service, and Joe was quite impressed with the interior of the church in spite of his pagan ways. When we arrived at the Marché Bonsecours, we inadvertantly came across a bi-annual designer fashion sale, La Grande Braderie de Mode Québécoise. Only in my wildest dreams had I hoped to find Eve Gravel clothing while in Montreal and, without planning to, I bought a skirt that I had been lusting after at a discount!

For dinner, we ate at St-Hubert, a chain that once competed with Swiss Chalet in Toronto but now only reigns supreme in Quebec. Joe had never eaten at St-Hubert so we gave it a try and Joe's conclusion was that it tasted like Swiss Chalet.

Monday

As attractive as Old Montréal had been, I was not been impressed with Downtown Montréal, which featured many 'Louez moi' signs in empty store fronts, and extensive fields of parking lots, where buildings had been torn down. Fortunately, we saved the best for last when we visited the Plateau-Mont-Royal neighbourhood. We had our best meal in the Plateau at Universel Déjeuners et Grillades (3630 Rue St-Denis), which we knew was promising from the large number of hipsters dining there when every other establishment was either closed or empty. The Plateau was a combination of Queen West and the Annex but spread over several blocks. It was great to finally find a vibrant neighbourhood full of local colour, characteristics that were sorely missing in much of Downtown and Old Montréal.

Final thoughts

I found myself happy to be home in Toronto, even after a train ride that lasted two hours longer than it should have. Montréal is similar to Toronto in many ways, superficially because Toronto's fashion sense has caught up. Customer service is pretty much on par with Toronto, which is to say that it was usually mediocre. I'm not sure if part of the reason was that Joe and I are anglophones though that would explain but not excuse the poor service. However, Montréal beats Toronto in some respects; the pedestrians are crazy fast to the point where I found it hard to overtake people in front of me as I usually do back home. Montréal pedestrians have to be fast because Montréal drivers are aggressive, but pedestrians are ready to throw down when necessary, as we witnessed first hand in the middle of Sainte-Catherine. The upside of Montréal's widespread urban decay is the amazing graffiti, which can be found not only in the safety of alleyways but also on main streets. No crappy, half finished black and white tags for Montréal; everything was multi-coloured and energetic.

A weekend in Ottawa

Thanks to VIA Rail's 60% discount mea culpa at the end of their worker's strike, I was able to visit Ottawa over the weekend without having to resort to a Greyhound bus. The train trip was no faster than a bus but it definitely catered to a far classier crowd (read: no drunken dirtbags reading over the shoulder because everyone had a digital device to keep them occupied). The only book that I managed to finish during 10 hours of train travel was Slowness by Milan Kundera, which was, indeed, a slow read in spite of being a slim publication.

I was charmed by the extensive wild park lands throughout Ottawa and the widespread preservation of historical architecture - both of which Toronto tends to lack. I also had the pleasure of experiencing local businesses exclusive to the Ottawa area, which made the city seem a lot further than a five hour drive from Toronto.

Bridgehead - A coffee house along the same vein as Second Cup and Starbucks, except their coffee is all organic, fair trade, and shade grown.

The Works - A gourmet burger joint that offers endless options for both meat eaters and vegetarians; the menu must be seen to be believed. I had the Portobello Mushroom Cap topped with Curry Crunch on a whole wheat bun with a side of sweet potato strings. Delicious!

BeaverTails - These fried dough pastries can be accessed locally through the Canadian National Exhibition and at Blue Mountain in Collingwood, but I will always associate them with skating on the Rideau Canal during Winterlude. However, eating BeaverTails in the Byward Market on a hot summer night is still a great experience.

Lost Marbles and Mrs. Tiggy Winkle's - Lost Marbles is the grown-up kids branch of the Mrs. Tiggy Winkle's toy store. They carry a wide range of clever Fred products as well as KidRobot collectibles. I bought a mystery Futurama figurine for Joe at a Lost Marbles located in The Glebe, an interesting neighbourhood in Ottawa. (Joe got Fry.)

Victoire - A boutique at 246 Dalhousie St. that features the most amazing clothing and accessories. It hurt not to buy anything, but my personal budget has run into the red for months. Victoire's neighbours are also worth checking out: Workshop (242 1/2 Dalhousie), a crafty clothing store, and Young Jane (203 Dalhousie), featuring vintage clothing like its location predecessor, Attic.

My experience of Ottawa did not consist solely of eating and shopping. We enjoyed the free Sound and Light Show on Parliament Hill, which practically poured maple syrup, Mounties and Bryan Adams from the Peace Tower. The propaganda was so insulting that it became fascinating. This was not my first visit to Parliament Hill but it was on this latest trip that I discovered the tiny estate that houses the fat cats. To be clear, I refer to the feral cats that are maintained by volunteers and donations, and not the politicians.

Give in to the ongoing advertising onslaught and visit Ottawa this summer. Strangely enough, Ottawa residents are being encouraged to visit Kingston. One can only speculate where Kingston residents are being funneled to.

Swim training update

As I enter the halfway point of my training schedule for the Toronto Island Give-It-A-Tri, I can cautiously say that I may survive the swim portion of the race. With the Toronto municipal workers strike preventing me from accessing lengthier public pools, I have been swimming up to 212m in my condo's 10m pool. This has done little to build confidence since Lake Ontario will not have a smooth tiled floor to stand on when fatigue sets in.

Fortunately, I was able to swim in Devil Lake during a weekend stay at Pine Haven campground. The grounds are beautifully situated on a narrow strip of land between two lakes, very close to Frontenac Provincial Park. In a mere day, we were able to see a sloth, a blue heron nest, turkey vultures circling around an unseen prey, a loon with a baby on her back, an osprey snatch a fish from the water, and listen to bull frogs at night.

Swimming in the lake was definitely a luxury in spite of the hard work required to stay afloat; the water was clean and refreshing. I was able to do my scheduled 265m swim twice, but resorted to rest stops with the assistance of a flotation noodle a number of times. I also switched from front crawl to backstroke repeatedly. The latter is not a recommended swimming style for a race since you could easily veer off course. My friend, Tony, serving as my lifeguard and guide, screamed "left" and "right" as needed to prevent me from ending up downstream.

Flocons and I are planning to brave a swim in Lake Ontario to continue acclimatizing ourselves to lake conditions. Lake Ontario will probably be less pleasant than Devil Lake but the fear of drowning can prompt one to do crazy things.

Drinking and stumbling

This past weekend, I ran my first race since the Las Vegas Half-Marathon back in December and it was in keeping with my new, lackadaisical attitude towards running. The inaugural Twenty Valley Niagara Wine Country Run offered 21km, 10km and 4km distances and featured wine tasting stations roughly every 2 kms. I was thrilled to have an facsimile of the Marathon du Médoc offered so close to home.

The race atmosphere was the most relaxed that I have ever experienced. Despite claims to the contrary, personal bests are important to racers and competitive posturing is rampant before the gun goes off. Yet, none of the runners that I saw carried gels nor other nutritional supplements and few exhibited quiet intensity at the start line, since the savouring of alcohol already dictated less than ideal racing conditions. Runners joked about boarding the "elite runner's shuttle bus" and asked for recommendations on which wine went well with Gatorade. The route's scenic rolling hills prompted many runners to simply walk the inclines, especially after leaving a wine tasting station.

The only complaint that I have about the race was the time of day that it took place. Since alcohol cannot be legally served before 11am, all races started at roughly that time. Much of the route was unshaded and it was a hard run under the midday sun with alcohol sloshing in the system. My personal preference would be for the race to be scheduled in the evening, though that may be too much of an inconvenience from organizational and marketing points of view.

The night before the run, we stayed at Silver Birches by-the-Lake Bed and Breakfast. Besides being conveniently located, the hospitality was superb and the amenities demonstrated owners, Paul and Leah Padfield's attention to detail. One benefit of the late race start was that it allowed us the leisure to enjoy the hearty breakfast, which is not normally recommended before a race but provided a good foundation for the wine sampling to come.

Definitely a very enjoyable weekend of bacchanalian athleticism.

Kichadi and Iceland - The End

Technically, I'm supposed to continue my Kichadi Fast until Saturday but I intend on breaking my fast tonight with dinner. It will not be steak or something fried because I have been advised to ease back into regular food. However, even a salad sounds like flavour country right now.

I do recommend the Kichadi Fast to others, if only to gauge how many calories you consume when taste is taken out of the equation. I do not recommend visiting friends for a home cooked meal while on the Kichadi Fast. If there was a low point of this past week, that would definitely have been it (I am so sorry, Fiona).

A final note on Iceland: I mentioned previously how aloof Icelanders can be and our Hotel Bjork concierge, Oddur, was a perfect example of this. He failed to smile when we arrived and was initially all business, but was soon engaged in an ongoing joke about his perpetual presence at the front desk in the most hilariously deadpan manner. By the end, we were selling Canada to him as a vacation destination and he seemed genuinely interested. I must remember to seal the deal by sending him a Canadiana postcard.

eg tala ekki islensku - Part 3

Þingvellir

I am only on the first day of my one week Kichadi fast and, already, I am regretting my public commitment to this endeavor. I am kind of hungry but the Kichadi is so tasteless that I shudder at the thought of eating it. Maybe if I think of Iceland, I can stave off insanity...

The ultimate guided tour

I have never been a fan of bus tours so when the opportunity to explore Iceland in a jeep presented itself, we took it - hefty price tag be damned. Our party of four was picked up at 9:00 in the morning by Lully, our guide, and fellow passenger, David, an elderly man. When David mistook us for Americans, we tried to return the favour by guessing that he was Welsh, but we got it right so we all laughed for the wrong reason.

Our first stop was Þingvellir, the site of Iceland's first parliament in 930 AD, and where the European and American plates meet. It was beautiful, to be sure, with the crystal clear water and a range of mountains in the background, but I found myself disappointed by the many tour buses that accompanied us.

Our next stop were the hot springs. We had all brought our swimsuits, David included, but were informed by Lully that the water bubbled out of the ground at 100C. Sure enough, steam filled the area like a heavy fog. The hot springs were followed by a visit to some volcanic waterfalls, where water poured, seemingly, out of the ground. Both sites were interesting to see, and less heavily visited than Þingvellir, but they did feel like accessible tourist sites.

I must admit that the prospect of visiting Langjökull glacier, our next stop, did not excite me. My previous experience with glaciers was in Alberta, and they were comparable to a dirty snow parking lot for mega-wheel tour buses. However, as we approached the glaciers, Lully told us that Neil Armstrong had used the surrounding landscape to simulate a walk on the moon and it was easy to see why. The volcanic rock created an alien environment and the remoteness of the region was otherworldly.

Lully's jeep climbed 1000m above sea level before it became mired in the snow that covered the glacier, and we were forced to stop. Surrounded by nothing but snow, there was no visual cue to indicate how far the summit was. We made a go at it, running up the mountain through the snow, but could only chart our feeble progress by looking back at the parked jeep. Lully seemed concerned by our behaviour as we continued giddily on; Joe decided to roll down the mountain then I attempted to do some yoga moves. Photos fail to do the glacier justice but believe me when I say that we were inspired by beauty, and not oxygen deprivation.

Climbing down into a volcanic cave did not quite measure up to the glacier but was still off the beaten path and wonderfully unsafe. Lully provided us with helmets and headlights but, otherwise, trusted us to climb over jagged, icy rock in low light conditions unassisted. 100m into the cave, we turned off our lights and found ourselves in complete darkness. It was unnerving to think of what would have happened if technology failed us and panic did its work.

Like spent children, we passed out during the return to Reykjavik. Lully was still peppy, perhaps fueled by his numerous snacks. His sweet nature was definitely the cherry on top of the best tour that I have ever been on. Well worth the credit card bill that met us on our return to reality.

eg tala ekki islensku - Part 2 (+ Kichadi Fast prediction)

And, now, more about Iceland...

Tastes different

In my last blog entry, I mentioned how great the tap water in Iceland was. I just finished my stash of Icelandic tap water last night, fearing that it might become stale if I left it bottled up for too long. I savoured it like fine wine and tried to memorize the flavour: slightly sweet, very smooth, untouched by chlorine.

Our food experience in Iceland was similarly excellent. We ate fresh seafood until we feared the onset of gout. Lobster was readily available at all restaurants but their small size surprised us; the lobster tails were no longer than 4 inches. Of course, fish was also a staple of the local menus as was lamb, which I ordered repeatedly. Three highlights of our eating frenzy were:

1. Sandholt bakery on Laugavegur - their pastries and smoked salmon sandwiches were a comfort to us on our first wet and cold day in Reykjavik

2. Bæjarins beztu pylsur - a hot dog stand by the waterfront that has served Bill Clinton. The sausage itself is a blend of pork and lamb. Toppings included remolaði, a mayonnaise-based sauce with sweet relish, and fried onions.

3. The Sea Baron - owned by a former fisherman, various seafood shish-kebabs are grilled on demand. This was where we ate Minke Whale and realized that whale tastes like steak. It was a revelation because we had expected whale to taste like fish, or the standard fallback, chicken. The lobster soup was also very flavourful.

To the horror of many, we made a point of eating at the only McDonald's in Reykjavik, located in Kringlan Shopping Centre, one of only two malls in town. Kringlan was like any other suburban mall, catering to teenyboppers and their parents, and our McDonald's meal was similarly underwhelming in taste. What did thrill us was the gender specific packaging; only the nutritional information for women was displayed (see photo at the top). We could only speculate that if a male consumer buys a meal, then he gets the male packaging with corresponding nutritional information. Inefficient and fascinating.

Obviously, I broke my weekday vegetarian routine while in Iceland. In an attempt to make up for my vacation, I will be undergoing the Kichadi Fast for a week. This diet sent friends on a meat frenzy after a mere three days but prompted them to change their eating habits nonetheless. I am going to speculate that I will be able to last the seven days and be a ray of sunshine throughout.

Bitchy blog entries about Iceland to come.

eg tala ekki islensku - Part 1

Gullfoss waterfall

We're back from Iceland and we loved it. We did our bit for the Icelandic economy though we have very little to show for it in terms of materials items; the majority of our funds were spent on food and experiences.

In an attempt to curb anecdotal diarrhea, and prevent readers' eyes from glazing over, I will try to bunch my stories under subject lines.

Icelanders are different.
We knew that we had entered a new country as soon as we boarded our Icelandair plane. Not only were the air stewards and stewardesses perfect Aryan specimens (blonde, blue eyed, about 6 feet tall), but the women wore the jaunty stewardess caps of old and one even wore 4 inch stilettos (!). The music selection on Icelandair was also hipper than that of any airline I have ever flown with: it featured homegrown stars like Bjork and Sigur Ros, but also Mark Ronson, MGMT, and Radiohead. And they kept the entertainment units going even as we landed, as opposed to shutting them down half an hour before landing, forcing passengers to focus on the descent without distraction, like other airlines. So, I landed in Keflavík International Airport while listening to "15 Steps" from In Rainbows (sweet!).

During the rest of the trip, we found Icelanders to be standoffish but usually willing to assist and enthusiastic about International cuisine - not unlike Torontonians. However, unlike in Toronto, service does not require tipping, and they do not believe in price gauging. Once engaged in conversation, Icelanders tended to have a dry sense of humour. Residents of downtown Reykjavik were unbelievably stylish, even the parents of young children, who were dressed in equally covetible multicoloured outfits. They have clearly given up on dressing for the weather, which dictates a waterproof jacket and layers. Instead, residents pranced around in leather jackets and stylish high heels, putting my practicality to shame.

Strokkur geysir

Nature dominates in Iceland
As cosmopolitan as the locals are, they number at around 320,000, making them no match for mother nature. The weather changes rapidly throughout the day, going from bright sun to pelting wind and rain within hours. Umbrellas are rarely used by anyone. On the plus side, Icelanders enjoy cheap utilities due to geothermal heating and glacial springs. The water from the tap tastes like spring water and is not chlorinated; neither are their geothermic public swimming pools, which thus require all users to scrub their nether regions vigorously prior to entry.

Largely untouched and uninhabited, the landscape of Iceland is breathtaking. Within an hour's drive of Reykjavik, one can experience expansive grassy plains or volcanic fields covered in thick moss, surrounded by rows of mountains. One of my best experiences was visiting the Langjökull glacier, which unlike the Canadian glaciers, was pristine and virtually untouched by visitors; the feeling of having such a majestic view all to ourselves made me giddy, though that could have been attributed to being 1km above sea level. More popular and accessible tourist attractions like Gullfoss waterfall and the nearby geysirs, were also unmarred by human contact. Living close to a international landmark like Niagara Falls, we were blasé about seeing any waterfall, but were pleasantly surprised to find out that Gullfoss is elegantly multi-tiered. Plus, we were able to get closer to these dangerous demonstrations of mother nature's power than we ever would back home. A mere string, hung one foot off the floor, politely suggests where tourists should stop. However, if a tourist wanted to get closer to the powerful plunging water or receive a 100C jet of water to the face, they are free to do so.

That's more copy than two subject lines would suggest, so more on Iceland in the next blog entry.

PS, "eg tala ekki islensku," meaning "I don't speak Icelandic," was printed on a t-shirt that I bought shortly after landing in Keflavík International Airport. Strangely enough, the best deals in Reykjavik were to be found at the Airport. For an explanation, please refer to 'Icelanders are different' above.

Here I come to save the day

I'll be taking off to save Iceland's economy shortly. That means no blogging for the next while but non-stop anecdotes about Iceland coming soon.

As usual, I would like to warn prospective thieves that I have a nervous house sitter who plays with knives.

The One of a Kind Spring Show is coming!

The second most anticipated shopping event on my calendar is almost here! The One of a Kind Spring Show runs April 1-5, 2009 at the Direct Energy Centre.

As usual, I'll be checking out Eve Gravel for her latest Spring/Summer collection. I am eyeing the Coocoo's Nest dress (seen on the left), but everything must be seen and worn to be believed.

Otherwise, I'm not sure what will prompt me to spend money. The Spring Show is smaller than the Christmas one and there is less of an altruistic angle to the consumerism due to the absence of gift giving in the Easter tradition. Plus, I am constantly reminded by Joe of my promise to save Iceland's economy with my wallet in late April.

The OOAK also has some stiff competition for the buying power of lazy but technologically savy craft buyer with Etsy: Your place to buy and sell all things homemade. I discovered this website while peering over the shoulder of a fellow student during a computer workshop. As everyone else practiced changing font colours, the craft enthusiast browsed cute craft items. It certainly looked more relaxing than fighting baby strollers in the aisles of the OOAK. However, come Saturday, May 16, Etsy will enter the real world with the Etsy Handmade Market, to be held at hipster hangout, the Gladstone Hotel (1214 Queen St. W.)

OOAK organizers will probably attribute any drop in numbers to the economic downturn , but, as usual, the Internet and Iceland are partially to blame.

Prelude to a lynching

We knew that Iceland's economy was in the crapper when we decided to take advantage of a seat sale from Icelandair and book an island vacation. Then, we find out today that Iceland's coalition government has collapsed. There is already a move to form an interim government until elections can be held in May.

Hopefully, this will quelch Icelandic rage until the elections, lest the locals turn on Canadian tourists, especially a particular group of ethnic people that will include at least one Jew.

Viva Las Vegas

Fed up with running in the dark, cold Toronto winter, I signed up for the Las Vegas Half-Marathon (December 7, 2008) in a bid to take advantage of my training for the Toronto Waterfront Half-Marathon (September 28, 2008). It turns out that I had overestimated my will to train over the two months that separate the events but the latter race was an excuse to go to Las Vegas so all was not lost.

Our trip to Las Vegas showed signs of being auspicious when we walked past George Stroumboulopoulos at Pearson Airport. The surreal sight of tiny George carrying his home on his back was matched only by the guy doing yoga in the waiting area of our departure gate. Yoga guy gave the exercise a bad name with his weak extensions and socks like swiss cheese. Eventually, he ceased embarrassing yogis everywhere by stopping to buy himself a hamburger.

After a plane ride during which passengers decided to start the party early by acting half their age, we arrived in Las Vegas to find ourselves surrounded by cowboys: the National Finals Rodeo was in town (December 4-13, 2008). One would think that participants in the upcoming marathon would be harder to identify than rodeo enthusiasts but it turns out that runners wear a uniform, too. Attendees of the Quality of Life Expo, where racers pick up their race packs, wore their running shoes, and even their technical t-shirts and shorts in order to, literally, run into the convention centre. It was as if runners were incapable of putting on any pedestrian outfit that would not allow them to exercise their cardio at a moment's notice.

Joe and I were not slaves to our running gear and we proceeded to punish our arches by walking in fashion shoes for eight hours a day during the first two days of our trip. As usual, we were driven by our slavish need to see everything, and on the second day, our need to exercise our rights as consumers at the Las Vegas Premium Outlets. Among the amazing deals that we could not pass up:

• Calvin Klein Merino Sweaters - originally $59.99, reduced to $26.99

• Armani Exchange Shirt Dress - originally $120.00, reduced to $49.00

• Theory Melinda Patent Leather Flat Shoes - originally $295.00, reduced to $59.00

• Polo Ralph Lauren Cashmere Blend Peacoat - originally $425.00, reduced to $69.99

We arrived at Premium Outlets at 10am and expected to be finished by early afternoon. We left feeling a mix of delight and dismay at 5pm. As we watched the sun set from the outlet mall's taxi queue, Joe exclaimed, "I can't believe we spent the whole day here." The couple in front of us chimed in with their own disbelief and we soon discovered that we were flanked by Canadians, or more specifically, Albertans - two parties in front and one couple behind us. We ended up sharing a cab with the couple who were also in Las Vegas for the half-marathon, and not for the rodeo as one might assume of visitors from Canada's Lone Star province.

The Albertans were the ones to warn us to allot at least 30 minutes to arrive at the start line of the race, and not the 15 minutes that I had planned. It turned out to be good advice as the race corral was a mess. Runners were simply divided into two categories: elite and everyone else, which meant that marathon runners, half-marathon runners, walkers, wheel chair racers, and baby joggers all ran circles around each other in a bid for room. With a whopping 13,000 participants, there were bound to be people who were not familiar with running etiquette. Sure enough, some racers recreated their version of local attraction, the Hoover Dam by walking in the middle of the race course, companionably side by side, forcing runners to dash around them or wait patiently for a fissure in the wall to break through.

However, the frustration of dealing with race neophytes was easy to ignore in the first 10km with the spectacle of the start line fire works, Robin Leach, and the fully lit Vegas Strip to distract us. And by the time the race route wove through desolate downtown Las Vegas in the second half of the half-marathon course, slower racers had fallen away allowing runners an unobstructed view of the seedy motel apartments and their listless occupants.

During the race, the temperature was an ideal 5C with only a moderate breeze and an overcast sky. The only fly in the ointment was the dryness of the desert, which remained even in the absence of any heat. It amazed me to see the line up for the porto-potties along the route since it took a few hours after the end of the race before I even heard nature's call.

Before the run, Joe and I had already begun indulging ourselves with two McDonald's meals in a row and this continued with a crusade to In-N-Out Burger the day after the race. Although the In-N-Out Burger was located well within walking distance, it was a challenge to cross a passive aggressive freeway overpass that forced pedestrians down serpentine walkways under bridges or mislead them onto disappearing sidewalks, in order to reach the fast food outlet. In the end, it was worth it because In-N-Out Burger is simply amazing.

With the exception of shopping and fast food, Joe and I failed to take advantage of other Las Vegas past times like drinking alcohol in public places (in my case, not at all) or gambling (we lost $20). One Las Vegas staple that we managed to score cheap tickets for was Cirque de Soleil's KÀ. We had high hopes for the show but were ultimately disappointed by the overly convoluted production and the uncharitable show producers.

Robert LePage, the show's creator, is reknowned for his technically clever theatre productions but his stage mechanics overshadow the human performers of KÀ. In fact, the only moments during which KÀ succeeded in mesmerizing us were when the skill of the performers was the sole feature on stage: a pas de deux of hand shadow puppets, a solo performance using a pair of batons, and the circus classic, the Wheel of Death. Technical difficulties caused a whole act to loop for what seemed like an eternity before grinding to a halt when it became clear to the performers that they could not stall any longer. The audience were encouraged to go out for intermission while the crew attempted to fix the convoluted equipment and when the show reconvened, a new scene began without explanation. The audience had clapped in support of the performers before the intermission, but, by the end of the show, the applause was less enthusiastic. There was no offer by the management of a partial refund or a rain check for another showing.

On our last day, we were lucky enough to catch the re-launch of the Mirage Volcano. We arrived early enough to position ourselves behind a short couple and therefore, had a nearly unobstructed view of the new volcano, featuring more explosive 'lava', a frantic drum soundtrack, and unexplainable dancing flames shooting out from the water. When the volcano's encore performance came shortly afterwards, Joe and I were lucky enough to be standing on the road median and therefore had a long view of the fireworks (photo seen above).

Leaving Las Vegas meant traveling with a crowd similar to the yahoos that we traveled to Las Vegas with and, of course, another celebrity sighting. Mike "Pinball" Clemons arrived in Las Vegas just as we were departing, and was chased down by the most stereotypical team of Canadian football players: the non-stop talker, the strip club patron, the guy who just got engaged with his longtime girlfriend, who tagged along for the trip but was kept at arm's length by the other guys because she did not look like Tila Tequila. As luck would have it, Joe and I were seated directly in front of the motor mouth and some of his friends. We feared a red eye descent into hell when one stewardess engaged in the most psychotic safety demonstration I have ever seen, to the hoots and hollers of the football players. Fortunately for Joe and me, the immaturity of the football team encompassed a childlike predisposition to pass out once the lights are turned down. We returned to Toronto, grateful that the cold weather culls the local population of roaming, drunken frat boys and overly ripe women teetering on stiletto heels.

San Diego 2008 recap

Now that the Olympics are over, it is back to the regularly scheduled program of my never ending story about San Diego.

After the frustration of Comic Con 2008, we were eager to explore other attractions in San Diego, especially since Flocons and Royal had never been there.

La Jolla

Described in travel guides as a beautiful, retirement mecca, La Jolla was deemed car rental worthy by all. We arrived at 9am and already found it difficult but not impossible to park the car. Impossible came later, at noon, when one driver was willing to wait patiently for half an hour to take over our space.

The majority of La Jolla beaches consisted of narrow strips of sand with an overhang of cliffs. The crashing waves were impressive but hardly conducive to swimming. We settled on La Jolla Cove (seen above), which was very popular with snorklers. Even with our two swim goggles, shared between five people, and spit on by Alex, we could easily see the vivid Orange Garibaldi fish, the size of one's hand, as well as some smaller, unknown silver fish.

Mission Beach

In spite of its beauty, Joe and I did not like La Jolla as much as Mission Beach. With some coaxing, we convinced our friends to visit Mission Beach after a stopover at Roadrunner Sports and In-N-Out Burger, and they were not disappointed. On a side note, the Roadrunner Sports located in San Diego was purportedly the biggest running shoe store in North America but was seriously understaffed and understocked. Alex and Flocons ordered the 4X4 Burger from the secret menu at In-N-Out Burger and claimed to feel okay afterwards, blaming only the cheese for the time they served in the washroom later.

Mission Beach is a more traditional beach than La Jolla Cove, to be sure, but even with the high pedestrian traffic, the sand was clean and there was no sense of exclusivity. While strolling on the boardwalk, we took note of the websites for the rental units facing the beach and seriously dreamed of preparing food while watching a flat screen TV, like that guy with the open glass wall that we stared at from the boardwalk.

Many locals choose to take the public bus to Mission Beach in spite of the fact that parking is readily available. Later in our trip, we returned to Mission Beach by public bus (a mere 17 minute ride) to take surfing lessons. Our Surfari instructor knew he had his job cut out when he realized that none of us skateboarded nor snowboarded nor swam very well. He patiently guided us individually while the rest struggled to walk their boards into the waves, buffeted back one step for every two we advanced. I managed to 'pop up' with the instructor's assistance and I can now confidently say that I could not surf if my life depended on it.

Balboa Park

Joe and I had chosen to skip the San Diego Air & Space Museum during our last visit but it became our first destination this time around thanks to Star Trek: The Exhibition. Clearly a trap aimed at Comic Con attendees, we ran in gleefully when it opened at 10:00am. This exhibition was superior to one we had experienced in Las Vegas thanks to the many set recreations including the bridge of the original Enterprise, Picard's quarters, the hallway of the Enterprise D and the Transporter Room. We yucked it up while Royal covered her face in shame when she wasn't being forcibly posed in photographs that we later paid $15 each for.

The only other stop on our Balboa Park excursion was the San Diego Zoo. Flocons and Royal have a 'taste' for panda and, therefore, made a point of lining up to see them. Joe and I reluctantly joined them and were rewarded with a better view of the pandas than our last visit (see below).

All in all, a very enjoyable visit to San Diego, Comic Con 2008 notwithstanding. A bonus for vegetarians: San Diego restaurants offer a wide range of veggie burgers that are tasty. Minus for food connoisseurs: there are few true 'ethnic' food options.

Next up: my never ending story of our trip to San Francisco!

Comic Con 2008 recap

As hinted at in my previous blog entry, I did not enjoy this year's Comic Con as much as the 2006 edition. In short, the desirable panels were inundated by attendees due to a lack of overall quality, a theory that Alex supports. I also suspect that there were more attendees in 2008 than in 2006 since the exhibition hall was hard to walk comfortably through from Wednesday to Saturday with the exception of Sunday.

In two incidences, I can blame the exhibitors directly for creating a bad situation. The Warner Bros. booth handed out free bags and instigated a stampede. Rather than relieve what was becoming a safety hazard, the Warner Bros. vendors created a bottle neck by insisting that attendees pick up the bags at a narrow stretch of counter space. It is understandable that Warner Bros. did not want flailing arms to knock over displays on the counter but they should have foreseen the freebie frenzy and been better prepared. People who had obtained a free bag had to fight their way out of the surging crowd, rugby style.

A second horrible freebie experience was with Imagi Studios and Summit Entertainment, who were promoting the new AstroBoy movie by handing out a free AstroBoy bag. Rather than simply giving out the bags like every other vendor, Imagi Studios and Summit Entertainment forced everyone to wait in a line and chant "AstroBoy" at regular intervals. We had waited for 30 minutes when I asked the lead cheerleader what we were waiting for. The lead cheerleader first chose to mock me with, "You don't even know what you're lining up for?" Then, when I had clarified my question, she chose to ignore it and instead, handed me the AstroBoy bag she had been waving provocatively at the lineup, and asked, "Are you happy now?" By her defensive stance and lack of explanation, I can only assume that we were being forced to sing and dance for our payoff, much like minstrels. We left soon after and I gave my AstroBoy bag away because it was ill-begotten loot.

The few panels that we were able to get into, because I was not willing to line up for hours beforehand, were entertaining enough. "The Comedy Central TV Funhouse" panel with Robert Smigel, Dino Stamatopoulos and Tommy Blacha was pretty funny though they all came across as competitive geeks. When Doug Dale showed up via webcam, it got even better as Dale used a variety of props to protest being ignored (i.e. miming a genial conversation with a Lambchop puppet or chewing on an egg that suddenly produces a new friend). It made me sad though that Dale could not make it in person to Comic Con because he was now a music teacher and therefore, had unglamorous responsibilities.

Immediately after the TV Funhouse panel was the "10th Annual Superhero Kung-Fu Extravaganza" hosted by Martial Arts movie academic, Ric Meyers. This panel produced an unexpected gem in Mark Zaror (seen on the left), the South American martial arts star of Chinango, a movie that featured two gratuitous masturbation scenes and whose rental my friends have never forgiven me for. I was clearly one of few people in the audience who knew who he was so I am regretful that I did not ask him about Chinango even though he was promoting Kiltro.

Also entertaining for all the wrong reasons was the live broadcast of the Masquerade on Saturday evening. This was the live remote screening of the Masquerade for people who were either not able or not willing to obtain tickets for the actual event venue. Because none of the masquerade participants could hear us, the remote screening audience resorted to heckling early on. Three themes emerged from the masquerade entries:

1. Skin show - Young flesh seemed to make up for many an uninspired costume. This became entertaining when one Emma Frost wannabee ended up revealing the stuffing in her chest while one mannish jungle queen's outfit prompted one of the emcees to quip, "I love the Masquerade!"

2. All's well that ends with a dance - No matter how stiffly you may dance as a result of your costume or your natural lack of rhythm, you will end your stint on the stage with pelvic gyrations to "I'm Too Sexy" or another equally overused joke song.

3. The never ending story - One of the worst entries was a group of vikings whose costumes were lackluster but whose showmanship was on par with a kindergarten recital. For over five minutes, the vikings danced poorly to an inexplicable selection of contemporary songs. This marathon of mediocrity was matched only by the half-time show, "Heroes vs. Villains: A Battle Royale," which was supposed to be a martial arts demonstration. It ended up being a soap opera with an indecipherable storyline and dialogue, and very little action. This was the point at which Joe and I, as well as the majority of the remaining audience, decided to call it a day.

All was not lost at Comic Con 2008. The costumes outside of the Masquerade, a small selection seen below, were actually pretty impressive. One Batman, whose outfit I sadly did not photograph, was fully committed to his role. At the panels that he attended, he would alternately growl, "Swear to me!" or "Be quiet!" at other attendees. He also stood up and spread his cape whenever he was referred to by the panelists. This approach to cosplay is definitely preferable to the serious and self-conscious display some attendees offered.

My trip to San Diego ended up being made worthwhile by activities outside of Comic Con 2008. More on San Diego and my trip to San Francisco coming up!

Possibly never again

I hate to be one of those many idiots at Comic Con who blog about Comic Con as it is happening, but in my defence, it is 7am local time and I have access to free internet at my hotel.

I have not enjoyed Comic Con 2008 and this can be blamed entirely on the organizers who over sold their membership badges. The simple act of walking within a block of the San Diego Convention Center, much less inside the actual building, has been an exercise in road rage. It feels much like being in the hottest club in town on a Saturday night except the clubbers are wider or carrying huge bags or pushing strollers.

If this was my first experience of Comic Con, I might well accept this experience as par for course. The problem is that I have my amazing 2006 experience to refer to. In 2006, the event was busy but not crazy. I was able to easily get into highly coveted events like a discussion by Stan Lee and John Romita Sr., and the "Battlestar Galatica" panel. Alex even ran into Joss Whedon. This year, extreme lineups prevented me from getting anywhere near Joss Whedon's event, and I was also barred from seeing Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright for the same reason. On the plus side, I saw the actor who starred in South American martial arts film, Chinango.

Nerds are waiting behind me, eager to also type about their experiences so I will end this blog entry here. I can only hope that organizers will wade through the many gushing blog entries and heed the warning that is featured in this one: lower your attendance numbers or expect them to be lowered for you.

Excitement unlimited coming soon

Tomorrow is my last day of work before I take off for a week of fandom madness!

Joe and I have purchased advance tickets to see The Dark Knight. We were tempted by the 3:00am (!) screening on Friday morning but decided to go for the much more sensible 10:30pm showing on Sunday night. We hope that this choice weeds out children and anyone with a job.

Then, later this week, we return to Comic Con in San Diego. After our great experience in 2006, we whimpered like puppies last summer because we were not at Comic Con, so we are happy to finally give in to our urges. This time, we are wiser:

• stay in a hotel that is walking distance from the San Diego Convention Centre
• plan ahead by looking over the events schedule and merchandise lists
• bring snacks so that we do not have to endure 12 hours of starvation like Alex did in protest over convention food prices
• bring a sweater because the convention centre is kept like a meat locker
• do not go to Tijuana

Flocon and his partner, Royal Pinguo, decided to join us after we enticed them with our magical stories...and because they have friends to visit in Orange County. Surprisingly, it was Royal who suggested that we dress up for Comic Con.

Flocons proposed Dogwelder (seen as a puppet on the right), a hero so obscure that only true fan boys will be able to smugly appreciate the costume. Other ideas included Jedi knights, Star Trek officers, and nudity but nothing has come to fruition.

Now, with less than a week to go, I am scrambling to find something. After rummaging through my closet, I see only three options:

Burger King - My Burger King mask, which I got for free with coupon, is truly great. Creepy and made of sturdy plastic, it served me well on Halloween at the office. It sits patiently in my cupboard at work, waiting to be called into action again.

Anne of Green Gables - The Anne of Green Gables hat and wig combo, modeled by my friend Stephen on the right, was brought all the way back from Prince Edward Island for me by Flocons and Royal. The Japanese know comics, having a whole genre (manga) to call their own. They also love Anne of Green Gables and made an anime version of the classic novel. Plus, 2008 is the centenary of the publishing of Anne of Green Gables. This is making more and more sense as I type!

Platinum blond wig - There is no easy explanation for the photograph on the left but a platinum blond wig offers many possibilities: Emma Frost, Betty Cooper, or Jedi Knight? Why not all at the same time?

Delightful anecdotes are guaranteed in the next blog entry, even if I have to lie.

P.S. To would be thieves, I have a house sitter who collects knives, enjoys sitting in the dark, and has a nervous twitch. Think about it.

Comic Con - here I come!

Two years ago, I went to Comic Con and loved it. In fact, last year, my friends and I went into withdrawal during the month of July because we were not in San Diego.

It is funny that one of the most effective ways to bring back all my Comic Con memories is to listen to Cassie's "Me & U", which was played on the radio every half hour. I wish I was exaggerating.

So, we've decided to go back to Comic Con in 2008. I am happy to take on some challenges again from anyone who cares to see me suffer in California. In the meantime, here's some Cassie.