The only polar bear I saw was this stone one
If you pick up Manitoba’s brochure on Churchill, don’t be fooled like I was. It states the highest probability of spying polar bears is in November but that’s not true.
Reading that piece of information, I booked a journey to Churchill towards the end of November only to discover when I then made enquiries about a tour, everything finished on November 18th! Once Hudson Bay froze over, the bears started to hunt. I found nothing on this date in the brochure yet every tourist operation in Churchill was aware of the time line. Continue reading A Warning to Churchill Visitors
I flew over Greenland, landing in Manchester.
It was 21 degrees on the Manchester Piccadilly platform when I arrived from the airport. With the announcement of each train’s destination and subsequent stops, the rail employee reminded us about not smoking. The addicts ignored her, puffing away at the end of the platform while an attendant cleared garbage off the cement floor. Continue reading Impressions from a train – Manchester to Liverpool
After lingering in Carcross, we finally boarded the train and were off, passing kilometre upon kilometre of Bennett Lake. When we reached the end of Lindeman Lake, the train stopped because this was where gold miners built their canoes then paddled upstream heading for Dawson City, in the direction I had come from. Continue reading By train from Carcross to Lindeman Lake
I returned the car I rented in Whitehorse and bused to Carcross. On the way, the driver stopped at Emerald Lake where a chemical on the shallow lake’s floor along with sunshine, caused the iridescent greens. Continue reading Carcross – last Yukon stop
Penang Hill — Photo courtesy: Hzh — Wikimedia Commons
As a child, I remember a neighbour’s oldest son, talking about Butterworth. He was a pilot who’d once been stationed there, so when we took a train up Penang Hill, we could see Georgetown below and across the sea, Butterworth on the mainland. Continue reading Childhood Flashback on Penang Hill
Jogjakarta was the highlight of the Java trip both for my daughter and me but getting there was a nightmare. It was the Christmas weekend. Not a problem in Muslim Indonesia, I thought. Wrong. Continue reading Christmas in a Muslim country
Photo courtesy: Honzasoupup Wikimedia Commons
As I read letters I wrote to my sister, there’s another gem I had completely forgotten: the pace of Indian trains. I’m sure they’re faster now, but when I was in India in the seventies, they were as slow as peak hour traffic. Continue reading In letters from the past: Indian trains
Indian train toilet — Photo courtesy: Loganathan R. — Wikimedia Commons
I spied a photograph on line of a father holding his son as he sat on the window ledge of a train. His pants hung around one shin, the bottom half of his body naked, as he peed down the side of the train. Continue reading Thank you India