Good to know

Pretty impressive, good to know, welcome to Harvard

Pretty impressive
I was sitting up in bed the following morning listening to the new episode of The Now Show on the radio when there was a knock at my door. Stephen poked his head round the door and asked if I fancied going whale watching with him & Robin. I jumped at the chance. We got in the car and drove north from Boston to Gloucester passing Wakefield, Reading, Manchester and Essex. There is something oddly unsettling about passing through places with English names in completely the wrong order like that.

  

 

We picked up our tickets for the afternoon boat trip and then continued a little further up the coast for a walk round Rockport. Rockport is a quaint little town on the coast, surrounded on three sides by the Atlantic. The harbour side is a nice mix of galleries for local artists, cafés and fishing huts. We called in to a shop called Fudgery, which had been a backdrop in some Sandra Bullock film – they had photos of her up on the walls. I stated laughing at a couple of signs that read “Our fudge melts in your mouth, not in our box” and “We have elephant ears”. For a 33 year old I really do find the most childish things amusing. We had lunch in Rockport, some amazingly fresh seafood, while sitting out in the sun, overlooking the harbour. I stayed outside while Robin and Stephen ordered – I don’t like seeing my lunch still alive in the tank.

After lunch we drove back down to Gloucester to the whale watching place and queued to get on the boat. The queue seemed to be mostly Americans, a couple of whom were on the slightly larger size. I whispered to Stephen that the whale watching had already started. The captain took us through the safety procedures and explained that we would probably need to sail for about 90 minutes before we got to where the whales were expected to be feeding. I settled myself into a seat on the sunny side of the deck next to a mother and daughter who chatted to me for a while, pointing out various sights and landmarks. She pointed out the greasy pole, used for the greasy pole contest. I managed to not laugh like a schoolgirl.

After nearly two hours of seeing nothing but sea I was beginning to think that the day might be a complete bust and that we wouldn’t get to see anything. However, we were rewarded shortly after with the most spectacular sight of a mother and her calf, feeding and playing in the waters right next to us. It was breath taking. The grace with which they moved through the water was amazing. I was glad of the pap mode on my SLR and a large memory card as getting photos of them was not the easiest thing in the world. I knew that I would probably end up with several hundred photos of nothing but the sea and maybe a few dozen shots of the whales but it would be worth it if I could capture the beauty of the animals. After a while following the whales around we headed back to shore, very contented.

Good to know

We had another great seafood dinner at a place called Latitude 43 before driving back to Cambridge.  After a very quick shower and change (under 20 minutes – who says gays spend ages getting ready?), Stephen & I headed over to some friends of his for their housewarming party. Stephen introduced me to some of the other guest he knows from singing in the Gay Men’s Chorus. They asked about my trip and where I had been so far. The list of places to tell people I have been to is getting longer and longer. I am going to get to a point where I might not be able to remember them all.

I pointed out a guy at the party that I quite fancied, Stephen didn’t know who he was so couldn’t introduce me. I chatted to Stephen and his friends for a while before making my way over to the guy in question. He was chatting with a couple of people so I joined their little group and got in on the conversation. After a while I found myself chatting one on one with the guy I fancied. He asked who I knew at the party and I explained about my trip & pointed out Stephen as my current host. The first thing he said to me was “Your friend is really cute”. Bugger, so much for me spending a night flirting with an attractive guy and maybe getting a snog at the end of the night. I really have to work on my flirting technique.

John Harvard

Welcome to Harvard

The next day I took myself up to Harvard in the morning while Stephen and Robin went over to their friend Mathieu’s place to help set everything up for a birthday barbecue for Stephen later that afternoon. Harvard was bustling with tourists and students and a charming little place to wander around. I read up about the statue of John Harvard, also called the statue of the three lies. The inscription on it simply reads “John Harvard, Founder, 1638” despite the fact that he was only a contributor to setting up the university and not its founder; Harvard was founded in 1636 not 1638; and the statue is a likeness of someone else. Apparently it is good luck to rub his left foot, although I didn’t do that as I had also read that by night the Harvard students like to pee on the statue, knowing that tourists will be rubbing the foot for luck in the morning.

Mathieu was hosting the soirée as he had an amazing roof terrace with stunning views across Boston. Some of the same people from the party the night before were in attendance, which really tested my ability to remember names. The cute guy from the previous night, however, was not one of the guests. Stephen, being a Brit, had got Pimm’s for the party. Hardly any of the Americans in attendance at the party had tried Pimm’s before. It really showed some differences between the Brits and the Yanks.  Firstly, they insist on calling the drink a Pimm’s Cup rather than just Pimm’s. I don’t know why. Secondly, the fruit & herbs that are in the Pimm’s seems to confuse them. Maybe it is because they aren’t used to seeing fresh fruit or maybe because the drink looks more like a meal? Thirdly, they can’t say herbs, instead insisting on calling them “erbs”. Finally, they don’t realise how strong Pimm’s can be, especially when it is homemade.

We spent the afternoon and early evening eating & drinking, the Pimm’s flowing as freely as the conversation. After the sun had set most people had drifted off home, it being a school night and all. A late arrival at the party joined us up on the roof terrace. He was strikingly handsome and Stephen caught me staring at him. I was introduced to him and became immediately self-conscious, stumbling over my words and generally making a tit of myself. Boston was really not a good place for me for flirting. I blame the sea air. When the guy headed back downstairs to grab a drink, Stephen started taking the piss out of me. He did a coquettish look, fanning himself with an imaginary fan and saying “Why, Mr Darcy, it is delightful to meet you”.  I told him to sod off.

We settled round the patio table and someone suggested a game of cards. We played a game called Shithead, which I had a vague recollection of playing once or twice before although the rules seemed different. Mr Darcy sat down next to me. Stephen kept fanning himself and smiling at me. My flirting didn’t get any better although I did get a hug from Mr Darcy at the end of the night. I would have to make do with that. We headed home and I thanked Stephen and Robin for being great hosts and for introducing me to their nice friends.

The following morning I packed for my departure, ready to head back to NYC on the bus before getting the Long Island Rail Road out to Huntington and the next stop on my travels. I got the subway to the bus station and made my way to the terminal. I stopped to pick up a bottle of water and a snack for the four-hour bus ride. I asked the woman who served me if she used the subway. She said she did. I gave her my ticket as it had about $10 left on it. Having done my good deed for the day I boarded the bus, stuck my iPod in and settled in for the journey.

“Pretty impressive, good to know, welcome to Harvard” 
Lyrics from The Harvard Variations from the musical Legally Blonde the Musical

Freedom Road

Freedom Road, lead me home, I have travelled so long

The fairy ferry arrived into Boston early evening. I said goodbye to T and thanked him for a fun time and good company in P’Town and made my way a couple of stops on the subway to Cambridge, and my next host, Stephen.

After a quick shower and change, a glass of wine and an introduction to Stephen’s other half Robin, we headed to Club Passim, a folk music club up near Harvard. The place has seen a number of famous performers grace its stage including Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Suzanne Vega and Joni Mitchell. Tonight’s act was a Quebecois folk band called Genticorum. They sang pretty much entirely in French but they would give the audience an introduction to what the lyrics of each song meant. The lead singer also played the fiddle and a tapped out the beat using a footboard. They were all very talented musicians, if not so blessed in the looks department. Stephen and I agreed that the cutest of the trio was the bassist, who also played the fiddle and the wooden flute. Up close however he looked a little bit Klingon.

The next day I was woken at 6am by the sound of rain on the skylight above me. I decided the best plan of action would be to go back to sleep for a while and hope that when I woke again the weather had improved. The plan worked! I checked my messages and saw I had one from Drew & Gray, my Ottawa gays. They had sent my travel details and website to a Canadian gossip columnist who had given me a shout out on her website. As a result I had a mini spike in hits to the blog site, a couple of new followers on Twitter and my first piece of “fanmail” from a complete stranger!

Boats & Boston

Freedom Road 

Trying not to let my new found celebrity status go to my head, I got myself ready and took myself off into Boston. I walked from Cambridge over the bridge to Charles Street, getting some great photos of downtown Boston from the bridge. At the end of Charles Street I reached Beacon Hill, the oldest part of Boston. The street, lined with stunning red brick buildings, facing Boston Common has the original Cheers bar on it. One of my Twitter followers had set me the challenge of getting a photo of Dean in front of the bar. I went the wrong direction, got distracted and failed the challenge.

I made my way uphill to the Massachusetts State House, the massive dome atop the building covered in 23 karat gold leaf glinting in the sun. I went in to have a look around, having to go in via the General Hooker entrance. Obviously it was named after an army general called Hooker but it still made me chuckle to think that there might be a specific entrance for general hookers. I grabbed a self tour guide, and wandered around. I loved the fact that you can just go into so many of the historic buildings in the States for free. The inside of the building was stunning and the self tour guide gave a good outline of the things to go see.

General Hooker and the Massachusetts State House

Checking the guidebook that Robin had left out for me to borrow I saw that I was on the Freedom Trail so I look in some more of the sights on the route including the Old South Meeting House (where thousands of Bostonians had crowded to take part in a heated discussion which led to the Boston Tea Party), the Old State House (from whose balcony the Declaration of Independence was first read to the public in Massachusetts), Faneuil Hall, the Granary Burying Ground (the final resting place for three of the signers of the Declaration of Independence) and the Park Street Church. There is certainly a lot of history in one small place and the locals are very proud of it. I spent the day taking in the history and taking photos.

Lead me home 

I walked back to Stephen and Robin’s, via a liquor store to buy Stephen a birthday present. We headed to Legal Seafood for a birthday dinner, the three of us splitting an appetizer of spicy calamari that would have served me as a whole meal. For my main course I had the tuna which made me think about one of my best friends from back home, Sarah. We would regularly go for dinner in Balans back in London and despite me always spending ten minutes studying the menu I would always have the tuna. Sarah would tease me as I would often say I was going to try something else only for me to say "I'll have the tuna please" when the waiter asked for my order. Anyway, I digress. The tuna at Legal was cooked medium rare, served with steamed rice and broccoli so I felt like I had been quite healthy. We shared a plate of ice cream bon bons for dessert to counteract the healthy main course.

   

Old State House

After dinner we had cocktails at The Friendly Toast, a garishly decorated but fun and funky bar/restaurant in Kendall Square. The cocktails were huge, being served in a pint glass. I had two and was feeling quite tipsy. As we chatted the topic somehow got on to American versus British toilets (restrooms). There was a consensus that the US style cubicles where the stall walls don’t go down to the floor and seem to stop at around 5 feet were a little strange. As Brits we value our privacy, especially when using the smallest room. We also discussed automatic toilet flushes. I knew that during my year long trip I would learn many new things, but the most bizarre thing I learned that night was that some people stand up to wipe. Apparently the world is split roughly in half between those who stand and those who sit and both groups don’t realise other exists. So now you all know too!

"Freedom Road, lead me home, I have travelled so long"
Lyrics from Freedom Road from the musical Bad Girls: The Musical

America

I like to be in America, ok by me in America, everything free in America

I like to be in America

Independence Day in P’Town. As I went downstairs for breakfast I could hear the strains of the patriotic songs drifting in from the dining room. Alicia had put together a playlist of American classics to mark the special day. People wished me a Happy 4th as I entered the dining room. I wished them a Happy Independence Day. They picked up on my British accent. I had figured it would get a bit of extra attention today. They apologised for winning a war 235 years ago. I apologised for living in a country that had free healthcare. We called it a draw. I got chatting to a couple of couples over breakfast. They asked if I celebrated Independence Day back home in the UK. I said that we didn’t really celebrate it but I would be spending the day celebrating Gin Dependence Day instead.

Miss Richfield 1981

After breakfast T went off to “meet a friend”. I had a wander round town, getting some pictures of the houses all decked out for the celebrations before heading to the main street and finding a shaded spot to watch the parade. I had been told not to expect too much from the parade, but that it was good fun to watch and worth taking my camera. I bumped into Ken and Larry, a lovely couple from San Francisco who I had met at Tea previously. We chatted for a while before the parade arrived. They headed off and T joined me. The parade duly arrived, an interesting mix of fire engines of various ages, all with the sirens blazing and bells ringing, cars decked out in red, white & blue with people hanging out of the windows and a couple of floats filled with school children. The highlight had to be the famous drag queen, Miss Richfield 1981, on a mobility scooter speeding down the main street, a loud hailer in hand playing a fire engine siren through it.

The parade ended and T and I walked up to the Lobster Pot to get a couple of lobster rolls to go. T assured me that it was the best place to get a lobster roll from. I’d not had one before so have nothing to compare it against but it was bloody good. Tea had special extended hours for Independence Day so that the assembled gays could watch the fireworks from the boat deck. Neither T nor I managed to stick to the two Planter’s Punch limit and so we were both a little tipsy by the end of Tea.

I spent quite a while chatting to Bruno, a friend from back home in London who was in P’Town with his other half. This was my second random meeting with someone I know from back home. I was averaging one a month so far after June's incident with the ex in New York. It made a change for me to be able to introduce someone I knew to T rather than him introducing me to the string of men who seemed to know him. I had also learned that, in order to avoid awkward conversations, it was best not to ask how they knew T. The evening was rounded off with a firework display and by the end of the night I had chatted so many different people I had lost count. I had also forgotten most of the names of the people I had been introduced too as well but I had managed to hand out a whole stack of my little 80 Gays Around the World cards.

Ok by me in America 

The following morning and it started to feel a little like Groundhog Day. Breakfast. Sunbathing at the Boatslip. A couple of drinks and lunch. Home to shower. Tea Dance at the Boatslip. We had dinner at a great café called Frappo66, sitting outside so we could watch the gays go by. I had the most amazing chicken parmigiana, sweet potato mash, green beans and broccoli. The portion was so big that there was enough left over for another meal (I had it cold the following day and it was equally as delicious). At Frappo we got chatting to three guys at the next table. They asked where we were from. We said New York and London. They said they were from Cologne. T said to them “Je peux parler français”. I stifled a laugh as they responded “That’s great, Cologne is in Germany”.

The following day we broke with tradition, heading to the beach instead of the Boatslip for our sunbathing. We met up with a couple of guys we had got chatting to early in the week and all made the trip to the beach together. The walk took us through a rather swampy bit of muddy sand so it was a relief to finally get to the beach. We settled ourselves down and spent the day tanning, chatting, listening to music and bemoaning the lack of a bar. We headed back in time to shower and change for Tea. We located our favourite barman, Johnny from Atlanta, and ordered our Planter’s Punches. Johnny mentioned to T that he had been chatting to another of the barmen about how many phone numbers they had collected and they realised that T had given both of them his number. T had been rumbled & Johnny didn’t seem too impressed. I didn’t tell them about all the other people who had been given T’s number but that cell number was probably in a majority of the phones in P’Town.

T introduced me to some more of his friends & then he wandered off to chat to some other people. I had a lovely chat with a sweet, funny (and sexy) guy called Kellen, who told me he was from New York. I said that I would be heading back through New York in a week or so and that we should meet up. I caught up with Bruno again, having also bumped into him earlier that day down at the beach. He said that they were off to Boston for a few days. I told him that it was my last night in P’Town too and that I was also over to Boston. As we went to leave Tea Kellen spotted me and came running over to say goodbye, bumping into someone stood near me and throwing his drink down my legs in the process.

Everything free in America 

T and I made our way to The Thenassi Gallery where (yet another) friend of T’s was having an exhibition of some of his paintings. We were greeted by a lovely woman called Sylvia, who with a thick Hispanic accent and flamboyant style immediately made me think she could be the twin sister of Margarita Pracatan. She poured me a very large drink, told me to help myself to some complimentary cheese and crackers and go look at the art. I looked at the art, then returned to chat more to Sylvia. We chatted about traveling for a long time. She had gotten around. At the end of our conversation Sylvia brought out a small velvet bag. She told me that she had been down to the beach to collect some pebbles and that each had a special message on it. I reached into the bag pulling out a small pebble with the word health painted on it. I kept it, praying that it was a sign that my liver would survive the year of traveling and drinking. Kellen turned up at the gallery as he too had friends who knew the artist. I asked if he would mind not throwing another drink on me & he laughed. He said he would consider it. I came away without getting soaked for a second time.

Farewell to P'Town

The final morning in P’Town, I had some breakfast and packed, ready to check out of the Fairbanks Inn and move on to my next stop, Boston. I said goodbye to our lovely Innkeepers, Alicia and Kathleen, and thanked them for such a fun time. They wished me well for the rest of my travels. I searched for my ferry ticket. It was the first paper ticket that I had had all trip. I remember putting it somewhere safe but I couldn’t for the life of me find the safe place that I had put it. I searched everywhere but resigned myself to the fact that it was super-safe. I headed down to the ferry ticket office expecting to have to fork out for another ticket. I explained to the man behind the counter that I had mislaid the return portion of my ferry ticket. He asked my name, found my booking on the system and printed me another one. I didn’t have to pay anything – I had considered resorting to crying to get a replacement but I didn’t need to! Result. We waved goodbye to P’Town as our 2pm ferry departed. I said to T that I would be glad to have a break from all the crazy drinking. About ten minutes later we were sat on the deck of the boat having a beer as we sailed toward Boston.

“I like to be in America, ok by me in America, everything free in America” 
Lyrics from America from the musical West Side Story

When the sun goes down

It's no fun with the sun around, but I get going when the sun goes down

With the sun around
Provincetown was the next stop on my big gay adventure. I had been told by friends that it was one of the gayest places in the US. I had been due to stay with Matt & Paul, some friends from home who had recently bought a house in P'Town. However,  some over-running house renovations meant that I needed to find a B&B. They had sent me a photo of the current state of the house. It had 2 walls left & no roof. I joked that I could always pitch a tent where the house was supposed to be. I’m not sure they saw the funny side. I managed to find a double room at the Fairbanks Inn. Given I had managed to find a double room I thought some company would be good so I invited a friend from New York to join me. He jumped at the chance.

The Fairbanks Inn - a great place to stay!

After the early start and not much sleep I was feeling a little less than on top form so after arriving in Boston I found the nearest coffee shop and ordered a strong coffee to keep me awake until my ferry was due. I was joined by my friend, “T”. We grabbed a spot of lunch and headed to the ferry terminal early to make sure we got a seat. The queue kept on growing and we finally boarded for the 2pm crossing. There were so many gay men in one spot I renamed the boat the fairy ferry. The crossing was smooth, the sun was shining and I needed a nap. I got a call from one of the ladies from the Fairbanks Inn, Kathleen, saying that they were looking forward to our arrival. The Inn was only a short walk from the dock and we were greeted with a very warm welcome, shown around and taken up to our room. T was impressed with the location and our room & congratulated me. I said it was more luck than skill that I had ended up with a room but that I was pleased it was so nice and the Innkeepers so friendly.

T said that we had arrived just in time for the Tea Dance at the Boatslip (4pm to 7pm), which is a P’Town institution, and that we had to go to. I said that the first drink would either kill me or cure me. It cured me. The drink in question was a Planter’s Punch -  a shot of light rum, a shot of dark rum, a splash of orange juice and pineapple juice, Grenadine and then Bacardi 151 (which has an alcohol content of 75.5%) poured down the straw so your first mouthful is akin to taking a swig of jet fuel. My friends had warned me about the drink, telling me they had a two punch limit. I could see why.

I get going when the sun goes down

The Tea Dance was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The deck of the Boatslip was packed full of gays. There were a lot of fit men, not a chest hair in sight. I felt a little fat and hairy. Within ten minutes of being there T had bumped into some friends from New York. He knows a lot of people. He had warned me that if he didn’t introduce me it was because he couldn’t remember their names so I should take that as my cue to introduce myself. After three punches, we headed to meet Matt & Paul for dinner at Fanizzi’s. They were there with some neighbours, Pat and Betsy, who had been fully informed of my trip. We chatted about my trip so far & what P’Town had to offer. Betsy had the most charming southern accent, that made me want to ask her to just keep talking at me. An espresso martini and a huge burger later I felt it was nearly time for bed. The food was amazing.

Back at the Inn I headed into the bathroom to clean my teeth and get ready for bed. Our room shared a bathroom with another bedroom. We had been told the etiquette for knocking on the door first to make sure it was empty. While I was in the bathroom I pondered on what I would do if there was a knock from the other bedroom. My initial thought was that I would instinctively say “hello” if there was a knock at the door, which would probably not be the best response. I never came up with a satisfactory response but luckily nobody knocked on the door.

The view at breakfast at the Inn

The following morning we had breakfast outside on the lovely little patio area of the Inn. T and I then headed up to the Boatslip to lay out in the sun for a while, a chance for me to finally try and get rid of the t-shirt tan line. After a couple of hours of laying in the sun the air was pierced by a loud whistle and a cry of “Turn those sunbeds”. With the choreography of a chorus line the assembled sunbathing gays all stood up and turned their sunbeds through 90 degrees to once more be facing the sun. It is truly a sight to behold.

We had already settled in to the P’Town routine so did the Tea Dance at 4pm. The place was even busier than the previous night, which I didn’t think was possible. Everyone was in town for the 4 July celebrations the next day. Around 6pm I excused myself and headed to the bathroom. The queue was ridiculous so I told T I would head back to the Inn & then come back, which would probably be quicker. T said he would do the same. As we left we saw the queue of people trying to get in (despite the fact that it was gone 6pm and there was less than an hour of Tea Dance left). We skipped on trying to get back in and went for dinner instead.

After dinner we returned to the Inn to get ready to head out to a club night at one of the local venues. We finally bumped into our bathroom neighbours who were just coming out of their room as we got back. We introduced ourselves, exchanging names and hometowns. They asked if T and I were a couple. I said “Good god no”, then turned to T to apologise for the harsh reaction. He wasn’t bothered. Our neighbours weren’t a couple either. Sharing rooms with a friend seemed to be the thing to do in P’Town.

Getting ready for our night out, T told me he was going to be going topless and he convinced me to do the same. I have never been out clubbing and taken my top off before. I have seen many people do it back home in London and they are always young & skinny or muscle Marys. I’m neither of those hence me never doing it. I felt a little uncomfortable but after a few G&T’s I kind of forgot that I was semi naked. I figured this was the time to do new things. It was going great until T came up to me and said that he had been chatting to some guy who wanted to know where I had got my sweater from. So rude.

“It's no fun with the sun around, but I get going when the sun goes down” 
Lyrics from I Don’t Care If the Sun Don’t Shine from the musical Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

Jolly holiday

Oh it’s a jolly holiday with Mary

Canada Day in the Canadian capital. This was going to be a big day. Everyone had the day off work, the weather was forecast to be hot and sunny and Ottawa had some special visitors – Wills & Kate, and me. I’d been told that everyone would be wearing red and white. I don’t own anything red so I settled for a white t-shirt. I had toyed with the idea of buying an “I ♥ Kate and William” t-shirt the day before but decided against it. As I was finishing getting ready in the bathroom I heard the pop of a cork indicating that the celebrations had begun. It was a little after 9am. We were joined by Michael the Australian (who I was nice to) and Krister and Joseph, friends of D&G who I had met earlier in the week. We had brunch and mimosas before making our way up to Parliament Hill to see the Royals and the Noon Show. 

Everyone in Ottawa, and the surrounding area, seemed to be at Parliament Hill. The crowds were enormous and we made our way as close as we could get, still quite some distance from the main stage. As Wills and Kate arrived there was such a cheer that it made the previous days cheering seem like a whisper. People strained to get glimpses of them, cameras raised above their heads hoping to get a photo even from this distance. A woman next to me commented that Kate was wearing “one of those funny little hat things”. I told her the correct term was a fascinator. A few people in the crowd near me picked up on my accent. I was asked if I was over here for the Royal Family. I said that I had started my trip before they started theirs so it was more likely to be the other way round.

I got chatting to one very friendly woman next to me. She asked where in Canada I had been so far on my trip. I said “Toronto, Montreal and now Ottawa”. She asked if I had been to Halifax. I said “No. Toronto, Montreal and now Ottawa”. She asked if I had been to Quebec. I said “No. Toronto, Montreal and now Ottawa”.

Wills & Kate (look closely)

Following some speeches and performances from a string of Canadian artists I had never heard of, there was a rendition of God Save the Queen. I think I was the only person who sang along. After that came Oh Canada. I think I was the only person who didn’t sing along. In my defence the only part of Oh Canada that I know are the first two words - Oh Canada. We waited around in the jostling crowds and increasing temperatures until after Wills had done his speech. He got a great reaction from the crowds.

Gray and I were joined by Tim (he had missed joining us for brunch but managed to get himself out of bed for the Noon Show) and the three of us headed to Michael’s. We had lost Drew who had gone to seek some shade on account of his slight gingerness. As we were walking along, me in my white t-shirt in between Gray & Tim in their red t-shirts, some guy who was clearly drunk despite the sun not long being over the yardarm shouted at us, telling us we looked just like the Canadian flag. After a drink at Michael’s I headed to meet my gay from Chicago, Bob, and his man, who was now his fiancé. We had a few celebratory drinks before I headed back to D&G’s place.

Gray was having a power nap so we left him to go to a BBQ somewhere out east. The party was in full swing when we arrived. Within two minutes of us arriving I had a beer in one hand and a burger in the other. I have to admit that the Canadian hospitality is amazing. Drew and I did a scan of the room for any talent, me spotting one guy who I thought was cute. A while later when the guy was in the kitchen getting a drink, Drew practically pushed me at him. We chatted for ten minutes or so before he excused himself so he could go check on his friends. Drew asked me what had happened. I explained. Drew said he couldn’t believe how bad at chatting people up I was.

Fly past

From the BBQ we headed to Centretown Pub, which lived up to the billing D&G had given it in the welcome pack. We had a couple of beers while sat outside with a whole patio full of would nots. Various friends came and went over the couple of hours we were sat there. Drew said he needed to head home for a while so I joined him, using the time to pack my bags ready for leaving early the next morning.

Early evening saw us head up to Confederation Square for the big fireworks display. I’d been up to Confederation Square on my first day in Ottawa where a tourist information woman had handed me a map, letting me know where everything was located and apologising for the fact that Confederation Square was actually triangular.  The firework display was stunning, you could feel the explosions from some of the fireworks. I pointed out that a lot of the fireworks seemed to just be red and white and that maybe they could have used more colour. Fireworks are brilliant for making you feel like a child again. The huge crowds all ooohed and aaahed at the display like a bunch of five year olds, me included. An impromptu rendition of Oh Canada started at the end of the display, and I again managed the first two words before falling into silence.

After the fireworks ended the huge crowds dispersed, we (D&G, me & Tim) made our way to The Edge, a bar with an large outside roof terrace (and breeze) which was a welcome relief after the heat of the day. We had a couple of drinks there, during which time Bob and his man joined us. I introduced everyone & soon Bob and Gray were swapping stories about me, which I found a little unsettling. Just after midnight I suggested that bed might be a sensible option as I had to be up at 5am for a flight to Boston. Gray said that Dan had invited us round for a nightcap. I wanted the chance to say goodbye to him so we headed over to Dan’s. The nightcap was a very large G&T and it was nearly 1:30am before we left. I said goodbye to Dan and thanked him for the tour guidery. I finally got to bed at 2am.

After a mere 3 hours sleep I was awake again. I showered and dressed on autopilot. I didn’t feel hungover but it is quite possible I was still a little tipsy from the night before. I had no choice with the flights as this was the only direct flight from Ottawa to Boston and I needed to be in Boston in good time to make the 2pm ferry over to Provincetown. I could have got a later flight via somewhere else but I didn’t want to take the risk of being delayed and missing the ferry. Gray was kind enough to give me a lift to the airport. The roads at that time in the morning were deserted, some of them still littered with the aftermath of the Canada Day celebrations. My Ottawa hosts had certainly earned their title of hostesses with the mostesses and I left Ottawa having made several new really good friends. Not bad for a few days work.

I checked in for my flight, pleased to note that it was on time. As I headed through security I saw the US immigration desks. In Ottawa you clear US immigration before the flight. Remembering the problems I had entering Canada from the US I braced myself for some questions. Tired and conscious that I might possibly still smell of gin I approached the desk. I was asked quite a lot of questions – where I was from, what I did for work, how long I was going to be in the US, where I was staying, how had I managed to get a year off work. The immigration officer said that the people in Britain were crazy if they could just take a year off to go travelling. I agreed.

Once through immigration I found the nearest place that served coffee and ordered some breakfast. I knew that I needed to keep awake & not miss my flight. There was a short delay but we soon boarded the tiny plane that would take us to Boston. As soon as I got into my seat I fell asleep.


“Oh it’s a jolly holiday with Mary”Lyrics from Jolly Holiday from the musical Mary Poppins

Watch that scene

See that girl, watch that scene, diggin’ the dancing queen

See that girl
I awoke the next morning without too much of a hangover. Drew had the day off work and would be acting as my tour guide for the day so after a coffee we set off for Parliament Hill, collecting tickets for a tour of the main parliament building later that day. We had a couple of hours before our tour time so we headed over to the market area for a walk round and to get a late breakfast/early lunch. We went to a great Italian deli that Drew told me was known for its tasty freshly made sandwiches and tasty deli staff. The sandwich lived up to the hype, the staff were a little more on the “would not” side, for which Drew apologised.  He said the quality was normally a lot better. I said it wasn’t his fault. The Canadians really do like to apologise. For everything.

Cat parliament

After our lunch we made our way back up to Parliament Hill, taking a walk around the outside of the buildings. Drew pointed out various things, filling me in on snippets of Canadian history. We saw the “cat parliament”, a collection of small wooden huts inhabited by stray cats who are fed and looked after (a euphemism for being spayed/neutered) by volunteers from parliament. We headed back to the information tent in time for our tour. After clearing security we were shown around the Centre Block of Parliament, being taken into the House of Commons and the Senate as well as the Library of Parliament, the only part of the building to survive the fire of 1916 that destroyed the rest of the building. It was amazing to see the inside of the Parliament building, something I don’t think you can do back in London without an appointment to see an MP.

View from the Peace Tower

During the tour our guide, Jenny, asked the group questions about Parliament, former Prime Ministers. Drew got very excited shouting out quite a lot of the answers before she had even finished the questions. He wanted to finish top of the class. Outside the Senate were portraits of all the kings and queens of Canada. Jenny, while standing in front of a large portrait of Queen Elizabeth II, asked who the current Queen of Canada was. Even I was able to answer that one. After the tour ended we waited in line to go up the Peace Tower, which offered great views across Ottawa and Gatineau. The whole thing was totally free as well, which appealed to both my accountant side and my Yorkshire roots.

Watch that scene

That evening my hosts took me to a bar called Flamingo for a fundraising event for the Ottawa Wolves Rugby team. The event, The Price is Tight, was a take on the classic game show The Price is Right. The drag queen hosting it was good fun, even if he/she didn’t always quite know what was going on or how the games worked. Plenty of the rugby team were in attendance, wearing their rugby kit, which gave us something nice to look at while the games progressed. There was even a homemade Plinko board. Sadly I didn’t get called out for any of the games, but then again I wouldn’t have had a clue how much things cost over here anyway. After the games had ended we went to Dan’s for a nightcap before heading home. Drew and I sat up having a late night snack while watching the Golden Girls. I asked whether there was a McClanahan street anywhere in Ottawa. Drew asked why. I said I would love a photo of a sign that said Rue McClanahan.

The following day I had a bit of a lie in. I had been due to go out for a bike ride with Shawn, but he got called in to work. I didn’t fancy a bike ride on my own, figuring it would be safer if I had someone to follow to keep me on the right side of the road.  Instead, I made my way up to the War Memorial to join the crowds who had gathered to see Wills and Kate, who had just arrived on their first official overseas engagement as a married couple. There were a lot of people out lining the streets, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the royal couple. I managed to get myself fairly close to the front. The roar of motorbikes and police sirens signalled the arrival of a stream of black vehicles with tinted windows. The crowds pressed forwards trying to get a glimpse of who the passengers were. After a minute or so the doors opened and Stephen Harper, the Canadian PM, got out. There was a collective groan of disappointment. The security services responded to the requests of the crowds to move the cars so they could get a better view, dropping them back and parking up down a side street. The Canadians are very polite.

Diggin’ the dancing queen

Wills & Kate

Shortly after, another set of cars arrived. Wills and Kate got a massive cheer from the crowds as they stepped out of the cars. The crowds were very welcoming, cheering for the young couple as they made their way to the Memorial. I managed to get a photo of the back of their heads. I’ve never been out to see the Royals back home at anything. The excitement in the crowd was contagious & gave me goosebumps despite the warm weather. The women in the crowd mainly discussed what Kate was wearing and how pretty she was. She had changed from what she was wearing when she boarded the plane early in the day. The general census seemed to be that they loved that she was wearing a Canadian designer and that they all thought she was very pretty. And lucky to have landed herself a prince. They consoled themselves with the fact that Harry was still unmarried and that they might end up with him, a sentiment I could easily agree with.

I met up with Shawn later that day, he apologised for having to cancel the bike ride. We went for dinner at a little pub called The Manx, round the corner from D&G’s place. The place was virtually full when we arrived but we managed to find a table and enjoyed a couple of pints with our dinner. The place was in a basement and had the feel of a slightly run down English pub. The food however was amazing. I had a massive pulled pork wrap with potato wedges. I struggled to finish it all but Shawn graciously helped with the wedges. We had a conversation about the Isle of Man, where the pub had got its name. I tried to explain the three-legged man on the flag, remembering the facts from the times I had been over to the Isle of Man with my best friend to visit her family. I am sure she would have been impressed with the number of “facts” I managed to reel off (Tynwald being the oldest continuously existing ruling body, it having the largest working waterwheel in the world…).

After dinner we met up with D&G, Dan and a few more of their friends, heading to a bar called Look Out for a few drinks. They warned me that it would be a busy night as the following day was a public holiday for Canada Day. The place was busy when we arrived and filled up quickly. The Happy Hour, from 10pm to 11pm, saw me get through a couple of G&T’s and a shot of something that tasted like liquid Haribo Tangfastics. After the Look Out closed a few of us had a nightcap (a theme of my nights out in Ottawa) at D&G’s before getting to bed ahead of the big Canada Day celebrations.

“See that girl, watch that scene, diggin’ the dancing queen” 
Lyrics from Dancing Queen from the musical Mamma Mia!

Wilkommen

Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome

Wilkommen 

Ottawa, my next destination was just a short train journey from Montreal (short being two  hours/two G&T’s and a glass of wine with dinner). I had asked my next hosts, roommates Drew and Gray (D&G), the best way to get to their house from the train station but they insisted on picking me up, explaining that they didn’t want my first impression of the Canadian capital (yes, Ottawa is the capital of Canada!) to be a taxi driver.

Upon arrival I was shown to my room, given a tour of the house and offered a drink. I opted for a G&T and we headed out onto the veranda to enjoy the warm evening, the guitar playing neighbour across the street and the talent walking by. I was given a welcome pack, which consisted of a list of places to eat, split by area, a list of places to shop and a list of the bars.  All of the venues had been numbered and the back of the pack contained a map with little numbered stickers showing exactly where they were, together with a sticker marked “home”. It had been put together by D&G with great attention to detail and included fantastic local perspectives such as the description for Centretown Pub – “Old ugly f*ckers. This is my favourite place to go to feel good about myself”.

Whilst we sat and chatted on the veranda D&G told me they liked to play a game called Would/Would Not with the passing men. I didn’t need the rules explaining. I felt at home very quickly and I got the feeling that Ottawa was going to be good fun. As we sat drinking a friend of D&G’s, Dan, arrived. They both should Would Not at him as he approached. Dan got a drink and joined us outside. He had a look through my welcome pack, agreeing with the descriptions provided. Dan said that he would be free the following afternoon if I wanted a tour guide/chaperone, an offer I accepted. Everyone asked why I was spending so much time in Ottawa as there was not that much to see. I explained that I had increased my stay after a friend pointed out that I had initially planned to leave the day before Canada Day. I was sure that I could find things to keep me entertained for the duration of my stay. A couple more drinks and the conversation was flowing like we had all been friends for years. I knew that I had made three new friends within the space of an evening.

Bienvenue 

Changing of the Guard

The following morning I was shown the coffee machine and the breakfast goods and told to help myself to whatever I wanted from the fridge. There was a bottle of Irish Cream next to the coffee machine. These were my type of people. I was given a set of keys as D&G set off for work. I got myself ready and headed out for my usual bearing finding walk. From the house I headed up towards the War Memorial, just in time to see the changing of the guard. With the bright red tunic and bearskin hats of the guards I felt like I was back in London. From there I took in Parliament Hill, which was abuzz with activity ahead of the upcoming Canada Day celebrations and a visit from Wills & Kate. There was a large stage set up on the grass area in front of the main parliament building and the barricades that would keep the crowds in place were starting to go up.

Parliament Hill

I had been told by D&G that there were good views of Parliament to be had from across the river so I headed for the bridge, crossing over into Gatineau on the Quebec side, following the riverside path along. They were right. I got some good photos, got shouted at by a cyclist in French for not staying on the right and took in the scenery. I carried on walking down to the next bridge then crossed back over the river, passing the National Art Gallery and made my way back home. I let myself back in to the building using the key provided & headed up to the apartment. I tried the other key on the keyring in the lock. Nothing. I tried the first key. Nothing. I spent about five minutes trying both keys in both the locks but to no avail.

Parliament

Luckily I was able to access D&G’s wifi on my Blackberry from outside the apartment so I dropped them a quick message saying I couldn’t get in and that the keys looked suspiciously similar which made me think I had two building keys but no apartment key. Drew responded telling me I was probably trying to turn the key the wrong way. I also dropped Dan a message explaining I was locked out, asking if he was still free for lunch and an afternoon of tour guiding, which he was. I set off for Dan’s which was a few minutes walk away. I showed him the keys asking if he thought they looked the same. His response was “Those stupid b*tches”. We stopped for lunch before making our way to the National Art Gallery, spending a very pleasant afternoon walking around the various exhibits and galleries. The building itself is also stunning should you ever get a chance to visit. Dan took time to point out loads of interesting things as we walked back through town and along the canal. If I get offered a tour from a local then I am always going to take it as there are so many things I would miss walking on my own.

Welcome

Once home I gave the keys to D&G who confirmed that they had given me two building keys, which meant that their cleaner had two apartment keys. I felt vindicated that it wasn’t my stupidity preventing me getting in the apartment. The evening was supposed to have been spent enjoying a rooftop BBQ at Michael’s, a friend of D&G, but as the time came for us to set off the heavens opened so a quick change of plans saw us stay at home. Michael came over to D&G’s and Dan joined us as well. I hadn’t been told that Michael was Australian. My natural instinct with my Australian friends from back home is to take the piss as I know they all give as good as they get. I explained to Michael that Australia was on my world travel plans and that I had got some practice for visiting there in Philadelphia when I visited the Eastern State Penitentiary, a large prison. He took my gentle ribbing in good spirits.

After dinner we were joined by another friend of D&G’s, Shawn, who had originally been lined up to be my host but had recently moved out of central Ottawa, a move which D&G deemed rendered him too far away to host. As we chatted about the upcoming Canada Day celebrations, Shawn said that he might not be in Ottawa to join in the partying as he was thinking about going cottaging instead. I nearly choked on my drink. A discussion then ensued about the difference between the Canadian meaning of cottaging (going away to a cottage) and the British meaning of cottaging (think George Michael in the LA toilet). I explained to Michael that the Australians probably called it dating. A nightcap or three brought my first full say in Ottawa to an end. D&G were definitely living up to their (self-styled) title of the “Hostesses with the Mostesses”, despite the key mishap.


“Wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome” 
Lyrics from Wilkommen from the musical Cabaret