We’re writing about Canada a bit ahead of schedule. We’re still trying to polish off our South East Asia posts, and we will be getting to them eventually. But… THIS JUST IN! Our friend, and one of our favourite Canadian artists – Pat LePoidevin – has released a new music video from his new album, American Fiction. Enjoy. We had the chance to visit with Pat (briefly, we’re getting too &#91read more]

OK, I’ll admit it.  We’ve been slacking.  Big time.  On the blog, I mean.  We’ve been home for 3 months now and we’re still finishing up posts about Cambodia and Thailand.  We’re lucky to get in one post a week!  But you know all that. Sorry to all our loyal fans out there (all five of you), but we’ve been busy.  As soon as we were settled in, I was &#91read more]

Surprise! We’re home!  Not in Bulgaria, silly… in Saskamoose-a-bush, Canada, the land of ice and snow. Okay, maybe you’ve already been surprised. Probably because we’ve already been home for three weeks as any astute Facebook follower would know. If you didn’t know, don’t feel bad. It just means we get to surprise you now. Surprise! How long are you home for? Ah, right to it. The first question everyone asks. We’re &#91read more]

This is a really old post that we never got around to publishing.  It is a journaled account of our two week canoe trip from Whitehorse, Yukon to Dawson City, Yukon.  At the end of each night, we would lay down in our tent and spend a few minutes re-hashing the days events.  It seemed fitting that we should finally get around to posting it while we ourselves our on &#91read more]

You may be interested in reading Part 1 if you haven’t done so already. Yukon River Whitehorse to Dawson City 736km ”View Yukon River in a larger map” In the late spring of 1898, along the shores of several small, high mountain lakes in northern British Columbia, an estimated 30,000 people watched captivated, as the decaying ice floes heaved, crashed and groaned and finally gave way to disappear into the &#91read more]

“You’re from Whitehorse, cool. What’s there to do in Whitehorse anyways?” I asked the nameless girl from, of all places, Whitehorse.  I’ve chosen to protect her identity and not use her real name for two reasons.  First, I don’t have the foggiest idea on how to contact her to ask permission.  And perhaps even more importantly, I can’t remember her name for the life of me. Continuing with the story… &#91read more]