Stu Hall's Soup

Under A Table

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 12:50:16 GMT

Under A Table

What's That Sound?

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 08:22:27 GMT

What's That Sound?

9babysham trailer9 1

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 19:16:39 GMT

9babysham trailer9 1

I'm GLAD my cellphone is shit!

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 02:00:23 GMT

The big idea was that I would bring my spiffy mobile phone from England over to Canada and just take out the O2 Simcard and replace it with a Fido or Rogers simcard. The plan went well up until the point where I dropped the phone on the ground, whereafter it would abruptly turn off at inopportune moments.

Upon moving to Canada, much of my money was put aside for the essentials until I could get a job and much of the rest of it was used to line the government’s pockets through astronomical immigration fees. Oh, and I wanged a load of cash on computer stuff. Anyway, I had to get a new phone and decided to just get a cheap one for the time being. A year later, I still have the same one.

The phone is quite shit. I get tired of having to delete text messages once every couple of weeks when the memory gets full, like it’s still 1989. I can win the java demo of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire every single time, having memorised every question. It has a camera built into it, of sorts. It can only hold about 10-12 pictures and the images come out blurred to such a degree that I often wonder if the phone’s firmware has a built in impressionism filter.

Since I cannot remove the images from the camera, only being able to keep 10-12 images has an interesting effect. I become more selective, deleting anything that I don’t really care that much about. So what I’ve found is that the small number of images tends to tell a bit of a story of the time I’ve spent living in Toronto. In fact, each image also tells it’s own story. What is also worth noting is that most of the images are from the first year I spent here, suggesting that everything is normalised for me now. There isn’t as much novelty and not every street I turn onto leads to a surprise anymore.

Because the phone is *so* utterly shit that I can’t download the images from it, I will have to describe the images I have kept.

1. Image000.jpg
One of the first winters I spent here, and it was a particularly harsh one. Around April, when the snow was still around but wasn’t as overwhelming, a baby racoon clambered over a fence and obligingly posed for a photo. Well, actually it was begging for food.

2. Image001.jpg
My wife was away for a while studying up in North Bay. Taffy, her pet dog misses her and sits on the sofa looking out for her whenever she hears a neighbour. The picture is her with her eyes practically jumping out of her head when she thinks she hears Sara’s return.

3. Image002.jpg
I went to the Ontario Science Museum with Tess. In the gift store, they have these tacky spaceman helmets. Tess wears one and gurns at the camera, alluringly.

4. Image003.jpg
Photo of our street winding into the middle-distance. Practically everything in the photo is white, covered in snow. Taken as I walked home from a horrible day at work followed by me trudging trough 3 miles of snow off the bus-route.

5. Image005.jpg
New job, new location. I started working near downtown Scarborough and my journey took me across a bridge over the 401 highway with the office buildings of Scarborough Town Centre in the distance. Not particularly impressive to anyone who lives around here, but at the risk of sounding like a country bumpkin, it was to me when I first arrived.

6. Image006.jpg
Yet another job. I used to work for The Toronto Blue Jays. I would usually arrive for work early and just sit outside The Rogers Centre and read a book. One day a female mallard duck trundled up beside me and stood at my feet watching me. I took a photo, but didn’t have any food to say thanks.

7. Image007.jpg
When I left that job I forced a work colleague who I started to get on with to have her picture taken with me. It came out badly, with us composed in the bottom of the frame and generally looking awkward. And my colleague, Stephanie, is doing her default photo pose face.

8. Image008.jpg
On a trip to Pennsylvania my wife tried on a couple of dresses she liked. We couldn’t decide which to get because she looked great in both of them. I took a photo of her in one of them, but due to the blurred image and low resolution, no conclusions could be drawn from the evidence.

9. Image009.jpg
I worked at a warehouse for a while and didn’t particularly enjoy it. I am a grammar nazi and many people working there were recent immigrants who didn’t speak English as a first language, much less write it. This included janitorial staff who left a poster in the washroom saying “HEY GUYS PLEASE KEEP IT CLEAN WE KNOW WHO YOU’RE DOING IT KEEP IT CLEAN AT ALL TIME". The sign basically represented everything I hated about the place.

10. Image010.jpg
Related to the above job. The warehouse stocked clothing. It was all quite, quite awful clothing. I have nothing against Bangladesh, but I’m not sure that the country is known for it’s fashion. New York, London, Paris… Dhaka? No. There was a catalogue with all the clothing, and the cover featured a woman wearing the centre-piece item: A wind-breaker style coat. Yellow and black. The woman was borderline model material, but to relieve any doubts about the cover photo, a windswept effect was applied with the addition of a wind fan to the photographer’s studio.

And, er. That’s it. Until I take anymore exciting images.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

A Year In Books: Part Two

Sat, 08 Aug 2009 13:22:38 GMT

The Continuing Saga…

As I said at the start of my last post, I enjoy working as a bookseller. I like selling books and I enjoy providing advice and customer service to the majority of people. These posts might seem like I’m ranting. And I am. But it’s in the name of humour. So that makes it okay!

We are not the most famous bookstore in the World

Until we do become the centre of the Universe, here are some things that we cannot do for you:

Get hold of a book that we don’t carry - If we don’t carry it, we don’t carry it. We can only sell the books that our distributors can provide. Go on, keep asking. See if I suddenly change my mind.

Ask an author to hurry up and finish their book. – We do not maintain intimate relationships with book authors. I do not have brunch with Ken Follett in NYC or pay quick visits to California in order to walk Dean Koontz’s golden retriever.

You cannot talk to “the company owner” by calling our store. Like the majority of bookstores these days, it is a chain store and although ownership has changed a few times, it has been a chain store for decades. The CEO is at home receiving a massage while watching Oprah as a servant prepares Foie Gras for supper.

Sales Clerks are people
Sales clerks are not all stupid. They are also not omniscient. I’ll write more about hiring and staff another time, but basically you are not going to find biologists working in the medical reference section of the store. We all have varying degrees of general knowledge, but for the most part we don’t have *actual* degrees. You need to be able to communicate your needs to the person helping you. If you are either pressuring the sales person or you are purposefully withholding information from the sales person simply so that you can patronise them for their supposed lack of knowledge, then it is you that is failing to communicate.

Sales clerks are people and can only hold an interest in so many subjects. It is part of our job to know our stock…. But let’s keep some perspective. Most retail workers aren’t going to feel obliged by their sub-$10-an-hour-wage to research the excruciating details of the latest New Age nonsense fad.

We are more likely to learn about Mayan Prophecies, Pilates, Freud, Quantum Physics, Acupuncture, Edward Cullen and other subjects we don’t care about (often in our own time) because we enjoy doing a good job and not because we are paid the top dollars. Being treated like an idiot makes you feel resentful rather than motivated.

Another note: I find it bewildering that customers occasionally tell you they are looking for a particular book that was here a year ago and had a purple cover (totally useless information 99% of the time) and then treat you like an idiot when you don’t whip the book off the shelf for them. Browsing a bookstore and looking for advice is great – that’s one reason we’re here. But if you’re looking to buy a very specific book, you really should have a specific idea of what the hell you’re looking for.

Will you sell my book for me?
Very unlikely. You probably think it’s better than anyone else thinks it is.

Part three coming eventually…

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Twilight vs Harry Potter

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 16:11:17 GMT

I just wanted to make a quick post to put some perspective on the comparison between the Twilight series and the Harry Potter series. There’s a lot of excitement around online communities where some people seem convinced that Twilight is “better” than Harry Potter. A lot of trumpeting 14-year-old-girls seem convinced of this as fact. What I find equally annoying are press-releases from certain companies in the book industry like this one.

The Harry Potter books were released over a long period of time and The Twilight Saga has seen a much more sudden spike in popularity, so the content of the press release shouldn’t be that much of a surprise. The press release is simply an exercise in beating up book sales.

From my perspective, I’m not a big fan of either. I missed the boat on Harry Potter and have never really made the time to read it. During the peak of the anticipation over the Twilight series, I was working at a bookstore (and still am). I’ve occasionally been tempted to read it, mainly because I enjoy writing and I like the idea of satirising it and all the pre-teen girly excitement over it, but I never got around to it. I have seen the Harry Potter movies because my wife loves it, but I haven’t seen Twilight.

Here is a simple list of approximate booksales for each of the books:
120 Million Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone (1st book)
77 Million Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets (2nd book)
66 Million Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire (4th book)
65 Million Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince (6th book)
61 Million Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban (3rd book)
55 Million Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix (5th book)
44 Million Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows (7th book)
17 Million Twilight (1st book)

I can’t find sales for New Moon and it wouldn’t be fair to show Eclipse and Breaking Dawn as they are only available in hardcover (in North America). The combined Twilight Saga (all 4 books combined) have sold 53 Million copies – beating only one single book from the Harry Potter Series. It is worth noting that Deathly Hallows sold 15 Million copies in the first 24 hours – almost as many as Twilight has ever sold.

Of course, there’s no accounting for taste (The Spice Girls have sold 60 Million records worldwide). In terms of entertainment, I’m sure the hormonal lusting in Twilight speaks volumes to the majority of the books fans. It’s never going to appeal to very many guys or very many adults, though – something Harry Potter does.

So if you can’t easily measure quality, here is an objective fact: In terms of literary worth, Meyer herself says that she should not be compared to J.K. Rowling.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

A Year In Books: Part One

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 00:19:19 GMT

I’ve worked in a bookstore for about 18 months, which by most people’s measurement is more than a year. But “A Year In Books” sounds better, so I’m sticking with it. Most of the customers who come into the store pass through pleasantly and without incident. We have a few regular customers and they are usually a pleasure to deal with. I enjoy my job, despite it not being a financially rewarding choice.

Okay, so that’s the disclaimer out of the way.

Staring back in to the misty past of 2008 as I began working at a bookstore, I would be surprised on a daily basis at how ill informed customers were about a product (books!) that are a part of everyday life. We’re not selling complicated electrical components, mortgage packages or your next wife. It shouldn’t be painful, but some customers make it so.

We are not Walmart
Just because Walmart sell a few books, does not mean that as a bookstore we sell a few rolls of toilet paper, wholesale packages of diapers or boxes of Rock Band 2 for the XBox 360. While it is true that we sell a selection of journals, bookmarks, chocolates and the odd DVD movies (more on these extra items later) we are a bookstore. We sell books.

It is a bookstore, not the inside of The Tardis
We can hold a certain number of books in our store. This is generally governed by the walls that make up the building. We might try to fit more books into the store, but then there would be no room for customers. I admit that this sometimes seems like a good idea, but it doesn’t make business sense. Once ever year, we “optimise” the store. This means that some sections are going to get larger. Since space is finite, logic dictates that other areas are going to get smaller. It is HEAD OFFICE who decrypt all of the sales statistics and compare this to how much shelf space is assigned to a particular section (see later how our store is not the centre of the universe). Sections that are under performing are going to shrink to make way for sections that do well (but could do better with more stock).

As I said, these changes are based on sales statistics. It is essentially the customers who dictate how much stock we have in a particular genre, by a particular author or of a particular format based on their purchasing decisions. It is painfully common for a customer to come into the store and whinge that we don’t have a particular book by Terry Goodkind. We have half a shelf of his damn books, that’s a very large proportion of shelf space in a small store. It is also very common for customers to come into the store looking for classic literature. We have some. We don’t have much. To repeat my point in simple terms: We only sell what sells. That’s why we’re still in business.

A lack of organisation on your part, does not constitute an emergency on my part
“I want a text book to revise for my nursing exam, I don’t care which but I need it in two days time”. Not going to happen, and don’t try to pretend that this is a surprise or that it’s unreasonable. Ten years ago you would have had to travel to a bookstore and get them to order it which they would do either by mailing or telephoning a request for a book. They would either have to know a suitable book for you, or would have to find it either in a paper catalogue or with the help of someone at the publisher. These days we have online booksellers where you can browse for a book you think is suitable and if you’re lucky you might get it in two days if you pay a premium. You have no excuse for being a lazy arse.

Yes, we have moved the section. No it’s not a conspiracy against you.
This ties in with an earlier section. Numerous customers, particularly older customers, often comment “Oh, you’ve moved such-and-such a section”. I’m convinced that half of these customers have a filing cabinet in their home stuffed with blueprints of our store detailing the precise location of each genre section dating back to 1970. They come into the store having consulted their records and then make their comment about moving sections with a hint of an accusatory tone. As if this is a sleight that you have committed against them personally.

The sections are moved during optimisation. We have to use all of our available shelf space, but we need to not mix sections too much. It’s fine if we have two shelves of a bookcase featuring Religion and another three shelves holding New Age. What becomes unacceptable is mixing True Crime and Religion or Sexuality with Young Readers. Therefore, we have to get creative. We have to move sections around to best fit what Head Office are asking us to do. It takes thought and planning and is the cause of many headaches. We don’t do it just for a laugh in the same way that you don’t do your taxes for a bit of fun. We do it because we’re fitting the books you want into the store in the best way we’re able to. What I’m saying is… it’s your fault.

Books are NOT expensive. You are wrong.

I’ve written this section three times, and each time it comes out far too long. I think I may have to write a more detailed version in the future, but basically: No. Books aren’t expensive.

Authors have to be paid, bearing in mind that even prolific writers take about 6 months to write a book and deserve to be paid for that time. And incidentally, authors take the smallest cut of anyone – a few cents per book.

The cost of the paper is a lot more than you’d think, and so the cost of the actual manufacturing of the book (not including printing) is around about $2.50-$3. I had a guy sat behind me at a baseball game gabbing on about books only costing $1 to make and then “they” make a 300% markup on that, whoever “they” is.

Complete bollocks from start to finish. As I said, it’s more like $3 before the ink hits the paper (depending on pages). Also a 300% markup on their suggested price of $1 is only a $2 markup. If he’s suggesting that everything over $1 is markup, (which it isn’t, for anyone) then it’s more like 700-1300%. Basically, the bloke is a gobshite.

The printing is very expensive and uses printing presses (which have a high setup charge but work out cheaper for big print runs of thousands). The author takes a few cents. The publisher takes a few cents and the rest at this point is spent on marketing, proof-reading, editing, designing the cover and gallery prints.

Even at this point the book isn’t ready for the bookstores. Publishers are publishers - that is their area of expertise. They contract out their distributing, so distributors (companies that store and ship the books to bookstores) take their cut and have their own costs. Finally there are the bookstores (who get about 40% discount on the cover price). They have numerous overheads to pay. You might think it’s easy to make a profit in a bookstore and I think I had enough evidence in my first and second write of this section to convince people otherwise, but now I’m trying to keep it short…. I’ll write more some other time but for now let’s talk coffee.

The markup on coffee is high. The markup on books (especially by the time the book is in a bookstore) is not. It is for this reason that any bookstore with the room to sell coffee will do exactly that. The vast majority of large bookstores have a Starbucks or other coffee chain in their store. It is for exactly the same reason that they sell chocolate, candy and other gift items. It is also for the same reason that I am only earning a little bit over minimum wage and make no commission while someone selling electrical items/cars/jewellery/flowers will usually be making more than I am.

Second hand bookstores work on a different business model. They are essentially selling just the book at more of it’s perceived value as a medium for holding text. They don’t deal with publishers or distributors (customers usually sell books back to them) and the author has already been paid. That is why second hand bookstores don’t typical serve you coffee, or sell you any other “impulse” items.

Stick to sports, asshole - they’re easier to understand.

I can get it for X amount at Walmart/Sears/Zellers/Shoppers Drug Mart!
Buy it from wherever you want to buy it, no bookstore is going to price match against a completely different business model. The majority of merchandise sold in department stores has high markup, which subsidises areas where there is more competition. It is not a new idea for a large store to take a loss on one item in the hope you will buy something else where they will profit. Take a look at how Tesco and Sainsbury’s in The UK sell petrol for 5 Pence less per litre… provided you just spent £50 on groceries.

Department stores only sell the most popular books. I’ll see you back in my store later, when you want something more than a couple of months old. Otherwise, go ahead and buy from Walmart. Without an employee discount, so would I.

Another small point: Bookstores usually have such generous return policies that, in my opinion, it’s completely crazy. They’re essentially libraries with newer stock. Again, I could write a completely separate article about customers who seriously believe it is their human right to return a book a month after buying it and get credit for it, even though consumer law only mandates returns on faulty goods or goods sold unfairly. “Oh, I read the first 100 pages and decided I didn’t like it”. Tough luck, fucknut – you chose it.

I’ll probably write a part two at some point in my life.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Book Price Rant

Wed, 27 May 2009 01:39:46 GMT

I was recently in The US, as you may already know from reading my last blog post. While visiting Lancaster, Pennsylvania, I took a look around a Borders book store. I wanted to compare their prices to the prices in the Canadian book store I work in, and to get an idea of the titles they carry.

Books in Canada are more expensive than books in The USA. Having said that, books anywhere in the World are more expensive than books in The USA. In Canada, this variation in price is a bigger deal because customers in Canada will often get angry with Canadian stores for charging so much more.

Now, I know I work for a Canadian book store, but I don’t think I’m in a position of unreasonable bias. I don’t think booksellers here are innocent of blame. I believe that the main bookseller in this country has, pretty much, an effective monopoly. Especially in Ontario. This gives them a lot of bargaining power when they deal with publishers which they should be using to it’s fullest extent. I’m not in these meetings, so I can’t say for sure whether they are or aren’t doing this.

There is one main reason why people in Canada complain about the price of their books, and I’m sorry, but it’s retarded. The problem is that the prices are printed on the back of the books in both US currency and separately in Canadian currency. Right next to each other. Well, okay, this isn’t the underlying reason why people complain about the price of the books. The underlying reason is a bit more complicated. My point is that if both of the prices weren’t on the books then it wouldn’t even enter into the customer’s minds to complain about it. In the same way that people don’t complain they can get a Big Mac Meal cheaper in The USA, a cellphone cheaper in Japan or a wedge of Wensleydale cheese cheaper in England. If I walked into a bookstore in Paris and complained that I could get Twilight for a quid less in England, they’d spit at me and accuse me of being an English Pig-Dog. They’d tell me to fuck off back to England and buy it there. Except I wouldn’t entertain complaining about it unless the difference was significant (LIKE CELLPHONE CHARGES IN CANADA BEING CRAZY).

Of course when a customer is stood before you, you have to choose your words carefully (unless you’re Parisian). You give them a watered down, easy to understand version of the truth that they probably don’t believe entirely but don’t usually have the energy to argue with. The watered down version of the truth, which is that the cost of doing business in Canada is higher and many of our books cost more because they are shipped from The USA, has two main advantages. Firstly the customer can’t really scream at you because the reply is reasonable and secondly it’s not long-winded and boring, so they don’t get bored. And it doesn’t hold up the line for half-an-hour like a discussion of macro economics would.

And that’s what it comes down to. Economics. Different countries have different economic models and while the UK and Canada have a lot of similarities, the USA is quite different. Social welfare comes with a hefty price tag, but most people would agree that it is a good thing. Especially “free” health care. Two reasons why you wouldn’t think free health care is a good thing:
1) You’re very rich and can afford all the care you would ever need and don’t want to pay for anyone else.
2) You’ve been told throughout your life that communism is evil and will destroy the planet. (IE you live in The US and have no exposure to the outside world).

So yes, health care comes at a cost. This comes in the form of various taxes. Businesses have to pay taxes, too. Yes!! Really!! These costs are passed onto consumers. I’m not saying that the sole reason that books cost more in Canada is because you get free health care, but it’s a contributing factor and it’s one that should be remembered.

There are many horror stories related to insurance companies not wanting to pay out for someone to have an operation in the USA. The way they try to find technical reasons as to why the insurance is not valid is sickening. I don’t wish harm to any of my customers, but given the choice, I hope that customers would opt to pay a little extra for their book and receive free health care than save a few dollars on a book.

God forbid, if you did come down with an illness and you bought a copy of Twilight in Canada for about 20% more, at least when you are bed ridden and bored it will be much more satisfying to slowly tear out the pages of that awful book.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

The Nihilistic Artists return

Sat, 23 May 2009 19:02:55 GMT

The Nihilistic Artists return

Pennsylvania Trip

Sat, 23 May 2009 00:34:55 GMT

ara and I spent a weekend in Pennsylvania recently, mostly for the purposes of clothes shopping and primarily for Sara to pick up a dress for a wedding later this year. There is no sales tax on clothing (or much else) in Pennsylvania and there are numerous outlet malls in and around the city of Lancaster.

Using Toll roads, the drive is about 8 hours. We decided to take more scenic routes and avoid toll roads, so it took longer. This was the first time that I’d driven through large amounts of New York State, and you can see why the area is known as New England. There are many familiar trees and rolling green fields scattered with dandelions. Excusing the common use of wood panelling on houses and the road signs, I could see the resemblance between here and parts of the western most areas of the West Midlands where I grew up (in particular the rural areas of Herefordshire/Worcestershire/Shropshire areas).

As incredibly tempting as it is to spend an entire column knocking Americans, I will try to keep much of it under control. The border was yet another experience, though. Not as bad as previous times, but having crossed the border by car into New York State numerous times I still believe the attitudes of the immigration control officers are generally poor and heavy handed. I don’t expect them to offer to take me out for a drink, but I also don’t appreciate being spoken to like an idiot (even if I was one) like I was this time, or having surly individuals slamming around the place because they’re so superior now they’ve been given a badge and a gun.

Sara and I talked about the attitudes of Americans and we tend to agree that the problem with American society basically comes from the top. Some of the most despicable people end up in charge and they treat the people below them like dirt. It filters down from the very top and works it’s way down through anyone with any authority. It’s no surprise that when someone gets a bit of authority after they’ve been kicked around for a while, they then start kicking out themselves. That’s how bullying works.

Another observation about America is that it’s a lot further from it’s British roots than Canada is. You hear British accents on Canadian tv and radio on a regular basis. For some reason British accents are nearly always used in commercials for cleaning products here. Winston Churchill’s statue stands proudly near City Hall (although he had a length of bird shit on his head last time I saw him). You get to see the Union Jack from time to time in Toronto. It’s in the Ontario flag, too. Of course the US Flag is red, white and blue like another flag that came before it, but there is an extreme desire to believe in freedom and independence in the USA so I’m sure America not only invented the flag from scratch, they probably invented the colours it uses too.

In Canada I am asked about my accent fairly regularly. Particularly when I’m working. I can have a day at work where up to four people will ask me where abouts in Britain I’m from. In America, I didn’t get this once. I’m undecided whether it’s because being British is to be un-American and therefore not a good thing or whether it’s simply because people are generally less chatty, less friendly than them folks up in the great white north.

People working in the service industry are treated quite harshly in the USA. In the UK, the usual phrasing when you are asking for something is to say “Can I have a mug of coffee, please?". In Canada the phrasing tends to be along the lines of “Can I get a coffee, please?". From what I heard in the US, it tends to be “I’ll take a coffee". It seemed to be fairly normal for people to just reach across and tap a waitress on the shoulder rather than just say “Excuse me". The usual suggestion is that not all Americans are arrogant and impolite, and of course that is true. However every observation that I have written about here was truly witnessed and took place in the course of just two days.

Going back to the border crossing for a moment, the usual procedure involves driving up to several lines of traffic queueing at barricades like toll-booths. At this point, travel documents (IE passports) are shown. As a non-Canadian/non-US citizen I am then made to park the car and sit in a waiting room with usually about a dozen other people of varied ethnicity. I then get called to a window where I am questioned about my plans. I have to give an address. I usually have to outline the nature of the relationship I have with Sara. I have to give my fingerprints and they take a photograph of me. They then place a card in my passport which I’m meant to surrender when I leave else it “might cause delays upon re-entry” (except nobody ever takes it). I’m then relieved of about $6.

When returning to Canada I am asked what goods I have purchased (for tax purposes), whether I have alcohol, tobacco or firearms and that’s generally it. On this occasion I was asked if I’ve been to Mexico due to the flu-outbreak. But, yeah. They then let me in. It is, however, the USA that believes above anywhere else on the planet in “freedom".

Anyway, far too much ranting.

Pennsylvania is a very pretty state. The weather wasn’t too kind to us as we arrived. There was a tourist information centre (or “center") near the border with a sign saying something like “I’m in Pennsylvania” out the back overlooking a very picturesque valley. Unfortunately is was misty from the rain and I didn’t want to kill my camera. That was the story of the first day, really. It was a nice drive with a fair bit of wildlife. Sara saw a bear by the side of the road, but I managed to miss it. We ate our first American meal when we pulled into an Arby’s (fast-food burger). We forgot how LARGE US sizes are and nearly died as a carton of “medium” fries stuck to our hearts and lungs.

The following day was mostly spent shopping. Prices on clothes were really low, but shopping for clothes isn’t something that excites me to the point of actually being able to write anything about it. As a bookstore employee I found it interesting to browse around a Borders bookstore. Canadian books are very expensive in comparison to books in the USA. This is something I’m going to write about another time because the reaction some Canadians have to this makes me want to go on a murder-spree. Anyway, we ate too much on a couple more occasions today and in the evening we went to a race track to watch some races. I think we probably lost more than we won, but not much. I have this annoying habit of picking an outsider and writing it down but not betting on it and refusing to tell anyone who it is. I then grin stupidly when it wins. As soon as I place an actual bet, it loses. I did this with three or four horses during the night and had we actually bet (and won) we would have left laughing with a case full of green notes. I even correctly guessed the first 3 horses in one race.

Our flying visit to Pennsylvania came to an end the next day. We had to leave fairly early as it is a long drive and we wanted to go back via the city of Eerie in New York State. It turned into a very long drive when we got a call from our hotel saying I’d forgotten my laptop. We were an hour and a half into the drive, so we basically lost 3 hours of driving time.

Eerie was cold. I dipped my feet into it and it made my bone-marrow scream in pain. It’s big as well. Just like all the great lakes. To my experience of living on a tiny island, these lakes may as well be the sea. The drive became even more frustrating because a bunch of Tamil “protesters” had blocked one of the main highways in Toronto. I don’t want to write more about that because I don’t want to give them the attention they’re looking for. The situation they are protesting is complicated and it’s hard to know the truth of what is going on. I did see video showing the Tamil protesters assaulting police officers, though.

Here’s a few pics of Eerie.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Cape Enrage, New Brunswick

Wed, 06 May 2009 01:10:01 GMT

Cape Enrage, New Brunswick
Cape Enrage peninsula south of Moncton in New Brunswick, Canada.

The red rock familiar to Eastern Canada juts out into the bay as mist common around The Bay of Fundy rolls in-land.

St Ann's Bay

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 17:24:29 GMT

St Ann's Bay
The coast of St Ann's Bay in Englishtown, Nova Scotia, Canada

Bald Eagle

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:45:55 GMT

Bald Eagle
A Bald Eagle catching a fish in Nova Scotia

Dana

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 02:34:08 GMT

Dana
One of a series of pictures I took of my cousin, Dana.

Sara, Guildwood Park 1

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 03:05:30 GMT

Sara, Guildwood Park 1
First in a number of portraits I took of my wife at Guildwood Park in Toronto

Sara, Guildwood Park 2

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 03:02:30 GMT

Sara, Guildwood Park 2
Second in a number of portraits I took of my wife at Guildwood Park in Toronto

One Week

Tue, 07 Apr 2009 23:20:17 GMT

Went to the movies a week or so ago and watched movie called One Week starring Joshua Jackson. It’s very Canadian, and many of the early scenes are filmed around Toronto. It’s a movie worth watching out for, if it makes it over in the UK. If not, you can probably download it from your favourite illegal source.

Trailer from youtube is here:

If you are viewing this post via a syndicated website such as Facebook, you will need to visit http://www.anythingbutthepoutine.com to see the video.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

10 Days In England - Part Three

Sun, 05 Apr 2009 12:24:15 GMT

Sara had one final day teaching at school. Once she was done we took a drive to Norwich. Since I am so painfully sad, I was pleased to be able to tick Norwich off my list of cities in the UK that I’ve visted. I was then slightly disappointed to realise that I’d only visited 23 of the 50 cities in England. This is the kind of thing that matters to me. By the way, Sara and I had a discussion about what actually constitutes “visiting” a city. For example, I’ve driven through Sheffield. We agreed skirting around it on the motorway and driving past it through The Peak District doesn’t count as visiting. I think Nottingham was my most tenuous city to have “visited". I’ve driven around it twice and I presented a radio show on University Radio Nottingham. Every other city was less tenuous than that, up as far as Worcester where I used to go nearly every day.

ANYWAY. Norwich was officially not tenuous according to the point scoring system that Sara and I devised. We were excellent at looking like tourists. I supposed I technically was a tourist, having been living out of the UK for a year now and having never been to Norfolk. Norwich is a nice city. It suffers from the same homogenisation as many British city/town centres, but it seems to be able to carry it’s own character.

We weren’t able to get to Norwich until late, and sadly the castle and cathedral were at opposite ends of town. We opted to visit the cathedral, without realising there were two of them. We first came to St John The Baptist Cathedral. As far as Cathedrals go, it was… well, it was a cathedral. Quite a large one. I’m not really impressed that much by them, however we began making our way back to the city centre and we stumbled upon signs pointing to another cathedral. Norwich Cathedral, as it turned out to be, is quite beautiful. I’m not a religious person and I’m not really into religious buildings (despite having visited more than my fair share). This was one of the most beautiful I’ve seen. Again, I’m not an expert on architecture by even the furthest stretch of the imagination and I’m too lazy to bring up Wikipedia or Google to find out what work has been done on the cathedral, but it seems to just feel a lot older and better preserved than many cathedrals. It’s very gothic inside and we were fortunate enough to have disturbed a musical practice, so the pipe organ was blaring ominously away.

This is St John The Baptist Cathedral. Sadly I didn’t get any of Norwich Cathedral as it was dark by the time we got there.

We decided that Norwich would be a good place to go to get ourselves a famous British-Indian curry. Maybe we just chose a bad Indian Restaurant, but the food wasn’t great. It was very oily and there wasn’t much actual curry to dip one’s naan into.

Much of the rest of the trip involved driving around visiting family and friends. On Saturday we took a slow drive up from Kings Lynn to Manchester. The journey saw us take the A1(M) North and scoot around Sheffield and through the beautiful Peak District. We dropped of Sara’s friend Joanna so that she could head off to Liverpool to sense The Beatles atmosphere while we visited a friend of mine who was celebrating his 10 Year Wedding Anniversary. It was good to catch up with some of the guys from teamfishcake.co.uk

On (Mothering) Sunday we headed back South and visited my Mum and Brother. We then spent various time re-visiting her and my Dad in Birmingham. We went out for Indian food, which was really good this time - we were glad we tried again after Norwich. i ended up spending far too much money on clothes in Birmingham (and again at Heathrow). We also went out for a meal with my brother on one of the nights to a pub somewhere between Stourport and Worcester.

All-in-all, the trip flew by particularly quickly. I’m wondering whose turn it is to come to Toronto, so I get to play the tour guide.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

10 Days In England - Part Two

Sat, 04 Apr 2009 13:46:00 GMT

During my second day in England, Sara was once again teaching in Kings Lynn. Since there was an outside possibility that Sara and I would be living in Kings Lynn if things in her class went particularly well, I thought it might be wise to drop into the town centre and take a look around.

Well… meh. Maybe I was just in a bad mood, but Kings Lynn was phenomenal in it’s averageness. It has a few streets lined with shops with the usual names which could have been picked up from any one of many other towns around the UK and plonked down here. There’s a harbour, which is quite scruffy, and there is a tourist information office which was closed.

Kings Lynn seems to be a fairly conservative/middle class area, but unlike Holt which I wrote about last time, residents of Kings Lynn don’t really have any reason to be quite so parochial. A case in point is that Kings Lynn is called Kings Lynn, but many locals (and you see evidence of this online) in a particularly chuckle worthy bout of pretentiousness like referring to it as Lynn Regis because it means the same thing in Latin.

I have two points to make about that. The first one is that, beyond academic use and scientific naming, Latin hasn’t been spoken in England for quite a while now. The second point is that ‘Bum Nugget’ and ‘Arse Biscuit’ also mean the same thing.

I took some photos of Bum Regis, and to be fair, there are some scenic enough areas. The pictures are on another camera and I can’t be bothered to upload them. Instead, here’s a brief transcript of a conversation I had on Twitter where I was bothered by a Kings Bum Nugget resident. He must have approached this conversation and found my original post by sitting at his computer and specifically searching for people talking about his lovely town.

@stuhall: I wasn’t really all that impressed by Kings Lynn, to be honest.
@otherperson: @stuhall Kings Lynn wasn’t all that impressed by you either. Maybe you got off on the wrong foot.

At which point I called him a name.

Sara and I on the beach at Hunstanton

Later that evening we drove to the coast to get something to eat in Hunstanton. Hunstanton has a population of less than 5000 people who are living in the 1970s. It’s a fairly typical UK seaside town which is still living off the glories of the 1950s-1970s when Brits would flock to the beach for their annual holiday. This has it’s own particular charm, but when it’s still early in the year in chilly mid-March, you can’t help but wonder who (besides Sara and I) would come here.

We had a stroll along the slightly muddy beach and watched birds. Hunstanton is one of, if not the only, East coast ‘resort’ where you can see the sun set over the sea, since you’re actually looking in a Northerly direction across The Wash. The flip side of the coin is that The Wash doesn’t illicit scenes of golden beaches and sand dunes.

In defence of Hunstanton, we didn’t get much time to look around. We were there to eat. We ate fish and chips in a pub and perhaps in retrospect we should have gone for the more greasy chip shop variety like you’re meant to at the beach and we could have fed the fat birds.

I have a day job, so I’ll continue this… sometime.
To be continued.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

10 Days In England - Part One

Sat, 04 Apr 2009 04:42:05 GMT

A week ago I was back in England visiting my family and meeting up with my wife Sara, who was on an exchange-type programme. Sara actually arrived there a couple of weeks before me and had been spending her time in Kings Lynn, Norfolk teaching kids at one of the schools in the town. When I arrived there Sara hadn’t quite finished her tour of duty, so I hung around Norfolk while she taught and I visited a couple of places.

War memorial outside the grounds of Sandringham Palace

On the first evening I took Sara and her friend who was also teaching in Kings Lynn to the nearby Sandringham Palace. Well, just outside it, anyway. It was closed for the season. Like a trio of tourist-losers, we were hoping that perhaps we could catch a glimpse of the palace from outside the grounds, but it was not to be. The best I came away with was a picture of the not-so-scary looking gargoyles on the iron fences and the memory of Sara’s friend almost getting run over by a coach travelling too fast as it approached to park in roughly the position she was initially stood.

Guarding the entrance to Sandringham against pesky out-of-season tourists

Stood outside the gates to the palace. Moments before this picture was taken, Joanna was stood here and a coach careened onto the gravel area at frightening-miles-per-hour.

The sun breaking through the trees as twilight approaches.

Since Sara was still teaching, the next day I visited a small town called Holt. Apparently there are several places called Holt in England (and one in Wales), but in the interests of not spending several thousand pounds on petrol, I went to the nearest one. Holt in Norfolk has a population of around 3,500 and is a typical middle-England pleasant retirement kinda town with ridiculous house prices. It’s a market town with many crafty and antiquarian stores and it’s fair share of tea rooms. There is a church (St. Andrews) and it’s basically all very jolly and picturesque. I took a brief stroll around, but it was quite chilly. I dove into a tea room and had the mandatory tea and scone (not as nice as in Devon, but not bad either). Basically it was all rather pleasant and that’s about it.

Courtyard with various stores

Everyone drives cars like this in Holt.

Graveyard inside the grounds of St Andrews church.

That evening Sara and I went out to a Chinese buffet, which was pretty cool. It was buffet-a-la-carte. You chose a couple of items at a time from the menu and the food was brought over to you. We ate far too much good but bad food (good tasting, bad for your health) and crashed back at our hotel.

Still to come: Stu spends too much money in Birmingham and Stu makes diplomatic error - offends residents of Kings Lynn via Twitter.

To be continued in the next awfully exciting update at Anything But The Poutine dot com

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

The Baby Sham - Trailer

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 14:28:34 GMT

The Baby Sham - Trailer

Sat, 28 Mar 2009 14:28:34 GMT

The Baby Sham - Trailer

I'm a stranger here myself

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 14:36:37 GMT

A lot of people reading this will already be aware that I’m currently back in the UK on a visit/vacation/holiday type thing, although it’s possible that someone has randomly stumbled upon this page after mashing their keyboard like a room full of infinite monkeys.

My flight was pretty decent, which makes a change. Between Sara and I, we have had some pretty unfortunate luck when it comes to travelling to and from The UK. I’m running at about a 50% success rate when it comes to choosing a flight that has no major delay. I’ve had mundane delays: The cabin lights wouldn’t turn off and we couldn’t take off for about 20 minutes (British Airways). I’ve had frustrating, needless delays: 19 hour delay because a baggage handler broke the cargo door and it wouldn’t close (Zoom Airlines). And Sara has had a particularly terrifying delay (terrifying for me) where I switched on the news to see that a plane had crashed at Pearson airport shortly before Sara was due to land. Through the fire and smoke it took a few second to confirm that it wasn’t Sara’s Air Canada flight, but was that infamous Air France flight that had skidded off the end of the runway. That night, Sara was diverted to Ottawa where she spent several hours on the tarmac sat on the plane while the airport authorities bused up staff from Toronto to handle the immigration desks. She then had to take a 4 hour bus ride back down to Toronto.

So yes, a twenty minute delay waiting for our gate to open up was really nothing, and the pilot needn’t have apologised three times.

I arrived at Heathrow in one (tired) piece and met my Dad who drove us back to his house near Birmingham. I spent the night there and have since driven down to Kings Lynn, where Sara is currently teaching at a High-School populated by mildly rude children. While she’s been at school I’ve visited Holt and Kings Lynn town centre. With Sara I’ve also visited Hunstanton and tonight we’re going to Norwich.

A few of the things I’ve missed whilst out of England are food based. Namely Chinese food and Indian food. That’s not to say that you can’t get Chinese and Indian food in Toronto, one of the most ethnically diverse cities in “The West". But it’s not quite the same. It’s almost as if the Chinese came over to Britain and announced that they were bring food from their culture with them and The British, with their conservative and slightly anti-foreign attitudes said, “Bugger this foreign food stuff, it’s all… oh… actually, that’s quite good. Better add a bit of curry to it and fuck off with your chopsticks.”

There’s something a bit unique about anglo-chinese chinese food, that I can’t quite place. The same goes for Indian food. I’m sure there are good Indian food places in Toronto (there’s a couple on Queen Street), it’s just that there are a lot of bad and very-average ones.

Since arriving back in the UK, I have had the pleasure of, as the English so delicately put it, “eating Chinese” in a place near our hotel. TonightSara, her friend Joanna, and I will be going into Norwich and we intend to “have an Indian". To me, these terms that I have quoted, sound like a kind of ethnic sexual diversification.

And that’s why I named this post “I’m a stranger here myself". It’s the name of one of my favourite Bill Bryson books. Bill Bryson was born in The USA and moved to England. He spent several years in The UK, but he then went back to The USA for a while. He wrote a series of columns for a UK newspaper about how he felt awkward and out of place being back “home". I kinda feel the same way.

A lot of things feel quite strange to me. On my second day, still in Birmingham, I really couldn’t believe the strength of the accent. There were big black Lenny Henry type men with thick Brummie accents which made me feel acutely aware of my own, not accent, but dialect. I find it difficult to ask for directions to “the toilet", because toilet is a slightly crude word to use in North America… but asking for the washroom in The UK is at best a little bit pompous and at worst baffling. Maybe it’s not so bad when you have a North American accent like my wife. People will realise that… well… you’re North American. But with a British accent, you sound like a twat.

The price of gas, as I can’t prevent myself from calling it, is astro-fucking-nomical. I can’t get over the fact that I’ve spent £85 on fuel in less than a week, just travelling from Birmingham to Kins Lynn and around the area. Over $150! That would see you to North Bay and back 4 or 5 times. Cost of petrol in UK is about 90p ($1.60) per litre. In Toronto it’s about 46p (86c) per litre. Arggh!

I’m in a position where I am no longer entirely sure what the hell is going on when I walk into a cafe. Am I paying for the things I order first? Do I eat it first? Are they staring at me because they’re expecting me to pay? “I’ll bring it over to you". Oh, okay then. She’s on the phone. IS SHE CALLING THE POLICE? What about in a pub when you order food? JUST TAKE MY MONEY AND LEAVE ME ALONE. I am, it has to be said, so RELIEVED that I no longer have to keep a “beer tab” that I’m thinking of becoming a raving alcoholic. I can go to a bar without a cloud of neurosis hanging over me the entire time I drink. How much will it cost now? Can I afford another drink? How the fuck much does each beer cost anyway, because I’ll be damned if I know whether what I’m drinking is “Domestic, Import or Premium"? Will my friends pay for their drinks, or will they forget and walk out leaving me to pay for them? How much tip is 15% on-top of three beers? JUST TAKE MY MONEY AND LEAVE ME ALONE.

People in England seem to be a lot more friendly than I remember them being. I haven’t seen many chavs, yet. Nor have I had anyone mutter “for fucks sake” when they walk past me in a crowd, because they consider that perhaps I may have been in their way for a moment longer than is strictly necessary in British society. Maybe chavs haven’t been invented in Norfolk yet. It’s very 70s here - especially Hunstanton. Or maybe my memories are mostly based on living in Kidderminster, which I could wholeheartedly believe harbours an above average chav populus.

Maybe it’s because I have spent a great many more hours travelling on the 34/34C Eglinton Ave East Toronto Transit Commission Bus during rush hour, where you get to meet not just the World’s most insane people, but also the World’s rudest most selfish people. Generalisation alert, but why is it nearly always the newer immigrants from alternate cultures (you can interpret that as you wish) who utterly fail to move down the bus to allow people to get on? I can forgive them for not having common sense, but when there are signs everywhere saying “Please move back” and the driver plays a looped recording saying “For passenger convenience, please move back", then I fail to find it in me to forgive them for common courtesy.

Anyway, back on track… It’s quite hard to put into words here, at least in any kind of amusing fashion, how life in England seems to have moved on without me in a lot of ways. In other ways and forms, it seems to have almost been put on pause until I came back. Maybe it’s more of a case that it’s me that’s moved on.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

This is pretty much exactly how my work day goes

Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:44:45 GMT

I’d seen this ages and forgotten about it… thanks to my big gay pal Tony for pointing it out to me:

This is almost exactly what it’s like working at my bookstore… except the customers are seniors (as they call pensioners here).

If you’re viewing this on facebook instead of anythingbutthepoutine.com then you’ll need to click the link below to see the video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbKBrUO8z8Q

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Music To Rock Your Face Right Off It's Head

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 16:15:22 GMT

Bit of a lazy post because I’ve been a little busy writing my teamfishcake article to post here.. Plug: http://www.teamfishcake.co.uk/articles/Immigration_Antipathy

Here’s the soundtrack of what I’m listening to lately, here in Canada. I’m not sure how familiar people in The UK will be with some of these Canadian records/bands. Not sure if they get much airplay. I know the radio over there plays mostly garbage pussy music unless you live in a city where you can get Kerrang or a similar station of if you have a digital radio.

Rock music is appreciated a lot more in North America, and particularly Canada. Canada has a law where a certain percentage of radio airplay has to be by Canadian artists. Although this has minor drawbacks (for example, in a “British Hour", the final song of the hour was introduced as a Canadian band that sounds British) it does give Canadian artists a head start. And there are plenty of decent alternative acts.

Oh, another downside is that on the “Adult Contemporary” stations, you hear Bryan Adams, Celine Dion and Shania Twain all day. But only morons listen to them.

Anyway:

Three Days Grace: Never Too Late

Billy Talent: Turn Your Back
(can’t find a recorded video version)

Matthew Good Band: Hello Time Bomb

Metric: Help I’m Alive
(More of an Indie record by I like it anyway. No video)

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

North Bay

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 01:49:30 GMT

It occurred to me that I’ve been to North Bay several times and I’ve never really written about it. I tend to be crushingly slow to realise the bleeding obvious. BUT! behold! Nearly six years after my first visit to North Bay, here is a post about the place.

The reason that North Bay is even vaguely relevant is because my wife, Sara, attends university in the city, which leads to me visiting said location. She started classes at Nipissing University, North Bay in 2003. We’d actually met up in Toronto when I first landed, but Sara had to head up to North Bay soon after we arrived. I drove up there a few days later.

North Bay sounds beautific. It sounds like a place somewhere hot with golden sands and surfboards and muscles and tits-a-plenty. It sounds like it belongs in Australia. North Bay, as glorious as the name sounds, isn’t quite like that. It’s a “pleasant little place". Gateway to The North, they say.

North Bay has been able to thrive in part thanks to it’s transportation connections. A couple of highways pass near North Bay. There is also an important rail connection and an airport. The population is 54,000. (About the same population as Kidderminster, England). Many of the jobs are in the public sector.

North Bay has a nice board walk by Lake Nipissing, some nice nature trials near Nipissing University, a cinema and errr… The city is located on The Canadian Shield, which gives it a rugged appearance on the outskirts of the city amongst the hills and the roads that cut through them.

A Ship moored on Lake Nipissing

Lake Nipissing

Me stood infront of Lake Nipissing

The downtown area features a high street with stores along it, a few of which are independent stores. There’s a half decent second hand book store. There’s a few bars selling beer, each bar with it’s own particular reputation amongst locals. If you’re looking for a cougar, North Bay is probably not the least appealing place in Ontario.

North Bay is, at least locally, famous for it’s Shadflys (known as Mayflys in most of the rest of the world). They descend upon North Bay en masse for a few days every year. They’ve gone now, but I remember seeing some wedding pictures I’d found on google. Evidently the wedding was planned at just the wrong time, because the Bride’s car were covered in the things.

A small lake behind Nipissing University

Chipmunk in a tree behind Nipissing University on one of the nature trails. They’re funny little animals… very cautious and easily scared, but they’re so inquisitive they can’t help but stick their head out of their hiding spot to watch what you’re doing.

Campus Trails Map. Beware the Rigour Mortis trail.

There have been a couple of times I’ve visited North Bay while Sara is in classes, so with time to kill I’ve walked the trails behind the University. There are meant to be moose, wolves and bears on the prowl but I was sure to go during the middle of day the less likely I am to be eaten. There are some pretty walks with a meandering river and small waterfalls.

When it comes to winter time, though, I’m not sure how you’d quite get by. It gets damn cold, and once the wind starts blowing… If you like winter sports so much that you don’t mind doing them all the time then you’re laughing. Ice fishing is popular and so is riding around and around and around on snowmobiles.

I’ve been to North Bay once during winter. The cinema becomes particularly popular (even more). When I was there, Lake Nipissing was frozen over and was covered in several feet of snow. Especially where it had been blown into drifts. “Out on the ice” (as they say), it was even colder. It actually hurts your bones. My skull ached after removing my hood for a few minutes. I wore a scarf around my mouth which I was breathing through in order to keep my mouth, neck and ears warm. The condensation of my breath froze on my scarf. Sara went without a scarf directly around her mouth, which caused her breath to blow back into her face. It froze in her hair making it turn white. Her eyelashes also froze from her watering eyes.

Sara with frozen-ness

Me with baren-ness

This would be me losing my footing and sinking into the snow. Note the reeds, which only grow in water. Thus proving the recent existence of a lake.

My next visit to North Bay is probably in April. It will be warmer.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Left Or Right?

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 07:18:20 GMT

A lot of people in Canada tease me when it comes to converations about driving. I actually get teased for a lot of things, but this one comes up quite a lot. In England, they say, we drive on the wrong side of the road. It’s a bit of harmless fun and I have to be able to take a joke with the amount of piss-taking that I engage in myself. I find it an interesting subject, though, so thought I’d blabber on a bit about the history of it here.

I don’t want to start taking sides or saying that driving on one particular side of the road is better than the other. It really doesn’t make any difference which side of the road you drive on. Well, it obviously does if you’re driving in the opposite direction to everyone else. What I mean to say is that it doesn’t really matter if everyone is driving on the left or if everyone is driving on the right. Just so long as the driver is sat on the side of the car nearest to on-coming traffic. Why? So that the driver can better judge the distance from on-coming traffic and so that it’s easier to see opposing traffic when attempting to overtake. Also, so that any passengers leaving the vehicle are stepping out onto the side of the vehicle away from traffic.

Spaghetti Junction, Birmingham, England: Makes no sense

British people can take a little bit of comfort in the knowledge that it used to be the case that practically everyone used to drive on the left hand side. Except I don’t really mean drive. We’re talking about riding horses. Why did people start on the left hand side? Because it’s easier to mount a horse on the left when you are right handed. Also, if you were wearing a sword, it would be on the left of your body. If you got on from the right of the horse, your sword would be in the way. Another reason is that if you are on the left of the road, other people facing you would be to your right. This means that any fighting with swords could be done with your stronger right hand. Imagine two horses and their knights in a jousting competition. The horse and knight are on the left hand side of the divide so that the jousting weapons can be manipulated with the right hand.

So why did people begin driving on the right? There are several reasons, which I’m just going to list without turning them into mini-novels:

In France and The USA heavy goods began being haulted by multiple horses and the driver would sit on the left rear horse so that he could whip the horses with his right hand. Because the load was large and clumbersome, however, he would drive on the right so that he could be sure that he was keeping clear of the wheels of oncoming vehicles (wagons, etc..)

In France again, the aristocracy initially travelled on the left like in Britain. They would force commonors to move to the right. However, when the aristocracy became unpopular in the French Revolution, they moved to the right with the commoners to keep a lower profile.

Belgium, The Netherlands, Luxembourg, Switzerland, German, Poland, Russia and parts of Spain and Italy began driving on the right once they were conquered by Napoleon. Interestingly there are former Dutch colonies that still drive on the left because they weren’t conquered by Napoleon.

Highway 401, Ontario, Canada: *Quite* large

Finland moved to the right when conquered by Russia

The USA began moving to the right in the late 1700’s and into the 1800’s after gaining independence from England. The reason seems to be just to be different and independant from Britain and because of the influence from other European immigrants moving to the USA.

In Canada, they drove on the left in English occupied areas and on the right in French occupied areas. Most provinces began driving on the right after WWII in order to conform with The USA. Newfoundland drove on the left up until 1947.

Portugal changed to the right in the 1920s. Her colonies also changed to the right - except any colonies that bordered countries driving on the left.

Italy had some cities driving on the right and others on the left, due to tram and train infrastructure. It became law to drive on the right everywhere in 1926.

Spain was similar, but changed in 1924.

Austria was half-conquered by Napoleon and, as such, split with half driving on the right, half on the left. They drove on the right only in 1938 when conquered by Hitler.

Czechoslovakia and Hungary began driving on the right in 1939, also once conquered by Hitler.

Gibraltar (A British colony) began driving on the right in 1929 (it borders Spain).

China changed in 1946

Korea changed after WWII under US colonial rule.

Sweden, the only mainland European country on the left, changed to the right in 1967 despite 82.9% of people voting against the idea in a 1955 referendum.

Iceland changed in 1968

The four countries in Europe who drive on the left today are The United Kingdom, Republic of Ireland (which borders Northern Ireland, part of the UK), Cyprus and Malta.

There are 74 countries in the world who drive on the left. They larger and more influential ones in addition to those mentioned above are Australia and New Zealand, India, Japan and South Africa.

Ok, ok. I said I wouldn’t take sides, but I can’t resist…
There are 166 countries in the world that gave into those big famous wartime losers Napoleon and Hitler or otherwise don’t care that they are being turned into American lap dogs by driving on the right hand side of the road.

I stole much of the information here from this interesting page: http://users.telenet.be/worldstandards/driving%20on%20the%20left.htm written by Conrad H. McGregor

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Permanent Residence Card

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 13:54:48 GMT

My Permanent Residence Card finally arrived in the mail on Wednesday. I was starting to sweat, because I wouldn’t be able to leave the country without it… I’m flying to England in a little over two weeks. I’m glad it didn’t go *RIGHT* to the wire like it did with my work visa at the end of last year.

If you leave Canada without the card, then you can’t re-enter the country without begging for permission from a Consulate. Probably fine in a life and death situation where you need to go back to your country of origin in the event of a funeral or whatever. Probably not so okay in my situation.

The cards are quite attractive little things. It’s a shiny blueish colour with a silhouette of the lay of Canada at the top and a shiny Maple Leaf at the bottom. The card has a swipe strip and machine readable data (with the chevrons etc…) that you also see on a passport.

If all goes to plan, I won’t lose it.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Billy Connolly's Journey To The Edge Of The World

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 03:09:24 GMT

A new series started on ITV 1 in The UK on Thursday night. “Billy Connolly’s Journey To The Edge Of The World” follows Billy Connolly as he travels from Halifax, Nova Scotia up through Newfoundland (briefly entering New Brunswick) and around the barren lands of the Canadian Arctic Circle, through Nunavut, The Northwest Territories and the Yukon Territory. He then travels south into British Columbia, finishing his journey on Victoria Island.

There’s a book to compliment the show that’s available (UK only, out April in Canada):

The first episode features his journey from Halifax through Nova Scotia via Cape Breton island, where Sara and I recently visited. It was great to see the coast of Cape Breton and the roads twisting through the National Park and the Cabot Trail. I hope we can get to visit Newfoundland sometime, though I think a cross-Canada roadtrip is something we’re both aching to do.

There’s a very funny scene where Connolly visits a scarecrow maker. As soon as he mentioned where he was heading, Sara and I laughed. We remember driving through Nova Scotia and seeing this house that was surrounded by bizarre scarecrows, many of them resembling celebrities or British royalty. We didn’t have time to pull over, but we were a bit spooked by their strange, zombie like presence. Connolly gets hold of the guy who made them. He is an Acadian guy with a good sense of humour, and it’s a funny little piece.

There’s a few annoying pieces in the show… notably where Billy Connolly talks about how he’s “unsure” about how he feels about Nova Scotians acting “more Scottish than Scots” in an attempt to find solace in an identity. It strikes me that a possible reason that he would adopt such a standpoint is because perhaps he feels insecure about his identity being “hijacked".

Another scene I found amusing was when he visited “The Titanic Graveyard” in Nova Scotia. There is a grave where a man named ‘J. Dawson’ is buried, a victim of the Titanic. In the film “Titanic” Leonardo Di Caprio plays a character named Jack Dawson. In the J. Dawson grave is a buried a man named JOSEPH Dawson. No relation. But the tourists (notably all Japanese) either don’t care or (more likely) have no idea it’s not the same person. Connolly diplomatically says as much, but it would have been hilarious to hear him joking with the crew off camera, which I’m convinced is exactly what he did.

It’s bound to be illegal, but if you’re in Canada or you just missed the show, you can download it from the usual places. It’s available on Usenet. The first episode is also on Uknova.com but because it’s coming out on DVD, they probably won’t upload any more episodes.

New shows are aired on Thursday evening on ITV 1.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

Toronto Zoo

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 17:09:39 GMT

I went to the Zoo on Saturday with Sara and her Gran. It’s one of her favourite places to visit so it seemed like a good place to spend the afternoon on Valentines Day. We also went out to the cinema and for a meal to ensure that we weren’t completely unconventional.

The zoo is really big an it takes a special effort to be able to make it all the way around the grounds. It is seperated into different zones which roughly represent geographical locations around the world, and the animals associated with those locations. There’s a “zoo mobile” (a miniture electrical train) which carries a couple of dozen passengers around the zoo, stopping at stations in each of the zones. It doesn’t run out of season, though.

Toronto Zoo is one of the biggest zoos in the world comprising of 710 acres. There are over 16,000 animals on the site including fish and invertebrates.

I have a few favourites at the zoo. Probably top of the list are the Siberian Tigers, especially the tiger cubs Jack and Coco. I took a few pictures of them last year when they were still fairly small. It’s surprising to see how big they are now.

Above: Jack’s Mum (I think…) | Below: Jack

There is also a young Orang-utan of about 3 years old. His name is Budi (Wise one in Indonesian). He was mostly throwing himself around his enclosure and generally playing around by placing a bucket over his own head. His Mum then came and started rough playing with him. She pushed him off the fence he was climbing on, so he started sulking. You could see his bottom lip stick out a little. Then, while he Mum came for a drink of water from the enclosure moat, Budi came running back up for a make-up hug.

Finally, a new addition to the zoo was a baby mandrill, born on December 2nd. I can’t remember if she has a name yet, but I managed to get a decent picture of her. Her Mum’s name is Annette and Dad is called Jabba.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

is using a new account at http://twitter.com/stuhall

Tue, 17 Feb 2009 16:55:43 GMT

is using a new account at http://twitter.com/stuhall

Pressure Update

Sat, 07 Feb 2009 15:06:24 GMT

Several people have been bugging me to update. I’ve just been very busy with work and other things since getting back from North Bay.

I was granted permanent residency a few days ago. That’s a massive relief, although I still don’t feel as though all the dust has settled. Permanent Residency allows me to stay and work here, but it’s still possible to surrender your right to stay here if you spend too long out of the country. I think I will feel more settled once/if I get citizenship. There’s a few other things that I need to work on (such as a reasonable wage) to feel more settled.

Getting permanent residency was a bit of a pain in the arse. It’s funny in retrospect, but things didn’t go entirely smoothly. I was initially supposed to go to The Civic Centre in Scarborough. In a letter they told me to bring any correspondence from Immigration, my passport and work visas and a big wad of money in the form of a credit card. $490 (275GBP) to be exact.

Hopefully you’ll understand my point of view when I tell you that when I went along to The Civic Centre in Scarborough, I took the following items:
All correspondence from Immigration
My passport and work visas
A big wad of money in the form of a credit card - $490 (275GBP) to be exact

What they didn’t tell me I needed to bring was my Wife. They *did* apologise, but I was fucking livid to be honest with you. Anyway, they made arrangements for me to come back two days later when Sara was back from North Bay.

The other stupid thing here is that you can’t get a Canadian Credit Card without being a permanent resident, so how I’m supposed to pay for my permanent residence is quite baffling. Well, I could use a cheque, but I don’t have a cheque book either. That’s why Granny had to come with me so I could give her cash to use her card.

The first time I went along the snow was awful. We had about 30cm land that day, so getting to Scarborough Town Centre was a slow drive. Sara’s Gran was driving and let’s just say that she’s a very (very) cautious driver. In fact, she was driving at 30kph (18mph) in a 60kph (37mph). Yes it was snowing, but in Canada you’re driving in a straight line on snow that has been driven on for hours and roads that have been salted. It’s not like waking up at 7am in the morning in England when there’s been bad snow and nobody has ploughed or gritted or driven on it before you. Not to mention that most people have 2 wheel drive vehicles in the UK. We were in a four wheel drive pick-up truck.

So we were late getting there. Granny also likes to park in her favourite parking spots. The Civic Centre has it’s own parking, but in the interests of familiarity, Granny wanted to park near the shopping mall. It was early in the morning. The stores around here open at 10am (and close around 9pm). We were there before 8am, so the parking was blocked off. We then faff around for 10-15 minutes trying to find somewhere else to park.

Once more, in the interests of familiarity, we park outside a Wallmart. It’s part of the shopping mall, but it opens earlier. So we eventually fumble into Wallmart and find a door which leads into the inside of the mall. When we find one, it’s predictably locked. By this time I am officially late.

We traipse back out into the snow and eventually find an unlocked door to walk through the mall to get to the civic centre via an indoors (out of the snow) route. I get into the civic centre, find where I have to go. They’ve started without me.

By started I mean that they are doing some kind of group session. The population of Toronto is massively asian. I don’t want to make the same kind of generalisations here in text that I may or may not have made verbally to friends… but basically the room was predominantly filled with East Asians (to say Oriental is considered offensive in Canada) and a small number of Afro-Caribbeans. That’s fine with me, but I didn’t appreciate having to sit through a nonsense advice on the best way to proceed with learning how to speak English and how to best get a job.

Granted, there are times I have to repeat myself or speak more slowly in order to make myself understood. I do, however, have a more than a general grasp of the English language. And a job.

When I went back the second time with Sara in tow, it was much less frustrating. They weren’t doing a group session. In fact I was seen in an office on my own. There were a couple of paperwork complications… for example, they had my relationship set as common-law instead of married. I didn’t have our marriage certificate with me, but they were able to confirm that I had sent a photocopy of it off to the immigration office a couple of months earlier. I then cocked up my signature in the excitement of everything and I had to fill the forms out again.

They then decided that they weren’t sure if they could take a credit card because their finance person wasn’t in the office…. someone was eventually able to work out how to swipe a card. And we were done…

I was given a sheet of paper which confirms my status for now. I have to wait to get a permanent residence card through the post which will then allow me to get a Social Insurance Card (National Insurance) and health care.

I’m told it takes 6-8 weeks to arrive and I’m NOT allowed to leave the country in the meantime. That makes things terribly exciting, because as of that date, I have a flight to England booked in 6 weeks time. I’m told the card often arrives early. Let’s hope so.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 27

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 19:06:41 GMT

I took a drive down to the Scarborough Bluffs while I still had access to the rental car and took a few pictures. It’s pretty frigid down there while the weather is still so bad.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 26

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 16:06:51 GMT

Back in Toronto… the temperature has gone up a little, but has since dropped back down… causing the snow to try to melt but causing it to freeze as icicles. This was the view from the kitchen window.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 25

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 16:04:49 GMT

A picture across Lake Nipissing to a small island of land with a hut on it. You wouldn’t know there was a lake for all the snow and ice above it. The ice is thick enough to easily drive your car over it. There were tyre marks all through the snow where people took short cuts across the lake.
My drive home was quite eventful. Because the roads are so messy from melting snow and ice and dirt from cars, you have to regularly spray the windscreen. About 3/4 of the way home, I ran out of water in my windscreen wash. I pulled over on a side road but managed to get stuck in the snow. I then proceeded to cut my hand up trying to dig it out (because of the rock salt). Someone eventually towed me out and I crawled home with snow all over the wheels. Fun!

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

265 - Day 24

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 17:04:09 GMT

My gladrags. Dressed up after going out to Sara’s Formal at Nipissing University.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 23

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 15:19:21 GMT

Standing on frozen and snow covered Lake Nipinssing in North Bay. Crazily cold. It’s impossible to smile for photos in such conditions. The top of my head randomly started pounding as I fumbled to find my toque and my hands burnt. Sara’s hair turned white where her breath blew back into her face and froze. Her watering eyes caused her eyelashes to freeze.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 22

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 22:24:20 GMT

On the way up to North Bay… The attempts of the snow to melt were OWNED by the sheer coldness up here and turned to ice as it made its way down the outcrops of the Canadian Shield.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 21

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 13:59:20 GMT

The news coverage of Obama makes it sound as if something exciting it happening.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com

365 - Day 20

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 13:57:57 GMT

At long last, the moment everyone has been waiting for… a picture of the bookstore I work in.

This item was originally posted on anythingbutthepoutine.com