Canada

Connecting over ice hockey in Montreal

October 13, 2013 Uncategorized

Sport… and ice hockey

I am a self-professed sports fan. While I don’t go crazy about them, I do consider it a mission to attend sporting events wherever I go. This desire has led me to see ice hockey in Canada and France. I’ve watched soccer in England, Peru, and Argentina. I’ve attended cock fighting in Ecuador and bull-fighting in Mexico. Additionally, I’ve also seen hurling in Ireland, fencing in Russia, biathlon in Switzerland and Italy, and the Olympics in USA and Italy.  

Basketball has been my jam since I could walk

I go for the love of competition, for sportsmanship, and to see the joy in the competitors faces. As a former athlete myself, I understand the level of sacrifice needed to achieve success in a person’s chosen field. [I went to college on a volleyball scholarship, but never played a match since the college disbanded the program. I later transferred and participated in fencing on the collegiate level.]

American college football will always be a passion

One of the glorious things about not having plans when visiting somewhere new is allowing for serendipity to take its course. I won tickets to opening night of Montreal Canadiens 2011 season. With my new Slovakian friend Jan, whom I met in the hostel and spent the day exploring old town Montreal, off to the Bell Centre we went. My only previous experience with NHL hockey was with Carolina Hurricanes, and while it was entertaining, North Carolina is not an ice hockey mecca.  

While not actually playing ice hockey, we were pretending to body check each other into the wall whilst ice skating

Connecting with people wherever I am

Montreal, where they have had a hockey team for more than 100 years…or  Boston …or Pittsburgh, can claim that title. Sitting there watching ice hockey, hearing French being spoken all around, talking about the differences between the Canadian version of hockey and the Slovak/central Europe version of hockey, it came to me: this is what life and to a lesser extent travel is all about–sharing positive experiences with people in your world. Jan’s English wasn’t great; my Slovakian was nearly non-existent, neither of us knew French, but we connected with the universal language of sport. Connections matter. People matter. And sport has the unique ability to connect us all.

 

Oh Canada, why you gotta treat me so bad

October 21, 2012 Travel

Travel: It’s not all fun and smooth sailing. Once upon a time, Canada gave me an exceedingly hard time at the border crossing.

My entry to Canada wasn’t smooth. I was questioned like everyone else, but then I was singled out for additional inspection. I guess border guard 1 didn’t like the vague answers I gave him, but what do you do when you don’t have specific plans.. Border guard 2 was female, and I thought maybe she would pat me down or something. They took me and my bags to the area between trains and questioned me more while my underwear was on full display.

Guard:  Where are you going?

Me:  Montreal

Guard: What are you going to see?

Me:  I don’t know. I have never been there

Guard:  Where are you staying? — I showed her the name of the hotel I had written in my notebook–

Is this all the information you have

Me:  Yes

Guard:  Do you have a return ticket?

Me:  Yes

Guard:  Can I see it? — I show her the ticket that leaves from Vermont… Guard:  This ticket leaves from Vermont.  How are you getting there?

Me:  I have a friend who is meeting me here for the weekend…

Guard:  I thought you said you don’t know anyone in Montreal.

Me:  I don’t.  She lives in Vermont.

Guard:  How much money do you have?

Me:  about $100

Guard:  Do you have credit cards?

Me:  Yes

Guard: Why do you carry a backpack

It is what I have

Guard:  What is in your backpack?

Clothes, toiletries, camera

Guard:  Do you have any relatives in Colombia?

NO

Guard:  Why did you go to Colombia?

To visit

Guard:  Why did you go to Ecuador?

TO visit

…and so it went on like this for more that 5 minutes. The female guard asking questions while the male guard searched my luggage.  I assume that either I answered questions satisfactorily or they gave up and decided I wasn’t a risk to Canada’s national security nor was I doing or carrying anything illegal. Two hours after schedule the train rolled into a centeral terminal that was basically closed. I made a quick trip to the ATM to get Canadian funds and had to get a taxi because there are no maps in the train station.
So I get to my hotel, and they do not have a record of my reservation–even though I have a paid in full confirmation email. I do get a bed down in the basement, next to the street….not an ideal location, but I was too tired to complain.