Day 1 – London to Calgary

I had only spent one day in Canada before this trip – it was bloody freezing, so cold that Niagra didn’t fall it just froze. Ciara and i are in the west for two weeks before heading into to the USA to buy guns and celebrate Xmas with the folks, finally going to China for three weeks of noodles and animal cruelty. that’s the national stereotypes out of the way lets get started.

Our flight departed Gatwick Airport with all the necessary criteria:

One hour delay? Check.

Infant with a whale-like lung capacity seated in front of me? Check.

Bad films? Check.

Films fans would do well to avoid the following: Ratatouille (fine for about 9 minutes), Stardust (DeNiro's lowest moment) and good god alive what were the producers thinking when they made The Holiday? Even Cameron Diaz in the obligatory see-through white shirt and knickers scene can't save this wretched, vacuous film.

Luckily, I had a book to read 'A piece of cake' by Cupcake Brown a story of a Californian girl's descent into drugs, gangs, violence and prostitution, however, I couldn't help thinking what a great name Cupcake Brown was for a hooker, with a name like that I don't think she could have chosen her profession any better. As with all these stories she turns her life around and becomes a lawyer, seriously, would you employ a lawyer called Cupcake? The story was written in the vernacular which caused problems when the stewardess asked if I wanted coffee and I replied 'Yol damn right mothafuckin bitch'. I read 200 pages on the plane it's a great book, buy it today.

The flight went from bad to worse when three of the five toilets stopped working which caused the kind of queues only seen outside Primark on an "All items £2' day. Luckily the bastard airline had the cheek to charge for all alcoholic drinks so I didn't have to use them as much as usual.

For whatever reason the flight from London heads North flying over Iceland, Greenland and Canada before turning South to land in Calgary this had the strange effect of us taking off at 13,00 in daylight, the sky turning pitch black after a few hours before landing 9 hours later back in daylight at 16.00.

The temperature on landing was a brisk -6. The staff at the tourist information desk told us there were two ways to get from the airport into Calgary, either a taxi for about $65 or a bus with all the scum bags for £2.50. So the bus it was. Some fella told us where to get off the bus and which train to take but 'the train will be full as it is rush hour'. We discovered that 'rush hour' in Calgary meant being in a carriage with enough room to put up a tent.

With the temperature dropping rapidly we got to where we were staying before frostbite set in. After relaxing for a while and not wanting to fall asleep at 19,00 we decided to go out for a few pints and some food. The temperature had now dropped to a ball-clenching -19 (I'm not sure how Ciara would describe it) and the difference was unbelievable. It was now so cold that after only about 5 minutes I was losing all feeling in my hands and face, we fell through the door of the first pub we got to as though we had trekked the North face of Everest.

What is that thing scouts say about being prepared? Well, I wasn't fucking prepared for this. Even bouyed by 4 pints of (incredibly fine) Canadian beer the short trip home was awful. We made two huge cups of tea to try and get some warmth back and then immediately fell asleep having been travelling for nearly 24 hours.