Canada
Canada

Curious what backpackers do in Canada? Discover travel destinations all over the world of travelers writing a travel blog on FindPenguins.

911 travelers at this place:

  • Day91

    Ab jetzt sind wir zu Dritt

    January 2 in Canada ⋅ 🌧 3 °C

    Juhu unser erstes eigenes Auto, es ist ein 2001 Ford Expedition XLT!!!😱😍 Und was ich am tollsten finde, er ist rot !!😋😍Wir haben ihn liebevoll ,,Rusty“ getauft 😊
    Wir haben schon länger überlegt uns hier in Kanada ein Auto zu kaufen, weil es wenn wir Vancouver verlassen kaum öffentliche Verkehrsmittel gibt und wenn mal ein Bus irgendwo hinfährt ist es sehr teuer. Also haben wir uns viele Autos angeguckt und lange nach dem perfekten gesucht. Da unser Budget ja nicht so hoch ist konnten wir natürlich kein brandneues Auto erwarten und müssen mit ein paar Macken leben. ,,Rusty“ wird dieses Jahr 18 Jahre alt und ist somit genauso alt wie wir 🎊😂 Aber er ist immernoch sehr gut in Schuss. Er war die letzten 15 Jahre in der gleichen Familie und wurde deswegen gut gepflegt. Bevor wir ihn gekauft haben, haben wir natürlich einen Mechaniker einen Blick darauf werfen lassen, weil wir von Autos wirklich keine Ahnung haben und wir bei dem niedrigen Preis ein bisschen stutzig waren, ob da dann noch alles funktioniert. Aber ,,Rusty“ hat alles super bestanden, bis auf ein kleines Loch in der Abgasanlage ist alles top. Das macht aber garnichts, weil anders als in Deutschland hier kein TÜV existiert. Mit Umweltfreundlichkeit haben die Kanadier es hier noch nicht so 😅
    Heute haben wir ihn dann abgeholt und die Versicherung abgeschlossen. Anschließend waren wir noch Öl und Getriebeöl auffüllen und sind dann nach Hause gefahren. Auf dem Highway ist uns dann was witziges aufgefallen und zwar dürfen links nur Autos fahren, die 2 oder mehr Personen transportieren. Außerdem darf man auf der Autobahn auch von Rechts überholen. Aber sonst sind die Straßenregeln eigentlich die selben wie in Deutschland.
    Die nächsten Tage haben wir dann vor das Auto zu einem Camper umzubauen, damit wir darin schlafen können. Also werden bald weitere Bilder folgen und wir können unsere Baufortschritte zeigen 😏😊
    Read more

  • Day94

    Bau des Schnäppchenhauses

    January 5 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 8 °C

    Gestern haben wir begonnen unser ,,Haus” auf 4 Rädern zu bauen. Wir haben uns die Tage vorher schon Pläne und Gedanken gemacht und haben alles vermessen. Gestern sind wir dann in den Baumarkt gefahren und haben die Materialien gekauft. Wir konnten uns auch Werkzeug ausleihen, was das Bauen sehr erleichtert hat. Während des Bauprozesses mussten wir unseren Plan noch ein paarmal ändern und es hat eine Weile gedauert bis wirklich alles gepasst hat. Wir mussten ein paar mal improvisieren, aber nach nicht mal einem Tag hatten wir es dann auch schon geschafft 😊Read more

  • Day94

    Unser Schnäppchenhaus

    January 5 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 8 °C

    Und hier sind Bilder vom Ergebnis 😇 Was uns jetzt noch fehlt ist eine Matratze, die wir in den nächsten Tagen besorgen werden und noch ein paar Kleinigkeiten, wie Vorhänge und Decken. Dann kann auch schon der erste Roadtrip starten 😋

  • Day79

    Capilano Park

    December 21, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ☁️ 5 °C

    Heute waren Fynn und ich im Capilano Suspension Bridge Park😇 Die Brücke wurde 1889 eröffnet und ist 70 Meter hoch. Der Park hat aber natürlich auch noch mehr zu bieten als nur diese Brücke. Es gibt viele schöne Wege auf denen man spazieren gehen kann und man hat eine tolle Aussicht auf den Fluss. Das besondere im Dezember sind aber die ganzen Lichter im Park😍😇 Alles wird mit Lichtern geschmückt, wirklich alles ! Es war ein echt toller Tag und hat sich wirklich gelohnt 😊Read more

  • Day78

    Wie viel kann an einem Tag schief gehen?

    December 20, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    Gestern wollten Fynn und ich einen zweiten Versuch starten und mit der Fähre nach Vancouver Island fahren und die Stadt Victoria zu besuchen. Wir sind sehr früh aufgestanden, um die erste Fähre zu erwischen. Dort angekommen mussten wir aber feststellen, dass die Fähren alle gestrichen wurden, wegen dem stürmischen Wetter. Wir haben dann noch 6 Stunden da gewartet und gehofft, dass die Fähre doch noch fährt. Die Zeit haben wir uns dann am Strand vertrieben, wo wir fast weggeweht wurden 😂 Auf den Bildern sieht das alles nicht so krass aus, aber die Wellen waren wirklich sehr hoch. Der Sturm wurde schlimmer und die Fähre natürlich komplett gestrichen😕
    Dann sind wir zurück gefahren und wollten eigentlich auf den Lookout fahren(ein Aussichtsturm, wo man über Vancouver gucken kann). Aber das Wetter war zu schlecht und wir hätten nichts gesehen 😕
    Also haben wir uns umentschieden und wollten in den Botanischen Garten gehen und uns die Lichtershow dort angucken. Wir haben uns auf den Weg gemacht und mussten feststellen, als wir angekommen sind, dass im Großteil von Vancouver Stromausfall ist und wir uns dann natürlich keine Lichtershow angucken können 😂 Bei stürmischem Wetter ist in Kanada immer Stromausfall, weil alle Leitungen oberirdisch sind und die Bäume immer darauf fallen 🙄
    Zusammengefasst haben wir viel erlebt aber halt irgendwie auch garnichts 😂
    Read more

  • Day444

    "I'm not tough enough for this."

    November 28, 2018 in Canada ⋅ 🌙 -12 °C

    Click, click, click, broooooooouuuuuuuhhh. The sound of the helicopter’s turbine engine spooling up and starting. Then, the vibrations begin as the rotors slowly start to gain speed and rock the machine. My head begins to involuntarily shake with the vibrating machine. My nose crinkles as the Jet fuel exhaust is pushed into the cabin by the spinning rotors. We slowly rise and spin off into the empty expanse. It will be 10 hours before we land here again. We will spend the day tracking the coastline next to 3000 ft cliffs looking for polar bears. We will ascend to the tops of these cliffs and scream across the scratched surface of this moonscape looking for bears. We will tuck into craggy fjords, searching for bears. We will survey the water around the rocks, searching for swimmers. Our heads will not stop moving the entire day. We will not talk. We will be concentrating.
    Today, I’m in the back of the helicopter watching the process of bear sampling. The entire door of the helicopter slides open so that the biologist can take the shot that will result in a tiny piece of skin being extracted with the bear being none the wiser. Winter is coming early this year and there has been too much snow already. On this day, the sun is blinding and the winds are calm. There are bears everywhere. There are too many to keep track of. Each time we chase one over a ridge, more come into view. It is like they are multiplying. There are carcasses nearby drawing them in to feed. When the helicopter draws down to allow for a shot, the soft, fresh, powdery snow billows up from the rotor wash, creating instant whiteout blizzard conditions. The pilot is blind; he cannot see bear or land. He pulls up hard and fast out of the cloud of white. The quickness with which the helicopter becomes completely surrounded by white-out conditions because of the blown snow is scary. He cannot fly in this.
    We cannot see. He tries driving the bear onto higher points of rock that have been windswept of their snow. The snow flies all around and swirls into the helicopter, sending icy currents of air and snow crystals down my neck and up my back. My hands are becoming numb inside my gloves. I look at the other biologist holding, bare-handed, the cold steel gun outside the helicopter and cringe. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this. I'm not tough enough. All I can think about is how bad my frozen toes hurt and the painful blasting cold ice crystals on my face. We swirl down again to try once more for a shot. The snow blows. The cold is unrelenting. It doesn’t stop. There is no escape. I just sit and record the data shouted out with my increasingly numb fingers. I try to reload the gun’s magazines, fumbling with the small charges because of my reduced dexterity. We’re searching for the dart. Well, those folks on the right side of the helicopter are searching for the darts because us on the left can’t see anything. I sit rigid while the biologist hangs out the side of the helicopter like he’s a gunner searching for the Viet Cong. Wind is rushing in. I work on controlling my mind and accepting what is. I tell my brain that I will not die of this cold. I will not lose any toes or fingers. I am fine. This is temporary pain. I must be tough. I have been told I’m tough, but I know the truth of it. I’m not tough. This is so hard. It’s not worth it. None of it. It's too hard.
    Why have I tried so hard and sacrificed so much to be here? That is what is running through my head. Why am I not walking along peaceful, tree-lined streets to eat Thai food with my husband? Why am I not home, curled on the couch with my loving pet cat, binge-watching Netflix? Why am I not flying off to see my family and friends at my discretion? Why am I here, in this helicopter, literally freezing?
    Everything about this job is hard to me. I’ve been gone from my home in Igloolik for over 70 days now, splitting my time between shacks and hotel rooms in remote communities. I haven’t had a private room since the first week I left Igloolik. It is hard to share space for so long with strangers, or anyone for that matter. There is nowhere to escape. I escape into my private world by inserting my earbuds. Living this way is not easy. Sitting on a cold cold seat to crap in a bucket is not nice. Fueling up a helicopter from cached fuel drums in the Arctic is cold and miserable. The drums full are 400lbs. These drums are now frozen to the ground. The wind from the chopper is biting and unrelenting. Sitting in the helicopter for hours and hours, the ear protection doesn't eliminate the high-pitched whine of the rotors. The helicopter's scream feels, at times, unbearable. I drug myself every day with anti-nausea medication just so I can endure being in the helicopter. When it’s windy, I have to take another pill and top up with an anti-vomiting pill. The pills make me drowsy. So drowsy; my head lolls and snaps, but I Have to stay awake. It’s my job. It is so hard to fight those pills every day. I can feel when the sleep-inducing effects wear off; I can feel it almost instantly. It’s like I’ve awoken from a full night’s rest and I savor the alertness that I feel once I’ve won my daily battle with the drug. Searching for bears for hours and hours in the rocks and snow exhausts my eyes. Listening to the complaints throughout the day from the pilot is exhausting and infuriating. I want to go home. Home in Igloolik, home in British Columbia, home in Washington state, home in Tennessee. Anywhere home but here.
    But then. Then I look outside the helicopter into the flying snow and ice and I see the sun glinting off the crystals making it seem as if I am in a cloud of sparkling diamonds. Outside the diamond cloud, the cliffs and rocks rise around me, falling off in sheer drops to the ocean below. I look down and see a polar bear 10 ft away looking at me, panting and furious. The shot is taken and the dart bounces off the rump, falling into the snow. The bear, tired of being chased, ambles off, back into his role as the king of the North. I realize that that is why I’m here. To see this beauty, to see these animals, to experience a glimpse into the surreal becoming real, to tough it out. Because that is what it takes.
    Read more

  • Day13

    Capilano Suspension Bridge Park

    January 2 in Canada ⋅ 🌧 3 °C

    My fear of heights have been pushed to the limits these hols. This wobbly suspension bridge was built in1889 & it's still going. It stretches 450 feet across & 230 feet above Capilano River 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 I swear people where purposely rocking this thing 😣😣😣😣

  • Day454

    An actual Visitor---A human one!

    December 8, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ -26 °C

    Last week I had the great privilege of hosting my first visitor to Igloolik. My cousin, who was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, where peaches and pecans sell on the side of the road, braved the cold and Journeyed to the North. I capitalize "journey" because as anyone that has traveled further north than Iqaluit knows, it is always a Journey with a capital J. lol.

    After traveling from Atlanta to Ottawa by way of Philadelphia and Toronto, he spent the night at the airport and then got the dismaying news that he would be spending an extra day in Ottawa. The jet had a dent in it. Apparently. Boeing said it was too big to fly safely. So, my cousin got his bag, hotel voucher, and left the airport. He put on his tourist hat and ventured to Parliament Hill in Ottawa and joined a tour to learn about Canadian governance and history. He had his first shawarma, a delicious wrap not unlike a gyro but yummier that originates from Lebanon. If you like garlic, you will like shawarma! He learned about the canal that runs through Ottawa and freezes in the winter providing an ice rink for all to enjoy.

    The next day, he tried again and experienced his first flight in which you walk out onto the tarmac, to board the plane...from the back. The front of the jet coming from Ottawa to Iqaluit is for cargo. The lack of roads or rail leaves only the planes to bring everything that is necessary to support thousands of people. Once in Iqaluit, he once again, walked across the tarmac to the 1-yr old new airport. There, he managed to not get lost in the 6 whole gates of the airport. The final leg of the journey is on a twin prop, 18 passenger plane sitting out on the tarmac.

    He boarded the plane that had been sitting, unheated on the tarmac for hours, and learned how cold a plane can get! Turns out it's a metal tube! Two hours later, a brief stopover in Hall Beach allowed him to see a town even smaller than Igloolik. Hall Beach is our neighbor with 800 residents that is reachable by skidoo during the winter on the sea ice with a 1.5-2hr ride. My cousin saw the one-room airport with baggage carousel that is a sheet of metal angled down so when the airline employee shoves the bags through a baggage door, the bags slide down the metal slide.

    Then, it was short 15 min flight to Igloolik. I picked him up and showed him the town which he remarked seemed bigger than he expected. Over the next days, we walked and experienced the shock and awe of grocery prices, of walking on sea ice, of realizing the sun was not going to crest over the horizon.

    He saw me gather and prepare dinner at 3pm because it felt later. He had his eyelashes frozen and frosted all of his clothing. He got to shovel snow for the first time as we unburied the qamatik that was going to be pulled behind a skidoo so we could out for a ride around the land. It turned out to be too windy for a good ride, so my cousin got his own personal chauffeured ride on the back of a friend's skidoo.

    He got to buy a local carved narwhal made from caribou antler. Great find since he'd been wanting one of those. He got to visit my work and see animal specimens that he may never get (or want) to see again. lol.

    We played bingo over the radio and lost. We went to a party and he wowed everyone with his knowledge of Nunavut and Inuktitut. I had no idea how he knew all that he did. He said he just read the magazines and talked to the people next to him on the plane. I mean, he came in rattling off towns like Pangnirtung and Qikiqtarjuaq while explained the pronunciation of Inuktitut letters. It was hilarious.

    We threw hot water in the air and watched it vaporize. We did this particular exercise at least 5 times. We saw great Northern Lights and he was shocked to learn (as we all are) that I live too far north for the best Northern Lights. (I personally think that is one of the best things to say to convey to someone just how far north Igloolik is----"well, to see the Northern Lights, we have to look South." bahahaha)

    He got to feel -40 with the windchill...as we stood out there trying to take pictures of those Northern Lights. He quickly shifted to choosing the parka when the windchills got past -35C. He remarked as well that with the proper clothes, it is not bad. It is only bad for long periods of time or for exposed skin----it's not that my hands haven't been cold before---it just usually takes longer than 10 seconds.

    I am so lucky to have been able to share this with my family. A trip like this is not feasible for most and to have the stars align so that he could come was very cool.

    And of course the Journey couldn't be complete without a little leaving drama. His exit flight out of Igloolik was cancelled 5 days in advance. The auxiliary power unit that starts the planes after they've shut down in cold temps broke in the town north of us. Thus, no plane could leave there. My cousin's flights were canceled for 4 days. I guess that's the time it takes to get a replacement sent up. Rather than bank on the fact that they might or might not get the power unit replaced, I immediately booked him on the only other airline that serves here (though those airlines just merged a few months ago so after January, we will only have one airline----what could go wrong---nothing bad gonna happen with that situation. Sigh). We drove to the airport in somewhat foggy conditions not knowing if the plane would make it out. The plane was fully booked. They landed in Igloolik and my cousin safely left in a fuzzy, dusky morning.
    Read more

  • Day483

    How not to volunteer

    January 6 in Canada ⋅ 🌬 -27 °C

    Christmas was surprisingly tolerable by myself, largely because I wasn't by myself. My family and friends made sure of that! I spent a lot of time on the phone and messaging while also bee-bopping to various gatherings at other people's houses that decided to stay through the holidays.
    I also saw a post on the town's facebook page asking for volunteers to help put together the food and toy hampers for needy families and children on Christmas Eve. I thought, "that will be a perfect way to congratulate myself for being a great and caring human while investing little to no time. Perfect!" So, on Christmas Eve I showed up at the elementary gym at the facebook-indicated time and discovered that my little idea of showing up for, ummmm, maybe a half-hour, was sorely wrong.
    There was a TON of stuff that needed to be sorted and arranged and prepared into the gift bags for each of the 900 children on a list that the organizers had. 0_o 900?! The town's population is only 1,500! Holy moly. After about 3 hours of doing more activity than I've done in months, I left to have lunch. When I returned, the food had arrived which was donated by private individuals, companies and groups. Four hundred 20 lb turkeys. Enough so every household in Igloolik could have a turkey dinner. Do you know what 400 turkeys looks like laid out in a school gym? We were like the images you see of volunteers passing sandbags to shore up homes and towns against rising floodwaters. Potatoes were unloaded off pickup trucks in 50lb bags. Turkeys were offloaded in 60-80 lb boxes. Stuffing, cranberry sauce, and rice came in. It was incredible. When I stopped to think about it, it became more incredible given our location.
    The food drive is sponsored by a not-for-profit organization called "Feed Nunavut". Their objective is to ease food insecurity in the North. Surveys find that a full 70% of Northern families skip a meal at least once per month. This organization spotlights every year a few projects to focus donations on for folks wanting to do that sort of thing. Igloolik's holiday food and toy drive is one such project. Most of the toys and gifts came from Southern Canada donations and even a few United States donations as well. But what is impressive is that for the food, people give money and then someone here in Igloolik has to figure out how to buy the food in Ottawa, get it shipped here, pick it up at the airport, store it somewhere, and then bring it to the gym. This is a feat anywhere, but in Igloolik!! Even more so. A company started here in Igloolik, Arctic Fresh, donated their money, time, and resources. They bought the turkeys at cost in Ottawa and stored them in their warehouse in Ottawa. Then, the airlines of Canadian North and First Air (not sure which one donated) donated, or heavily discounted the freight up here. I mean, can you imagine the cost to ship 8,000 lbs of turkeys? It costs $500 to ship 100lbs down south.
    More volunteers met the freight at the airport and unloaded all those potatoes, turkeys, stuffing, etc, by hand. BY HAND. Then, stored it and unloaded it again at the gym where volunteers started putting together the fixins for the turkey dinner. They laid out a turkey every 1-2ft in the gym and then a bag of potatoes which had been prepared by the volunteers divvying up the larger 50lb bags of potatoes. Stuffing and other fixings came next. Finally, there were supposed to be mandarin oranges.
    Ah, the mandarin oranges....such a nice gesture.....if they hadn't been right at their expiration and rotten! One of the volunteers discovered that many of the donated boxes of mandarins were terribly rotten, to the point that the boxes were sometimes leaking putrefied orange juice. Someone in charge made the decision that we could not, in good conscience, give these rotten things to people. So, we had to go through, by hand, every single box and separate the good oranges from the bad. Wow. Tedious. Let me offer some unsolicited advice: when volunteering, do not open the box of oranges. Assume they are good and be secure in your altruism and holiness. Otherwise, you will spend hours hunkered over fruit trying to not put your fingers through one more rotten orange and sneeze from the aerosolizing mold.
    Finally, all the dinners had to be bagged or boxed for delivery. The hamlet agreed to allow their school bus to be driven around for deliveries and the school bus driver volunteered to spend his Christmas Eve driving around house to house.
    It was impressive to see all the work and time that went into the whole operation. I gave up the ghost at 5:30pm and returned home with achy feet and a very tired back. I was sore for 3 days. I laughed at my grand plan to feel good about myself backfiring when I actually had to work. I should have just donated money and stayed on the couch. That's a smarter move. That's your second lesson ladies and gentlemen. First lesson is: no mandarin oranges. Second: write a check.
    Read more

You might also know this place by the following names:

Canada, Kanada, ካናዳ, كندا, Канада, কানাডা, ཁེ་ན་ཌ།, Canadà, ཀེ་ན་ཌ, Kanada nutome, Καναδάς, Kanado, Canadá, کانادا, Kanadaa, Ceanada, કેનેડા, קנדה, कनाडा, Կանադա, カナダ, კანადა, កាណាដា, ಕೆನಡಾ, 캐나다, کانەدا, ການາດາ, Kanāda, കാനഡ, कॅनडा, ကနေဒါ, Khanada, क्यानाडा, Kanuadu, କାନାଡା, کاناډا, Kanáda, Kanadäa, කැනඩාව, கனடா, కెనడా, แคนาดา, Kānata, کینیڈا, Canada (Gia Nã Đại), Orílẹ́ède Kánádà, 加拿大, i-Canada

Join us:

FindPenguins for iOS FindPenguins for Android

Sign up now