Want a peek at what is coming up at The Doorstep Traveller? And for all you newcomers I’m thrown in some snippets from previous videos to wet your appetite!
Back in July the Canadian Court of Appeals decided to cut off the right to vote for about 1.4 million Canadians living abroad. As the October federal election approaches these travellers, who’ve lived abroad for more than five years, just lost their right to have a say.
I’m still within the time limit. And you better believe I’m going to use my vote. Continue reading “Why I’m Voting From Abroad”
Hello all! I thought I’d hop into the passenger seat for this post and introduce you to Marvin Beatty, a Canadian photographer based in Castlegar, British Columbia!
This man is surrounded by beauty and he knows it! With his faithful Nikon D70 and two favourite lens—an 18-200mm VR and a 60mm—or his new Canon T5i, Marvin has captured an array of magnificent scenes, which you’ll get to see below! Continue reading “Marvin Beatty’s Canadian Photography”
Pouring a dollop of pancake mix into the pan forced a hiss as the goo met the metal. Grabbing a handful of raisins I began to seed my pancake with their plump little figures. Satisfied with what I’d sown I thrust my spatula under the island of mix to turn its world upside down. Behind me chaos met art as a housemate presented her rendition of a pancake song’s dance. Another housemate drew attention as she masterfully tossed a pancake into orbit and landed it on its rump.
Our Pancake Day rehearsal was flippin’ brilliant!
Hello all! This post is inspired by a question that once popped into my head. I was just sitting around, minding my own business when suddenly out of the blue I began to wonder what children around the world do with their loose baby teeth. Do they all put their teeth under their pillow like I grew up with? Does everyone have their own version of the tooth fairy? Is there a global tooth economy?
Skidding on the loose soil I wobbled, flapping my arms to regain balance. Just a meter ahead of me my sister carried on upwards ignoring my bleating while jolting infrequently through her own noodle dance. After a few seconds I successfully fought off gravity’s affection and managed to acquire the proper vertical position once more. The last few steps to the top were simple, but I still had to chase my breath. Overhead the blue dome sky stretched on to forever. The clouds seemed to reach out from infinity. As the eternal hills and silent river posed for my eyes the trees continued their seasonal wardrobe change without pause.
I ventured closer to capture the kids and adults clustered around a bucket of blue. I planned to raise my camera over the odd monument of limbs and capture everyone as they look down, enraptured by the coloured powder.
An excitement sped through the air and with my attention zeroed in on obtaining my photo I missed the hidden signal to begin.
The term “all hell broke loose” is the most appropriate phrase for an individual suddenly finding herself in the midst of a colourful dust storm with a camera worth around a $1,000.
I whipped around and dashed out of there like my tail was on fire, cuddling my camera as a football player protects the ball. I’m sure I would have mowed down anyone who stood in my way if they’d chanced that unlucky confrontation.
Carnivals have always brought a sense of wonder and adventure to me. I marvel at the dazzling lights and flashing colours. What had once been an empty parking lot would come alive with imaginative themes. The very air would become saturated with a whimsical mood. People came to carnivals to forget. To rattle their brains of thought and spin their worries away.
It’s been this way for decades according to popular culture. Magic and mystery travel hand-in-hand with the carnival in our imaginations.
As always overnight it seemed as though the rides had risen from the dust.
And, like being there at exactly the moment the wheels of a pivot begin to turn or watching a spider complete its a web, I managed to appear at the carnival’s doorstep right as it began to build its fantastic façade. Continue reading “Carnivals: The People Who Build Them”
Climbing up to each ride with my feet clanking on every step. I only had eyes for the hand rail, the stairs and the waiting empty seats. The glance I’d share with the operator of the ride would be one of dismissal. You’ve seen my wristband now let me ride I’d be saying behind my cheerful smile. I’d notice but not focus on the fact that each glimpsed face was different. Some gave me a large toothy—or toothless—smile, others looked right on past me.
Some individuals were white skinned while others were dark skinned. Sometimes faces and hands was dark from oil and grease. Some faces were crinkled like waterless riverbeds and tiny canyons. Others were identical to the teens waiting to ride.
The same as it would be in a small town, there were eyes that laughed, that silently cried, that you wouldn’t want to meet in an alley and eyes that welcomed you with all their heart.
The shade was creeping over my body, bringing a cool blanket over my hot skin. I yanked my cap up to replace the hot air around my head with colder fresh air. It was a habit I’d continue throughout the day as the sunlight became hotter and the sweet delicious shade became scarcer. I wiggled on the curb trying to get some feeling back after sitting on the pavement for over an hour. Though a solitary figure from the Declercq clan, I was far from alone. Around me people gossiped and greeted each other from their lawn chairs and blankets. Ever few seconds a cheerful cry went up as someone recognized another whom they hadn’t seen in months or weeks or years. A small child at my side turned to her mother and asked in a voice I could fondly recall from my own youth, “mom, when’s the parade starting?” The youngster settled back with a huff when the answer was ten minutes, which as we all know is a decade in a child’s time frame.
After ten restless minutes the sight of three Royal Canadian Mounted Police leading the parade around the corner erased all tension from waiting. The parents gave a gasp of relief and settled back to watch their children sprint back and forth with candy. The parade had begun and so had the Canadian celebration. Continue reading “Canada Day: July 1st”