It’s a long way to Winnipe-eg, it’s a long way to go

---

Having arrived from Stockholm on Friday evening I thought I had plenty of time to organise myself for my long-awaited holiday. Not so. I turned up at the Heythorp Street Hotel late on Friday evening, where Sarah had very kindly agreed to put me up at short notice. We spent several hours gossiping before I headed to my own spare room for a kip - a strange feeling but a very comfy bed 😊 Saturday was spent rather pleasantly with brunch on the South Bank with Emma, Rosie, Steve, Nat and several thousand children, followed by a desperately needed pampering at the hands of Heath the hairdresser, “T.com on a Saturday” drinks in Covent Garden with the usual suspects (plus a 10-week old first appearance by Ewan who was extremely laid back about the whole thing) and roast beef with all the trimmings courtesy of Dad. By Sunday I realised that I needed to make some emergency purchases of travel clothes and such, so I dragged Mum to Bluewater for a spot of credit card abuse (which would have been more successful had I remembered the proper PINs for the right cards - trial and error finally got me there, thankfully without locking myself out!).

Sunday evening came, a large portion of toad-in-the-hole went, and still I was no nearer actually packing, or even locating the clothes and equipment I needed. Which turned out to be scattered through four different rooms in the house, cunningly tidied away in places I had no knowledge of. I found this out on Monday morning whilst running up and down the stairs panicking that I couldn’t find my thermals, or my backpack, or my US adapters, or my woolly hat... all the while, my blood pressure was rising and I was getting grumpier. Sorry Mum.

Finally packed and in the car, Dad drove us round to Heathrow for lunch at T5 (thanks Dad 😊). And then I was off! To sit in a sauna for 7 hours and 40 minutes... I have never been on a flight where the cabin is that hot - I was sitting in a T-shirt and sweating. Pleasant. But Geordie Wayne Rooney and Barbara Woodhouse (my two seat companions) were nice enough, the screaming baby was somehow silenced (brandy? ketamine?) and I managed to watch one and a half films (The Hangover - mildly amusing; something with Russell Crowe and Ben Affleck that might have been State of Play - unfinished) before the system decided to reboot itself repeatedly. So not the worst flight I’ve ever been on.

The final approach into Pearson International gave me some really good views over Toronto - probably the closest I’ll get to the CN Tower this visit! Lucky I chose the left-hand window seats or I’d have missed it all. An “interesting” landing, the usual friendly greeting by immigration (why are you here? Where are you staying? How long have you known these “friends”? You’ve travelled a lot... like it’s a bad thing!) and then I was the furthest east in Canada that I’ve ever been. For three hours. With no free WiFi. Or any money. Or any chance of getting any money given that the ATMs didn’t accept any of my cards and the helpful security man pointed me in the direction of the closed bureau de change, even though I told him six times that it was closed (after first explaining what a bureau de change was). Thank you for your time sir.

So I valiantly stayed awake unaided through the layover, even though my body was telling me it was stupid o’clock, succumbing to sleep as soon as the engines started on my 2.5 hour flight to Winnipeg. I woke briefly to accept the proffered drink and snack (an interesting Worcester sauce flavoured mix of Cheerios, Shreddies and Twiglets) and as if by magic, a shopkeeper appeared and I found myself in northern Manitoba.

At this point I should explain what I’m doing here. This is not a normal sort of holiday. I am WWOOFing. To be precise, I am joining Rowena (my geology partner in crime, travel companion in Ireland, South Africa, Rwanda and Kenya, and all round good and patient friend) on her WWOOFing odyssey. She started in British Columbia in May, is to cover as much ground as possible in as many provinces as possible in 6 months, and is due to finish back in New Brunswick (her home for the last 5 years) in early December unless the weather dictates otherwise. WWOOFing is Willing Workers On Organic Farms - essentially one is offered free board and lodging in exchange for a few hours work each day. That work can be anything from weeding and picking vegetables to looking after animals to housework to cooking and preserving. Rowena was an organic farmer in New Brunswick and has been a WWOOF host, so she thought it a perfect way to see her adopted country and meets its people before applying for citizenship. I’m here because she is, because I needed a holiday (and a change is as good as a rest) and because it’s something I probably wouldn’t think of doing otherwise. Others do it because it’s an extremely cheap way of travelling, and it can open up all kinds of new and interesting experiences, not least because you’re staying in someone’s home and for a short time become part of their community - not something the average backpacker ever manages.

So I arrive in Winnipeg, after approximately 17 hours travelling, feeling like it was 5am and I’d been up all night. Finally I got my card to work in an ATM and I had cash again, but no Rowena to meet me... The arrivals hall had emptied and I was alone with the security guard. I know we’d made the arrangement a week ago by e-mail and hadn’t made contact since, but Ro’s normally very reliable... What on earth was I to do in Winnipeg at 11.30pm, on my own and with nowhere to stay?! But then I spied a small figure, clad in bright red jumper right at the other end of the airport 😊 With Ro was Chris, our host for the night - a lovely (and very hospitable) lady from Winnipeg via Northern Ireland and Rwanda. After a small car park trauma (we couldn’t find the entrance) it was a short ride to Chris’ house in the middle of nowhere outside the city. It was dark so not much to note, apart from the “jet on a stick” that marked the military airbase. Chris’ husband and daughter were away in Luxembourg so I got a 2 year old’s bedroom, complete with Winnie the Pooh pillowcase and Hungry Caterpillar book by my bed 😊 A quick snack and cup of tea and I finally hit the hay around 1am, now feeling wide awake as my body thought it was morning... for about 10 minutes anyway 😊

---