Arrived in Vancouver after a long flight sat next to a fat Vicky Pollard-alike, whose bulge encroached onto my seat space, and whose "I was like, yeah, and she was like, no" wittering drove me properly insane. I am couch surfing with a guy named Ben and his girlfriend Jess, who turn out to be very cool people, who immediately made me feel welcome. On arrival I have a cold beer thrust into my hand, a meal cooked for me, and then we are off out to The Railway club, where Jess' brother-in-law is playing in a ska band. A great time is had by all. We all get a bit pissed. I discover the delights of after-the-pub-grub, Canada style: Nachos and fake cheese (or 'Cheez'). This orangey-yellow slop is dispensed like ketchup, is very spicy,
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