Autumn is by far my favourite time of year in British Columbia, especially in the Spallumcheen, a township that teeters precariously on the most Northerly point of the sunny Okanagan. My family's vineyard is located in this wine growing region, and come late September, a certain crispness lingers in the air. While trees throw out handfuls of painted leaves to be twirled by the afternoon gusts, the urgency of our impending harvest is signified by the cast of longer sun shadows. One of the hardest things is the wait, the wait for optimum ripeness. We eagerly check our Brix level while we do battle with a multitude of critters…all whom want to eat said grapes. Hitchcock-like flocks of birds swoop in, while swarms of drunken wasps buzz haphazardly around your person. Black bears sashay by as ... read more

I'll be honest with you, I don't make a very good crisis volunteer. I suspect I'm not the only person that winces at the slightest sight of suffering humanity. Rather than get your hands dirty, many find it is much easier to throw some money at it, or avoid those unpleasant situations altogether. When disaster strikes, I too get this overpowering urge to morph into Shaggy and exclaim dramatically, “Like, let’s get outta here Scoob!!” But I don't. I stick around. I see awful things. I help. It's just who I am. As usual I was minding my own business in Los Cabos when something cataclysmic happened...it rained. And not that run-of-the-mill hurricane rain either. No, this was biblical. Where the hell did I park the Arc? Just as a beautiful lotus flower prepares for its ... read more

Unfortunately, a severe lack of vitamin D does strange things to your sensibilities. Why else would I leave the safety of my beloved homeland twice a year to voluntarily fly into a country plagued with corruption and horrific violence...all in the name of getting some sunshine? Hello, my name is Andrea and I am a climate refugee. Climate refugee: one who has been forced to leave his/her native place due to climate change, a phenomenon known as forced migration... Well okay, I'm not exactly forced....but I am also not alone. In 2011, 600,000+ Canadians just like me flocked to Mexico to get relief from our ridiculous winter weather. I guess the risk of being randomly assassinated at the local frutas y venturas is minuscule compared to the perils of going absolutely bonkers from lack of sunlight. ... read more

This is going to be my most serious of blogs. Well, not really. But after three weeks in Russia, I feel the need to be overly stern and abrupt with people. Mother Russia may have inadvertently produced several generations of reproachable Bolsheviks. Not that that is a bad thing. As it turns out, there is something really liberating about being miserable. I just assumed their general bad attitude came from being forced to use that grey sandpaper they call toilet tissue. But as explained, Russians simply wear their genuine emotions on their sleeves. It's refreshingly honest. Why would you smile if you are forced to slog through muddy streets or snow drifts at minus 30. And why not yell at a customer if you've been on your feet for 16 hours. Still, it's a complete shock ... read more

Siberia. It’s one of those places that wakes up long before the sun has broken the horizon. The hazard of dwelling at a parallel this far north, is how drastic the length of day shortens as winter encroaches. I’m used to it, but the Australians argue amongst themselves over what time of day it is. It is almost half eight, but still pitch dark. They grumble. Then without warning someone switches on the sun, and the day officially starts. Our tour leader is a woman from Israel who doesn't speak Russian or Mongolian, or Australian for that matter. She is strict and abrupt and highly offended by us most of the time. When excessively questioned by The Australians about her past, she progressively gets more evasive. I've determined she must be a secret agent hiding out ... read more