Victoria, eh.

So. As part of my grand trip up North, I headed to see how the other English-speaking nation on the Americas handles their citizens without cars.

Watch your step.

There's the flag, and the last I'll see of the States for two whole days.

It could be a warning to the U.S. of A.

And to squirrels who don't want to fall into the wake of the ferry.

The closest thing to a train or bus to take you to the island of Victoria is the ferry. Not being a sea-faring creature myself, I hitched a ride on the large (deluxe edition) model, rather than the smaller passenger-only ferry. After all, there are killer whales in these waters, or so the whale watching tours claim. I don't want to take a chance on their liking squirrels.


While I'm headed to the strongest British remainder that I know of, there's no train (it's an island, remember?), double-decker busses are only for tourists, and I don't know what form of transportation I will find on this tree-covered island that plays host to loggers and high-tea.


On first sight, it doesn't look like much. A few buildings, a few trees, some boats. Their flag has one less color than the U.S. of A. version.

The Canadian dollar is called a Loonie. They have a very important national sport that involves grown men sweeping the ice with large brooms. The island of Victoria is known for its Victorian Christmas celebrations.

But I found a flying plane.

Welcome to Victoria, eh.