Day 1 - Vancouver, British Columbia

First thing this morning I phoned my bank up to let them know I was going to Canada, so not to block my credit card when claims started coming through from British Columbia. I ended up investing in an ISA and upgrading my savings account. Fantastic.

Mum and dad picked us up as planned, and got us to the airport on time. When you book a holiday like this yourself, there are a number of anxiety points, and the first is that you've booked the right flight and you've turned up on the right day. No problems there this time (Sandra's suitcase weighed in at 24kg and the check-in staff didn't even bat an eyelid!).

We did the airport thing, finally got called to our gate, boarded on time, and things were looking good. Then came the pilot's voice over the tannoy; "You probably heard a couple of clunks just then when we started to taxi..." I hadn't heard anything, but I had felt the aeroplane jerk a couple of times. It turns out that the vehicle they use to tow the plane out of its parking bay had done something wrong, and bent some pin on the towing bar on the nose wheel. The pilot was adamant (not Adam Ant) that he wasn't going anywhere until his aircraft was 100% safe - and rightly so. Hence the one and a half hour delay in setting off.

The first part of the flight, with a man sitting on one side of me who was the spit of Adam Richman, was the same as 2008; up through England and Scotland, across to Iceland (no sign of that volcano), then on to the harsh and unforgiving mountains of Greenland. Then we deviated slightly from the Alberta trip, as BC is obviously further west. So we flew over Baffin Island, the corner of Hudson Bay, then down through northern Alberta. I thought I saw traces of the Oil Sands, the source of that province's wealth, but also its guilty secret. We then flew over Edmonton and the great prairies, and were amazed when the Rockies reared up out of the flat plains, the landscape changing with no warning. We flew over this collosal mountain range for almost an hour, the snow that capped the peaks giving way to a covering of pine trees, miles upon miles of pine trees.

Then, as we began our descent, with the pine-covered mountains rising up out of the misty clouds as if in a King Kong movie, the captain's voice came over the tannoy again; "If any of our passengers is a doctor or has paramedic training, please make themselves known to a member of the cabin crew." What? Seriously? "Cabin crew to their seats for landing. Immediate landing." What?? Word came back that someone in the forward part of the aircraft had had a stroke. The captain shaved ten minutes off the descent time, produced a spectacularly smooth landing (I was expecting the nose wheel to collapse), and the paramedics were there waiting to take the unfortunate patient away. I don't know what became of that person.

We were finally allowed off the aeroplane (by now it was 16:30 BC time, half past midnight body clock time). We got through passport control, picked up our luggage, and were taken to our hotel by a lovely taxi driver whose North American accent was so thick I could barely understand him. And so to another of those anxiety moments; have I really booked this hotel, and have I turned up on the right day?

But yes, our reservation was there, all the receptionist needed was my credit card to confirm the reservation. No problem there, I'd told the credit card company we were coming to Canada, there was no way the credit card would be denied...

Of course, it was denied.

Foaming mad I called the bank. It was 2 am in England by now, but the credit card services are open 24x7. The poor bloke on the other end explained that there was no block on the credit card, and that the problem must be at the Canadian end. I got them to try the card again, and this time it worked, thankfully.

We unpacked, and decided to have a quick walk around to get our bearings. Stepped out of the front of the hotel to the sight of a digital news feed on the wall of the building opposite: "Marauding bear shot in West Vancouver". Is somebody trying to tell me something about this holiday?

So we stopped at a liquor store and bought some booze (woohoo, spicy Mott's Clamato), came back and ate a burger at the Moxie's Classic Grill associated with our hotel, and now it's 9 pm BC time (5 am body clock time) and once I've had a shave I'm going to bed.