Over the past few days,  I have been
revisiting 50 Canadians Who Changed the
World and shamelessly reliving The
VIA-Rail, 50 Canadians, Ocean-to-Ocean, Book-Tour Extravaganza.  Rail-trip
of a lifetime, courtesy of VIA-Rail and Harper-Collins Canada. Sure, I had to
talk endlessly about one of my books and write a few articles for VIA-Destinations, a now-defunct magazine, but that’s what I do anyway. Lots of defunct publications out there.

Along the way I remembered that Canada borders on not two but three oceans — that the country is so big, in fact, that the Arrogant Worms wrote a song about it. If we can’t have Northwest Passage as our national anthem, I vote for Canada’s Really Big.

But three oceans. One image each for Canada Day, why not? First up, a good-looking young couple literally ON the Arctic Ocean. This is from a couple of years back, one of our voyages with Adventure Canada. And, yes, this September we’ll again go voyaging with AC and ride around among the icebergs. Someone’s gotta do it, right?

Ocean number two is the Pacific. Soon after Sheena took this photo, we made our way to Granville Island, home of the Vancouver Writers Festival, where
one sunny afternoon, I had chatted with Australian novelist Peter
Carey. I was puffed up with irrational pride at the way Vancouver sparkled in
the sun, and I said, “So what do you think of Vancouver?”

Carey smiled
and said it was great, but then he took a beat: “Have you ever been to Sydney?”
At that point, I had not, and he encouraged me to visit. Later, when I did get
there, I went to the top of the tower, Centrepoint, and found myself gazing out over the most
spectacular harbour in the world. Just keeping things in perspective.

But before revisiting Granville Island, having walked much
of the
Seawall around Stanley Park, we sat down on one of those big grey logs on the beach and I removed
my shoes and socks and rolled up my pantlegs. Carrying a copy of 50 Canadians Who Changed the World, I strode
across the sand in manly fashion and waded into the cold, salty water of
the Pacific. 

What I had forgotten was that those waters were relatively warm. I was reminded of this a few weeks later, when we reached Halifax and I felt obliged to make some corresponding gesture. One afternoon, assisted by three volunteers — Sheena and the Mallorys, Mark and Carolyn, fellow voyagers in the
Arctic — I ventured into a hard-to-reach corner of Point Pleasant Park. There, at least twenty metres from the main parking lot, despite a driving rain and a rocky shoreline
that would have deterred a less intrepid author, I waded into the Atlantic
Ocean.

I wanted to build a cairn to mark the occasion, but my companions convinced me to
adjourn instead to a nearby pub. At the Lord Nelson, looking into the future,
we raised a glass and drank to the greatest country — or at least the second biggest — in the world. Happy Canada Day!