Blame Canada

I'd always heard that Canadian dentists were the best in the world, but today I had that rumour confirmed. Not only are they thorough (I sat in the chair for almost two hours, so they must have been doing something in my mouth that whole time), but they're friendly, they make conversation with you, and they don't treat you like the Antichrist because you can't remember the last time you flossed.

Mind you, if there's anything that makes you want to floss, it's visiting a Canadian dentist. They go through everything with you, in every gory detail (they even send you your x-rays if you want - those stalactite things on the left are my front teeth!). And if you've grown up in Britain, the details are probably pretty gory.

It's not that British dentists (at least, the NHS ones) are crap. No, it's that they're positively negligent. It's like they aim to be worse than crap. Let me give you an example of an NHS filling:
Specifically, it's my NHS filling. Okay, so most of the tooth is amalgam, but it still counts as a filling. Look at either side of it, in the gaps between the teeth. Can you see how it juts out on both sides? The spaces above them are where no dentist's implement, no matter how technologically advanced, could ever reach. Which has made it a honeypot for bacteria and turned my gum into a puffball. Thanks NHS!!

Okay, there is a snag to Canadian dentistry. You do have to pay for it - but there's this wonderful thing called health insurance and it's worth every penny. And you know why I didn't even think about private dentistry when I was in England? Because I didn't think I really needed it. I didn't know NHS work was so shoddy.

Okay, one more picture. This is not for the queasy, by the way! Ready? Here we go...!

See the amalgam filling there (amalgam, by the way, hasn't been used in Canada in about ten years)? See how it's come away at the sides, allowing all kinds of nice bacteria to come in and cause decay? It's not even worth the forty quid I paid for it.

So, anyway, sorry to gross you all out - I just thought I should warn you what kind of dentists you're entrusting your teeth to. But then, private treatment in England is absolutely outrageous, so what else is there? I always thought it was unfair that North Americans saw the British as having bad teeth, but now I know they're right. What do you expect with this kind of dollar store dentistry?

I can't believe it's been over two weeks since I got back from England. Time flies when you’re sorting out your new house, writing for two newspapers, rehearsing for ‘Guys and Dolls’, working for a shelter, and looking for jobs. Not to mention the fact that I left my immune system on the plane, so I’ve been ill twice in the last fortnight. But now all is well and I’m enjoying my first fall (aka autumn) in Canada.

Grimsby’s burning

The seasons here are spectacular and sudden. I’ll give you an example: one week in April I was walking down the street trying not to turn into a giant snowdrift. Exactly a week later, I was walking down the same street in a t-shirt. And getting sunburn.

When my plane touched down in Canada two weeks ago, the pilot said it was 28 degrees outside (God bless Canada!!). Then it rained for a week solid, and now the nights are distinctly crisp. Which has turned the trees into an inferno of red, yellow and orange, colours I didn’t think were possible in nature (unless you count tropical birds or something).

These are the kinds of colours people drive north to see. And in Grimsby, the trees have turned the escarpment tortoiseshell. It’s visible from the highway, and so astoundingly beautiful I’m surprised it hasn’t caused a car crash yet.

Walking on the escarpment is even better. The sunshine through the trees creates a kind of stained glass effect, bathing you in a thick golden light that fills you with peace. The trees sway and whisper and scatter confetti. Who needs a church?

Getting festive

And because the seasons are so distinctive, and things like fall colours are so temporary, everyone makes the most of it. Pumpkins are everywhere, so it’s pumpkin pie for six weeks solid (works for me). Wreathes of red and orange leaves decorate the front doors. People have Halloween parties and plan for trick or treaters

(no-one plans in England – I remember getting lame things like biscuits and apples when I went trick or treating).

It’s the same whether it’s Christmas or Easter or Valentine’s or Mother’s Day. Everyone makes a big deal, and everyone celebrates. I love it!!

Warming up the house

Talking of celebrating, we really have to have a house warming party. I suppose it would help if we had chairs first. Or any other furniture. But I’ve heard that people have house-warming showers here, where guests actually bring stuff for the new home! So maybe we should just throw the party and see if we get lucky (although I think a new sofa is pushing it a bit).

A lawnmower would be good, though. Until a few days ago, when Joe went into a hedge-trimming frenzy, I felt like the scruffy outcast in a neighbourhood of ruthlessly organized suburbanites. They all have beautiful lawns with seasonally appropriate ornaments, and nicely washed cars and flowers that aren’t brown. Well, I guess they would, being mostly retired. As long as they don’t object when us young ‘uns try and throw a few parties, I’m sure we’ll get along fine.

So life here is going well, and the colder weather has only just started. Plenty of pumpkin-flavoured weeks to go! Then there’s Christmas, and if the other holidays are anything to go by it’ll be the best one I’ve had since I was ten. I can’t wait!!

Here's a quick photo journal of my excursion to England (my last one for a while!). Bizarrely enough, it actually starts at my Dad's place in France...

Left: Me, my Dad and my stepmum next to one of their barns. We're surrounded by part of their menagerie, which includes dogs, cats, horses, and chickens. My Dad spends most of his time tending his vineyard, while my stepmum looks after the people in the guesthouse. Life there is pretty idyllic and they wouldn't go back to England for all the wine in Bordeaux (where they live).



Right: Me, my sister and her boyfriend at a ludicrously expensive Mexican restaurant in London. It's the only city in the world that could get away with charging 4 pounds ($10!!) for a bowl of guacamole. And the waitresses kept forgetting chunks of our order. Ah, English customer service...

Left: Old friends from my Oxford days. Our sleepovers, complete with junk food and silly games, are always a high point of my trips to England. Jo (horizontal) is still in her uniform from leading Brownies, where I spoke to the kids about life in Canada. They were really enthusiastic, especially one kid with red hair who told me she knew who Anne of Green Gables was. Cute : )




Right: Me and a bunch of friends at a friend's wedding. Canadians have this image of British weddings as being very polite and posh. Photographic evidence that this is several bottles of wine away from the truth...






Left: My brother, my sister and me. Even when I lived in England our reunions were pretty sporadic, but with me living in Canada they'll be yearly at best. Which makes me sad, because we have such a laugh when we get together. I guess I'll just have to get better at using the phone.

So, that's it. Everyone keeps saying I've been to England so often this year I might as well still live there, but now I have a life in Canada so I'll be crossing the pond a lot less often. Canada is amazing and there's no way I'd go back, but I miss my family and friends. If only I could persuade them to emigrate...

It's always a bit weird when I come back to England. I love seeing everyone again, but then I'm here for such a short time I have to say goodbye almost immediately. This is the third time I've been here since I moved to Canada in February, so I've seen some people more often that I would have done if I'd stayed in England. But I'm also aware that this will be my last visit for a while. I need to start living in Canada properly now, instead of existing between trips to England.

So, I just said goodbye to my sister and brother and his girlfriend, and now I feel really sad because I know I won't be seeing them for ages, and for the first time I actually feel like I live in a foreign country and I'll be there for the rest of my life. Canada is great, but I feel like I've left part of me back in England. Oh well - I guess that's just part of the deal.

On the plus side, I'd forgotten how crowded and dirty and expensive London was, and I'm glad I'm getting out of here before I'm forced to remortgage the house or have a fit of claustrophobia.