Mon Voyage

Niagara Falls - stunning

Monday I’m on a bus to Kingston where Jillian – a girl I met on the train on the way to Nice – has driven an hour to fetch me. The afternoon is spent wine tasting and at Karlo Estates where I basically fall in love with their rose. The guy running the wine tasting is also the best I’ve seen – an absolute natural who keeps you entertained (and fed!) while you taste. Everyone buys a bottle of something because let’s face it, a killer sales pitch and decent wine equals business.

Lake Ontario and bench

Wellington (yes, like in SA!) proves to be a typical small town and Jillian takes me for brunch in the main road, followed by a viewing of this part of Lake Ontario. It’s so big, you can’t see to the other side. It’s flat and strangely peaceful too.
Randee, the super-friendly lady I met on the flight to Toronto almost two months ago, comes to fetch me and take me to their home near Trenton. I am welcomed with a delicious home-cooked meal and wholesome company, the likes of which make me look forward to sharing meals with my parents again. Bedtime takes place in their adult daughter’s room and I spend far too much time ogling over her cool Glee calendar.

Alone time

And if you’re wondering, I did keep in touch with these people before and essentially invited myself over … I am most grateful for everyone who hosted me during my travels. You have blessed me tremendously.

Randee (unfortunately) gets called into work last minute, so the only real outings we have is a brief visit to the Canadian Airforce Museum and to the local post office to send a parcel home. The rest of the time I am essentially waiting for the 10th of September to approach, and while I’m doing that, taking melancholic self-timer photos of me overlooking a lake … trying to look contemplative.

Graciously going very much out of her way, Randee takes me at the nearest GoTrain station so that I can get to Toronto. I feel oddly safe now that I am here again – this is where the airport is. Tyler (another camp friend) picks me up on a random corner and soon thereafter drops me at the Cirque du Soleil venue.

Niagara entertainment

Yes, it is my second show in a week, but I didn’t know about the Quebec City one when I booked for Totem. Again, my mind is blown by the talent of these performers, the detail in the costumes, the soundtrack, and the remarkable engineering feats achieved under that big top. I’m not quite sure how I’m getting back to Tyler’s flat, but a long wait, a (wrong) bus, subway ride and brisk walk get me home safe.

9 September marks Niagara Falls Tour Day. Hooray! The organised tour is great and we stop at Pillitteri Estates Winery to sample ‘ice wine’ – essentially a sweet dessert wine made after allowing the grapes to freeze on the vine. I just love the little town of Niagara with it’s flowering gardens and pretty buildings. It’s fascinating to see the Canada/US borders on each side of this mighty river and it’s not long until the Falls come into view. Having been warned how underwhelming they can be (especially if you’ve been to Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe), I think I reduced them enough to be sincerely in awe of their size and grandeur. And they are magnificent. No visit is complete without a trip on the legendary Maid of the Mist (or one of them!) and the hordes of flapping blue pancho’d ghosts makes for a comical sight.

Does this pancho make me look fat?

The recorded announcer goes: “Ladies and gentlemen… this is Niagara Falls!” right in the very spray of the thundering horseshoe falls. It’s wonderful, even if my straightened hair is now ruined.
I regret not doing the Journey Behind the Falls and instead explore the Vegas-like street and visit Ripley’s 4D Moving Theatre – a poor judgement call as the shaking ride leaves me feeling horrid for the rest of the day.

Dinner back in Toronto takes place on Tyler and Sam’s miniscule porch, but we retire to the fabulous home of the couple for whom Tyler is house- and babysitting. Jacuzzi and wine makes for an enjoyable last night in Canada.

Don't look down ...

Saturday makes for a whirlwind day of trying to cash my last cheque, tracking down the Vistek store and, thanks to a very kind man named Sheldon who gives me a fantastic deal,  walking out proudly holding a brand new Canon 7D in my hand. Oh happy day!
Last but definitely not least, I ride the 346m to the main pod of the famous CN Tower and the extra few to be 446m in the SkyPod above. The view is ridiculous and stunning, as is the experience of walking on the glass floor.

Toronto from above

I rush back to get to Pearson International, which is just a hop, skip, train and busride away. Proof that Canada is nicer than England, my hand luggage does not get weighed and there are absolutely no issues boarding the Air Transat flight. Sure, the turbulence results in us only getting our first drink three hours into the flight, but I don’t care. I’m coming home!

Wrecked from jetlag, I stay over at the wonderful Keggies until Monday evening. Heathrow to Doha. Doha to Johannesburg. Johannesburg to Cape Town. Along the way I am stressed out my mind that I’ll miss my connecting flight at Doha, but end up sitting for an hour on a parked plane. I marvel at the Middle East cities from the sky. I meet a nice flyfisherman from Cape Town, but never get his name.

And then, around 5:30pm on Tuesday 12 September 2011, with a moving Bon Iver track playing in my headphones, I fight back tears as False Bay and my familiar mountains come into view. The sight of my parents waving at me from the arrivals terminals unleashes a cascade of sobs – tears of joy really – which I wipe away to look composed as my passport gets stamped and I cruise through the non-existant customs and run into the arms of my patient loving mom and dad.

Home. Now.

Beautiful Toronto

From the 3oth ofAugust until the 10th of September I traveled from Toronto to Quebec City via Montreal, then back down to Montreal and ‘the island county’ before landing back in Toronto to fly home.

I’ll be honest, while I enjoyed my Canadian travels, they weren’t nearly as exciting or adventurous as Europe, so I’ve decided to condense my experiences to a collection of favourite events and memories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did reliving them.

Clever vandalism

It starts with meeting up with camp friends Madison, Liz, Rachelle and Sam to explore the waterfront side of Toronto and sit down to a small picnic of brie, crackers, blue- and raspberries. We board a ferry to Ward Island and take a leisurely stroll to Centre Island where we ride a small open train and lick ice-creams like happy children. The ferry ride back coincides with sunset and I snap away happily at the beautiful silhouette created by the city’s skyline. A real sight to see. That evening we walk the streets to dine at Mother’s Dumplings, a quiant Chinese restaurant, and I stop to admire the wonderful street art on the way back to Madison’s home.

Breakfast is hot chocolate and an apple crumble muffin as I board the Megabus to Montreal the next day … an uneventful five hour journey. I had some minor trouble on the streetcar on the way here – the guy gave me a snotty look because I didn’t have the exact $3.20 or whatever. And then let me off just paying $1.10 (only change I had). Sorry … and thanks. But who always has the exact amount?!

Nice horsey ... in Quebec City

Met and escorted by Gabby (another friend from camp) to the pleasant suburb of Boucherville, I stay a night with plans to return later. Her parents are incredibly hospitible by feeding me everything from fresh cherries to delicious Asian soup and sharing travel stories from their own lives. I join Gab’s mom and their enormous woolly dog – Zara -for a walk to the supermarket (at 10:30pm!) to buy me some snacks for the road to Quebec City. So spoilt.

My three-hour train journey makes for some comfortable travel and I remember the St Lawrence river crossing being particularly amazing. I arrive in Quebec City – my first destination in ten weeks where I don’t know anyone or much about the place. Armed with my google map, I set off in search of my hostel: The Auberge International.

Free cabaret show

Maps don’t convey contours, and I pretty soon discover how treacherously up- and downhill Quebec City geography is. Thank goodness I packed a smaller bag, or else I would be crying. Settled in my eight-bed room with the Asians, the evening is spent solo exploring the nearby citadel, Battlefields Park and Governor’s Promenade. Quebec City comes alive at twilight as people gather outside restaurants and busker’s music fills the air around us. It truly is the most European-feeling city in Canada. A walk down steep roads and steps lead me to Vieux Port, where I stumble upon a free outdoor cabaret show. It is magical.

Europe in Canada - Place Royale

But the real reason I go down there is for the Moulin de la Images - a unique 3D show of images that tell the history of Quebec City, projected on the massive silos opposite the harbour and perfectly choreographed to loud music. My legs are tired, my lower back aches, the air around me is chilly, and my flimsy paper 3D glasses keep threatening to blow off my face … but I absolutely LOVE it.

The next day I have a slight ‘no way’ moment when I see the nectarine I selected for breakfast is from South Africa! The hours that follow are spent doing what I love most: Exploring the old part of the city on foot.

Destiny.

Taking my time, wandering in and out of art galleries and souvenir shops, people-watching, and spending money on clothing, earrings made of real butterfly wings, maple syrup, and gourmet jellybeans. A talented local musician by the name of Mark Lavigne treats my ears to favourite piano melodies. I should have bought his cd…
I visit Petit Champlain, Place Royale, the famous Old Port Market, some incredible murals, and even have my picture taken by some street fashion photographer. Everything is so French. I love the buildings and the charm of the horsedrawn carriages. I also love that I meet a German girl called Geza at the hostel, with whom I share a crepe dinner and accompanies me to a free outdoor Cirque du Soleil show under the highway bridges. The area is built up complete with stage, backdrop, tightrope and trampolines – the perfect playground for these magically made up characters who perform the most breathtaking acrobatics. I want to run away with the Cirque du Soleil!

Cirque du Soleil magic

Day two in Quebec City is essentially a rehash of yesterday, but this time with Geza alongside and rainclouds above. The VIARail journey back to Montreal becomes a mild disaster as we sit for ages behind a broken-down freight train. No airtime and no laptop battery remaining … Hours later I am thankfully back with Gabby and we drive into Montreal to fetch George, Marianne, Sandrine and meet up with Yuron at the incredible Juliet & Chocolat - reason enough to live in this city!  Rue St Catherine could easily be mistaken for Long Street in Cape Town and the similarity stirs an excitement in me.
Home. Soon.
Miss Piggy (me) of course orders two things off the menu and it’s hardly surprising that I can’t finish the rich, chocolatey goodness of both.

Notre Dame - Montreal

It’s Sunday and Gabby’s mom is kind enough to show me Vieux Montreal. With its cobblestone roads, beautiful old architecture, artists in alleyways, boutiques, and footpaths along the harbour, it makes for a lovely outing. A highlight is standing outside the Notre Dame church where Celine Dion got married! She also takes me to a fabulous Jean Paul Gaultier exhibit at the Montreal Museum of Arts. I wasn’t too familiar with his work, but I walk out with new respect for this ‘artist’, who has created exquisite, shocking, and intricate garments – some of which took over a thousand hours to complete … The most fascinating thing about the exhibit is the mannequins: They have ‘real’ human faces! Their eyes move and they talk or sing. It takes me a few moments to figure out that they’ve cleverly projected recordings of real people onto the doll’s faces. It’s so cool, but also slightly creepy …

Call me Legolas

It’s the evening of the 19^th of August and an eerie silence of relief descends upon Camp White Pine. The campers and staff are gone. Only a handful remains. Summer is officially over.

We celebrate with sundowners on the swim docks and Cait and I toast to that with some chilled rose. And look really classy drinking straight from the bottle. (No, I didn’t finish mine in one evening…)

As the 19^th rolls on to the 20^th, the weather seems to concur that it is, in fact, the end of summer. And don’t think you’ll get another nice day to tan on the docks. Oh no, it’s rain and chilly evenings from here on out. Sure, the leaves will turn pretty colours, but that big temperature dial in the sky will abruptly be turned lower.

I am here for another ten days, but some will leave within the next week and a few will stick it out until the beginning of October. The atmosphere is strikingly different and it feels like Spring again: We have access to the kitchen walk-in fridges, no more meetings, quiet mealtimes, and free evenings.

A sweet ride around camp

We’re not alone though, as new groups will use the camp facilities for short stints until beginning October. It’s not long before the first group arrives. An entourage of cyclists who are on some epic journey across Canada. We’re not particularly fond of them because a) we have to offload their overnight baggage from the trucks, b) they applaud and make a noise the entire afternoon when someone crosses the finish line, and c) Gary and I have to be in the dining hall at 5:30am the next morning to brew them coffee.

Before long we are back in Jay’s office at 8am to receive our maintenance duties for the day. I’m also driving golf carts around camp again – woohoo! Watch out now.

From designer to window washer ...

As you may remember from Spring, maintenance is not my favourite thing. We spend our days vacuuming the rafters in each cabin and sharing our discoveries – anything from chocolate to clothes to toiletries to gum – by night. The experience includes a few precarious moments clambering over top bunks while handling a vacuum cleaner. I feel a bit like a cleaning monkey. Then there’s a sequence of days where I do nothing but wash windows. Remove spiderwebs, spritz Windex, wipe with papertowel. Repeat. On a ladder. Outside. And this one day I’m doing it in a rain jacket because the weather is foul and I’m miserable and there’s a very brief moment where I hate my life right now. But then Sarah, Erin, Jodie and I put some good music on the iPod and make a song and dance of it and everything is suddenly better.

The next big group is LOV (Leave Out Violence) and I genuinely feel like I’m on the set of Dangerous Minds or something. Hailing from a variety of cities, even New York and LA, these people come from rough backgrounds and this organisation works toward bettering their lives. They’re a fascinating bunch. They beatbox and freestyle rap in little groups around camp and encourage each other to go through with the ropes course challenges. We even go to their ‘concert’ where some sing, others perform spoken word poems, and this one guy even does a rave dance. And everyone cheers!

A few Fall staff

At the beginning of Fall the majority of us have to move accommodation. I’m part of the group now living in the Training Village in a camper cabin. It is rather open and we’re sharing as boys and girls, but it’s only for a few days. It’s a decent walk from main camp, so I find myself ‘packing for the afternoon and evening’ and only returning at bedtime. Too many times I forget to pack a torch and I’m swiftly forced to face my fear of walking down dark spooky forest paths. Nevermind getting lost on several occasions.

The evenings feel endless at times, and we entertain ourselves by watching movies, sitting around camp fires, having house parties at Joy’s cabin, and even going out to town for karaoke night. Apparently we upped the quality of karaoke by about 200% that evening …

Claire and Jordan get engaged and Leah makes a mood-o-meter for Gary’s office using colourful cardboard and her mad A&C skills. I dabble in a bit of dining hall duties, plan my Canada travels and try make the most of my final few days here.

White Pine - you beaut!

The last group to make use of the facilities while I’m still here is a group of Catholic church kids. We’re all assigned to help on activities and I’m on archery, bikes and an extra set of eyes at the swim docks. I love that they think I’m actually qualified to ‘teach’ these things … or that I’ve been doing them all summer!  I also love that I can hear them worship from the Pinetages hall every afternoon and that they play Hillsong United over the camp’s sound system. It makes me miss my church back home.

My day of departure arrives and I feel a sense of mild panic as I’m slightly rushed to pack and uproot the life I’ve made for myself here these past ten weeks. There are certain people I don’t want to leave and hug goodbye. And others … well … so long to them.

It feels surreal to drive in Ben’s car down that beautiful tree-flanked road out into the real world. From here on I have to be a grownup again and take care of myself. I have ten days of travels ahead before that long flight home. My heart wrestles with my head. I’m not ready to leave this familiarity, this magical place.

A few hours later though, I realise that I was.

Farewell Camp White Pine. You rocked. And I hope to see you again in 2012.

Shoot with a difference - the Drama staff

Camp White Pine Summer 2011 is:

Nosh on Pine Street. Certainly the highlight of my afternoon – that time of day when we gather around Gary’s wood shop and hope that Justin S has gone to fetch our snack (liquorice, chocolate, peaches, hot chocolate, ice-lollies … any of these) and then playing Jenga to determine which loser will have to fetch the nosh the next day.

The shameful nosh hat ...

Acting as head of Media Arts is:

Having to practise my people and managerial skills by resolving issues and evaluating my team. It’s strange to be in the boss’s shoes for a change and I realised again how difficult it is for me to criticise people on their performance.

Being grateful that my team were amazing the majority of the time. Even pulling an all-nighter to get a silly thirty-minute slideshow done.

Affectionately being called HOMA (Head of Media Arts) by Sarah, who was HOG (Head of Glass).

Special moments like the ones when I sat with a nine year-old using a basic Photoshop template and seeing the joy in their eyes that they’ve just made a (really) fake ID.

Gnu Boys 4 with flashlights

Accepting that even eleven year-old girls have body issues, but still have my heart break a little when they look at a beautiful photo (which I took) of themselves and say ‘ew’.

Managing to convince fourteen year-old boys that photo shoots can, in fact, be cool.

Introducing teenagers to ‘light graffiti’ or long exposure photos at night with flashlights. They enjoyed it for at least fifteen minutes. I think.

Ian. That strangely wise-for-his-years boy who popped his head into Media Arts at least once a day to discuss world politics and finish his propaganda poster. (For real).

That day I suggested we make birthday cards for Shiloh (Tyler’s dog) and we were inundated with campers wanting to do so. It’s not often kids had to wait or be turned away during Second Morning at Media Arts, but that day … that day was crazy.

Photobooth fun - acting like children

An evening when Sam, Madison and I were supposed to be packing up Media Arts but instead spent a ludicrous amount of time putting silly mirror or bulging effects on Photobooth and recording ourselves dancing to I  Like To Move It and Funky Town. And laughing hysterically about it after. Easily one of my happiest memories.

Finding the recorded gems on those Macs. And I can promise you, Photobooth documented a lot of antics. Combined with some side-splitting video postcard footage and camper film projects, we put together The Epic Reel. Ask and I will gladly show. You won’t believe how fun it is!

All those precious kids who wormed their way into my heart. And not just the slightly geeky and arty ones who enjoyed filming documentaries or making comic strips or retouching their face onto every animal for which we had a template.  Also the vulnerable, shy ones. And the over-confident bossy ones (there’s one in every cabin of girls). Oh, and even the hyped up crazy ones.

Avery and her superbly animated face

Feeling like a kid again. Dancing like an idiot. Eating jelly. Jumping on a floating trampoline. And having the first and best Canadian Summer of my life.

And lastly, my best quote of Summer 2011, which brought many a tear of laughter and never ceases to amuse me months later. This golden sentence is from a young girl named Avery: ‘(Camp White Pine is) like going into summer for like a whole billion years and having so much fun, that when you die, you’re still alive’.

All Day: Wind team in the white

Camp White Pine Summer 2011 is:

The All Day: That one anticipated day where the entire camp gets split into four teams to compete the entire day for ultimate victory. It’s supposed to be a secret, but someone always ruins it and before long, the kids all know. The theme for 2011 was the elements: Earth, Wind, Water and Fire. We would compete in numerous artistic, gastronomic, physical, mind, and music categories. A song, a dance, decorating the dining hall, and ultimately the Apache (sp?) – an extensive relay that’s a true test of speed and endurance, ultimately finishing with fires built on the beach by the oldest campers. The kind that needs to burn high enough to burn a string suspended above. Real Survivor style. And boy, was I biting my nails …

Alex 'decorated' for the All Day

I remember the All Day starting with a particular boy counselour approaching me a few days before, requesting that I head up the decorations of the dining hall. Alex Borje was captain of the Wind team, and I had just been recruited. Secret brainstorming meetings ensued. I drew outlines and others painted. We hung kites and polystyrene clouds from the ceiling. We stapled white plastic to every imaginable surface. Sam recorded ambient wind noise that boomed from various stereos, and placed fans all around. We cut giant windmills from wood and stood on scaffolding wrapping chicken wire and white material in a shape that I hoped at least somewhat resembled an enormous tornado. And finally went to bed at 4am. The judges decided. They announced. The Wind team won. I was beside myself with joy. I cheered my voice away.

All Day dining hall decorations

But ultimately, the day ended with slightly bitter disappointment when we finished a close second to Water. But I felt that we competed hard, fought fair, and shone with our great integrity and spirit.

Airbands. One of the greatest inventions ever. Each cabin picks a song (or songs mixed together) and lip sync and act or dance to it –whatever their interpretation is. And they are hilarious. My favourite was a boys’ cabin who told the story of two orphans separated but then reunited, all performed to Celine Dion’s It’s all coming back to me now.

A great way to spend one's birthday...

There were boys in dresses and dance moves that can only be described as ‘performance art’. The TV boys won with their passionate story of good vs. evil to Goo Goo Dolls’ Iris.

My memorable birthday was:

My first away from home. Finally an opportunity to go to someone’s family cottage (thanks Shai), with a stop at the Giant Tiger on the way. Even if it was just for a laugh. It’s only the most amazing department store Canada has to offer!

A boat ride along the lakes, wind in my hair, sun on my face and all that lovely stuff – flanked by pine trees and more beautiful cottages – and eventually being coerced into also jumping off a smallish cliff face because hey, it’s my birthday and I only occasionally give into peer pressure …

Birthday cliff jumping - go Borje!

Heroically saving the boat from crashing into the land while the others were climbing the cliff.

Feeling terribly homesick after reading all the Facebook posts and messages from friends and family back home … much appreciated.

And feeling physically sick from indulging in too many chocolate cupcakes that day.

View from the zipline platform

Camp White Pine Summer 2011 is:

The Creative Arts Halloween Night for the older campers. Our goal: To prove that we are cool and can truly scare them. I think it’s safe to say that for the most part, we were successful. Tyler was the genius behind an epic forest maze and a thrilling house of horrors. I helped create and run the graveyard. Having drawn, spraypainted and written out about twenty five tombstones and setting them up in rows, the campers ventured past stuffed ‘bodies’ and a few real ones. When it was my turn to lie in the dirt and frighten them, I’m delighted to say I managed to make a teenage boy genuinely scream. My work there was done!

Busting a kid for trying to sneak food out of the dining hall during a Saturday morning buffet. Call me Columbo, but I can tell when an oversized hoodie’s sleeves are concealing muffins!

Boo! Creative Arts staff get spooky

Loads of fun activities: I once helped with a waterfront relay race. My section required the campers to push a small ball along a wooden bench with their nose. Easy enough, except that said bench was lathered in whipped cream. It’s quite a peculiar thing … smearing cream on furniture on the lakeshore …

A time for first experiences: With so many activities under one forest roof, I did my utmost best to try just about everything:

I took a few swings (and mostly hits) with a proper baseball bat.

I rode a mountain bike down a few easy routes for the first time.

I conquered the deceptively high zip-line, pamper pole and cross bar sections of the ropes course. (After bungee jumping in 2010, it’s shameful to chicken out of anything else really…).

I got introduced to dodgeball, but wasn’t nimble or strategic enough to call myself a ‘natural’.

Later, in Fall, I tried my hand at archery and managed to get a justifiably good bull’s eye within the first few shots, but Caitlin still swears I cheated because no one saw it.

Cutting glass is cool with Erin and Shyra

We learnt how to cut glass – and our fingers in doing so – and make earrings to our hearts content. I even threw something in pottery after numerous failed attempts. I say ‘threw’, but Mick might argue that you could hardly call that a container made from clay. Either way, I had my semi-Ghost moment I had always joked about.

I even learnt how to set up and shoot in a basic studio with my very own activity.

Sarah enjoying pottery

Water-skiing was only mildly successful with me managing to get up, but not quite stay up. And subsequently being violently assaulted by the rushing waves. A classic case of my brain thinking I’m doing something, but my body clearly proving otherwise. Alex was extremely patient (at least I learnt faster than a ten year-old) and repeatedly turned the boat around to fetch me – the drenched failure bobbing in the middle of the lake – to repeat the technique and try again. Needless to say, my legs were replaced by two sticks of jelly for the remainder of the afternoon, and for the next two days I looked like I was auditioning for a Western. I was that sore.

And then lastly, though I never did any sailing myself, enough asking got Daniel (or Boyman) to take me out in a tiny sailboat one afternoon. It was lovely, even though there was no cheese and wine as promised. (Not that we could have … what with the rules and there being no dry space on board).

Not forgetting also my little canoe paddle with nurse Jess that day when we went all the way to the other side and chatted and looked back at the place that had become our home.

14 August sunset

Camp White Pine Summer 2011 is:

Party Rock Anthem. Pricetag. Rolling in the Deep. The Lazy Song. Forget You. The songs that will forever remind me of my 2011 Canadian summer.

Music lunches. Eating pizza bagels to John Mayer and later jumping up to dance to Waka Waka with about six hundred other campers and staff during lunch in the dining hall. Oh, the noise. It is deafening.

The first time I see a raccoon next to the dining hall – so cute! – and affectionately naming him ‘Rocky’.

Later despising raccoons for rummaging through trash and leaving an awful and disgusting mess on our porch. And for scaring me on YOLT patrols.

YOLT – You’re Out of Luck Tonight – that once-a-week night watch duty from 9pm to 1pm where we partner up with other head staff and man the office phone and take turns to patrol the camp grounds with a hardcore flashlight. But for the most part watch funny youtube videos and talk nonsense.

My last YOLT patrol, which was the most exciting of all. I chased a boy who was lurking around the girls’ cabin and then later busted five girls who strolled into a boys’ cabin all non-chalant until I sneaked in after them and with an ‘a-ha! I caught you!’ and some difficulty, got their names. They tried to trick me by splitting up as they left, but I was high on the excitement of being ‘bad cop’ and soon revealed the culprits hiding under a boy’s bed. I couldn’t wait to get back to the office to tell Ryan of my adventures. The girls all apologised to me individually the next day.

Twitter box

Learning to endure and become desensitized to the general North American expression of ‘oh my god’. Love the accent, hate the blasphemy.

Twitterrrrrrrrrr. Twitterrrrrrrr. Twitterrrrrrrr. Twiiiiiitterbox! The best way to integrate social media in an environment essentially free of phones. Great idea Chad and Gladdy!

That time when someone suggested Billy jump off the table and he responded lightning fast with: ‘I am not a monkey’. In a northern British accent.

‘That’s what she said’ jokes.

Meeting really nice and handsome guys, only to find out they’re about 21. (Double the age minus 7?)

Beach singsongs

Sunday evening sing songs on Kiwi beach with the band. Singing Tiny Dancer and Love Story … and watching amazed as the teenage boys know all the words to the Taylor Swift song and are unashamedly belting them out.

The afternoon heat that swirls around the Media Arts class, making those two sessions the toughest and most unbearable of the day. Fans are great, but we dreamt of aircon.

That one day where the temperatures were mid-thirties but with about 70% humidity (making it close to forty degrees) and we cancelled our cabins for the afternoon and were instructed by the camp bosses to just keep cool and hydrated. In other words, chill by the lake all afternoon.

Playing beach volleyball with the kitchen staff on one of my days off … without making a complete fool of myself. The French teamed up to thrash the English and a fun time was had by all.

Good looking bunch of staff, ey?

That memorable day when Dana got up to make the announcement that the both pumps had broken simultaneously and that we are to refrain from showering for the weekend in main camp. The campers applauded. The staff groaned. A weekend turned into two weeks. Campers cleaned off in the lake and waterfront activities turned into shower time. We washed sporadically and hiked up the hill to shower at odd times in the training village – without curtains. I once took up Sarah’s offer of having a shower in her cabin just to feel clean and feminine again.

Broken pumps meant the dishwasher took a break and for two weeks I cried a little inside with every styrofoam cup and plate that got tossed in a bin.

Emergency drills. That all-important routine that disrupted everything but made sure we were ready for disaster. Thankfully, there never was.

‘Swop Day’: The morning when they shuffle most of the staff’s job descriptions for a few hours. Gabby from Arts & Crafts took on my title and I was put on… wait for it … Tennis. Fun!

That one afternoon where all the non-Canadians got ten dollars for lunch and a ride into town to get our SIN numbers (Social Insurance). We loved a free outing and time away from camp. And fish and chips at McKecks.

Being woken up cleverly and cruelly on a Friday by the annoyingly catchy Rebecca Black.

The sunset on the 14^th of August. We were setting up for the Halloween Night when the sky turned the most brilliant shade of pink. I dropped everything to run to my cabin, grab my camera, and make a mad dash for the swim docks. As I’d hoped, the lake was the same gorgeous rouge and I clicked away … exhilarated by the adrenalin and enchanted by the beauty.

Painting faces

Camp White Pine Summer 2011 is:

Doing my first ever swim test, and wondering whether I might fail because I can hardly do two lengths. Nevermind a surface dive.

Not scaring the campers or other staff with tales of snapping turtles in the lake. But there aren’t any. Don’t worry. It’s just a story. Promise.

Jumping off the high tower on a dare, only to never do it again because the impact rips the bikini right off.  Thank heavens the lake water is dark …

Being intimidated by the diving board. Still.

Late night conversations and sharing ‘first time’ stories on the swim docks with new friends.

Escaping for a swim in the lake at sunset … when the water’s warm from the day’s baking rays and the pink colour stretches from the surface in front of you all the way to the horizon. Pure bliss.

Dancing with the Staff 'poster'

Signing up for Dancing with the Staff with one of two black guys at camp. How South African of me…haha.  Hey, he has rhythm and he’s Jamaican. He’s also sixteen…

Stressing about Monday evening’s staff rec because I have to choreograph and perform a dance in front of everyone. Oh, and teach it to Andrew.

Seeing Andrew emerge from his comfort zone by dancing in front of an audience and going from being obliged to wanting to win this thing!

Making the top four and final of Dancing with the Staff and having the nerve-racking experience of dancing on stage in front of the entire camp. Andrew nearly has a panic attack … Unfortunately we don’t win, but we’re told ‘it was very close’.

Being told my ‘accent is so sexy’. Isn’t flirting about complimenting a person on things that are (somewhat) true? South African accents are different, unique and humorous. But not sexy.

Letting the campers guess where I’m from (England, Australia, Europe … they listed them all) and then laughing gleefully when I tell them things like: I have a pet monkey (really?!) and that my hair is suddenly a richer brown because I’m African and the sun darkens the pigment on my head. For a few seconds she genuinely believes me, until I can’t bear lying anymore and tell her that of course I’ve dyed it. And I thought I was gullible.

The Cookie!

Making the occasional cup of tea in a very large syrup mug – as if to make up for not having tea every day.

Mickael’s bread at Shabbat dinner. I could eat a whole one for breakfast, lunch and supper. Don’t forget the soft butter and the honey …

Mickael’s desserts and Joe, Gab and Kevin’s cooking. I can never resist the cheesecake and chocolate mousse even if I promised to skip dessert that day.

Early morning workouts and runs along the forest paths to combat said cheesecake calories.

Being worried about bears while running alone along forest paths.

The Cookie: Half-baked chocolate chip dough in a silver pan, topped with a block of vanilla ice-cream and doused with chocolate sauce. It’s heaven on a spoon. A dessert so popular that one day the campers went into hysterical screaming when they found out it would be served. I thought I was an audience member on ‘Oprah’s favourite things’ …

Being a judge on our very own Iron Chef and eating something blue and pink. It was strange, but tasty!

Les Mis - and our ridiculous costumes

Doing a proper, intimidating audition for the staff play – Les Miserables – by singing one of my favourite Disney songs. And getting a part in the ensemble as Male 1 and Female 2. Something like that.

Having naughty campers try win your favour by telling you ‘you were great in the play last night!’.

Sitting next to Penny while she plays On My Own and enjoying those brief moments where I pretend to be a Broadway soloist and sing my musical little heart out.

Painting faces for the plays. And using reverse psychology on a ten-year old … ‘if you don’t wear Egyptian make-up you’re not going to look like the other Egyptians…’ It totally worked.

Getting a lump in my throat when little Charlie recites his Horton lines in Seussical with his adorable croaky voice: ‘A person’s a person no matter how small…’

Camper arrival day - enthusiastic Kiwi counselours

A day or two before the campers arrive, the trucks pull in. Loaded full of the kids’ enormous, heavy duffel bags. Bags which we as staff have the duty (and pleasure) of unloading and distributing to the correct cabins. It’s back-breaking work, but the ‘many hands, light work’ saying rings truer than ever and it’s over fairly quickly.

Camper arrival day turns out to be a very exciting day, partly because I’m curious. It’s a lot like that airport scene in Love Actually – you know, the one where Hugh Grant goes to Heathrow to watch people reunite with their loved ones? These kids return to this camp year after year – it’s simply what happens every summer throughout their schooling. And then most of the counselours are ex-campers who are still studying (hence the young age and convenience of having the time off from ‘normal life’). For some, it’s their sixteenth summer. Imagine going to the same place at the same time for sixteen consecutive years?! What a different lifestyle to South Africa …

Simple living

The majority of the staff are what they call ‘sleep-ins’ and live in the cabins with a designated age group. These age groups in ascending order of age are Kiwis, Koalas, Blues, Reds, Gnus and then finally TVs (Training Village) and CITs (Counselours in Training). As head staff – and a few other staff exceptions – we get our own rooms in staff accommodation. I live in The Lodge, which has seven adjacent rooms and two bathrooms that are shared among us all, but cleaned daily (hooray!). Timing your showers is crucial in order to avoid queueing. My temporary home is also very central within camp and literally about twenty five metres from Media Arts. Shortest commute to work … ever. For a brief while I have a room to myself, but as staff accommodation gets finalised, Penny settles in on the other bed and we share shelf space for the next few weeks. Good room mates are hard to come by, and Penny is lovely. She’s also part of the Drama staff and does the entire piano accompaniment for the plays.

Penny (with Who make-up)

Of which there is one each week, so every age group gets to rehearse and perform a condensed version of a musical for us.

An average Camp White Pine day is very structured and dare I say, a bit like a school day roster. It starts with breakfast at 8:30am, followed by a clearing meeting for head staff and section heads to ensure each cabin has a diverse and fully booked day. Then there’s First Morning, where you ‘entertain’ the cabin of campers for about an hour and fifteen minutes. Second Morning is a free period where the kids can go to any activity they choose, provided they can take that number. Media Arts is never really that popular (unless it’s raining), so it’s a good time to catch up on the promotional aspect of our job – printing and sorting photos and footage, designing logos, etc – while helping the keen faithful kids.

Lunch comes just in time at 12:30pm and straight after that we do bookings on the porch – a time when the counselours book your activity two days in advance. Following that is Rest Hour. Sweet, glorious Rest Hour. It’s like the name says, and while it’s intended for the kids to have an hour of sleep or chill time, I become quite attached to my laying-on-the-docks or nap time. Sometimes it’s work-on-your-dancing-with-the-staff-item hour or sit-in-Media-Arts hour, but it’s free time. And I love it. First afternoon kicks off after that – another hour or so booked cabin. That is followed by Nosh, a brief but much-anticipated snack break. Then Second Afternoon (always the worst) and General Swim. Most campers shower in that time and select activities are open twice a week. Let’s just say Tuesdays and Fridays are very long days …

Rest hour hot spot

Supper is 6:15/30pm and after that head staff are essentially free. We have staff recs (as arranged by Josh and Jeremy) from 10:45pm in the staff lounge. It’s totally voluntary, but loads of fun and a good time to socialise with others. Not a great way to get an early night though. Oh, how I miss going to bed before 11pm. It’s just impossible here.

Saturdays run on a slightly different schedule, starting with a breakfast buffet that runs over an hour and a half. You can sample everything you want from sugar cereals to chocolate croissants to banana bread to eggs to bagels and even salmon and cream cheese! What a spoiled little bunch we are…

Liz and I overlook Haliburton on a day off

As for days off, we get six during the seven weeks of camp. These days are selected every week and it’s mildly stressful choosing which one and making sure your staff get an equal share of first choice. We essentially get twenty three and a half hours off: signing out at 6pm and then back in at 5:30pm the next day. You get one extended day off, which means it starts at 1pm. I spend most of my days off at camp, but get the opportunity to go camping with my friend Sarah once and also escaping to a friend’s cottage with a small group over my birthday.

Around the 26^th of July, about two hundred kids bid farewell to camp and head home after a breakfast accompanied by an overdose of snot en trane. Having grown most fond of the young Kiwis, it is sad to see some of my favourites go. By the afternoon though, a brand new set of characters are dropped off and it feels like summer gets its second wind. New names, new projects, and renewed enthusiasm.

And that, in a fairly long and verbose essay (poorly disguised as a blog), is essentially what summer 2011 at Camp White Pine is like.

Madison filming video postcards

‘Since we left the cradle
we won’t leave till we’re unable,
making friendships that’ll last us till the end,
it’s our home away from home …’

The chorus of this catchy song, written by our ever-entertaining program directors Josh and Jeremy, marks the beginning of Summer 2011. A summer, they said, we should make the best one yet.

It’s the Friday of the third week in June, and the Spring people keep asking whether I’m excited to meet the rest of the staff. First the head staff arrive – those in charge of activities. By Sunday I can’t believe I’ve only known these guys and girls a mere two days. We’ve already spent that much time together… and bonded over meetings, ice-breakers and mealtimes. Monday marks the arrival of about hundred to hundred and fifty more staff, and I’m slightly anxious to meet mine: The three people who will complete the Media Arts team and be my right-hand men and women for the next seven weeks. It’s been great to meet so many people so quickly, but I fear my memory won’t sustain remembering all those names. One good thing: When in doubt, the girl is probably an Ally or Maddy (Madison). It’s a bit like the ‘Jess and Jo’ phenomenon back home…

For a week we hang up our maintenance hats, and Camp White Pine is occupied purely by staff preparing for the arrival of four hundred odd kids ranging from as young as six to sixteen. Pre-camp is a recipe of meetings, tours, discussions, admin, and for some, a struggle to not feel overwhelmed. There is some advice on counseling, serious talks on the rules, and continuous injections of enthusiasm and anticipation. The children are coming. The children are coming…

Use old-school 3D green and red glasses to view this one

Meanwhile, box after box of Mac computers, cables, printers and supplies are carried to the Media Arts door. Thankfully I have knowledgeable boys to connect it up so that it all just works. Magic. My team consists of Sam – techie guy and creative genius who specialises in movie special effects and builds robots in his spare time; Justin – super-talented photographer with an off-beat sense of humour; and Madison – a Toronto-based film student who is at times as obscure and arty as she is delightful. All in all, a real smorgasbord of creative (and slightly crazy) individuals that will ensure Media Arts is never dull.

Everyone loves a town night photo

We’re treated to two ‘Town nights’ this week, and it’s a wonderful opportunity to clean up, doll up, and in some people’s cases, hook up. Whatever your definition for that is … Me? I just wanna dance with somebodyyyyyyyyyy, I wanna feel the heat with somebodyyyyyy … er, no … but I do enjoy the dancing. These twenty somethings sure know how to party (the average staff age is about 22. I feel middle-aged), but we leave and return in a bus, so thankfully no one is driving drunk. Alcohol and drugs are strictly forbidden during summer, so we get these and two more opportunities in the next seven weeks to get taken out and ‘let our hair down’. We’re only out for two to three hours and the majority return to camp heavily intoxicated and kindly asked to a) not go in the lake and b) just go to bed quietly. Most manage the former… Personally, I find the binge drinking rather disturbing. But perhaps I can’t judge … spending 24/7 with a bunch of hyperactive eight year-olds may drive me to drink too. All in all, town nights are best described as ‘fun’.

Mick completes a pottery masterpiece

The fun doesn’t stop there though. Within the first few weeks, I hear that Camp White Pine is one of the best-equipped summer camps in Canada. The majority of the kids that come for Summer hail from a wealthy Jewish community in Toronto. That’s right, Jewish. Oi vei! Clearly the references to Shabbat dinners didn’t grab my attention while looking at the website. But it’s more Jewish in the sense of the people and the heritage, not the practice. And no offense, but I quickly learn that Jewish is more of a culture than a religion…

But back to the fun. If the creative arts – Media Arts, Wood, Glass, Arts and Crafts, Copper/Metalwork, Pottery, Drama – isn’t for you, you can stay active with Landsports (soccer, baseball, basketball, hockey, dodgeball), Tennis, Waterski, Surf, Fitness and Dance, Ropes, Biking, Outdoor Recreation and Swimming.  There’s even a School of Rock! If you’re really friendly and proactive about it, there’s no reason why you can’t enjoy all of these activities.