Penticton, British Columbia

Well, it seems the wind changed and blew the whole Icelandic ashcloud out of the way!
Winds have been changing here, too- I'm supposed to be in a place called Rossland right now, 283km east of where I actually am.
But rolling with the punches is an important part of travelling. I made two mistakes in this part of the journey- number one was trying to organise so much so far in advance- I first emailed my WWOOFing place in Rossland about three months ago, but due to one thing and another I now felt less and less inclined to go there. Nonetheless, Zan and I jumped in the van (named Morgan Freeman, of course), and started on Highway 3 heading south to Rossland

My second mistake came when Zan handed me the map. When we hit Grand Forks, about 100km west of Rossland, I realised what I'd done, and we came up with another plan.

And so here I am in Penticton. After a seven-hour drive in a van that goes at exactly the speed it chooses, and a restless night's sleep in the back of the same, I've got myself two nights in a youth hostel populated mainly by librarians.
Thank the lord and all the assembled spirits of the universe for the Rough Guide to Canada and for Morgan Freeman

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