The Photo Journal o'Doom

A photo taken of me, but my BART buddy while he was showing me how to safely get from SFO in to the city.

The first photo I took in San Fran, and proved I could use the digital camera I'd borrowed... Cable car - though I guess you knew that already.

My elbow from the cable car, and the city behind me.

Me and Alcatraz.

The Golden Gate bridge, all artistically framed and stuff.

That windy street that gets used for stuff.

Hmmm, this is already getting to be big and I'm still on the first day of photos, time I work out how to make them smaller.
"Nob" and naked men, it was too stupid to not be a little funny. I guess San Fran is famously gay for a reason. Puns that bad really are just, well, gay.

The view from SFO at night - and it looks really crap small (it was supposed to look awesome but I got carried away reducing my photos with Picasa and they are now all so tiny as to be basically useless - my bad).

I was there. 36 hours in transit, for that.

My prison cell at the Zoo - accommodation not as expected.

A practice run self-portrait, to see if I could and which turned out not too bad.

The proper self protrait turned out so toolish that I've since removed the head. It shows off the pretty clothes my SugaMuma bought me, and that's what matters.

I'm eating with people (well, Fritz). I'm socially adjusted and normal and stuff.... really....

Chipmunk.

Seems like a bargain....

Kalamazoo Train Station

and the proof I was there.

Toronto, and really feeling like I was in a big city for the first time (San Fran is big, but somehow didn't really seem it when I was there).

Architecture is stupid.

Architecture growing out of what was once a beautiful stately museum.

Awesomely creepy house in Niagara.

Canadian squirrel.

Matthew vs. the American Niagara Falls.

Matthew vs. the Canadian Niagara Falls (ie. the good ones).

Rainbow off the falls.

A clock tower, standing out about it's surroundings.

A university building looking as they should.

Their Maitland St is in a whole other kind of devil's acre.

All hail the great sky wang! I mean, the CN Tower.

Cower beneath me, tiny earth skyscrapers.

My feet shall crush you from on high.

Prairie, as it turns out, is a nice world for an endless expanse of nothing worth looking at.

Vancouver, a city on a very dirty river. Note: plane is landing and my digital camera is still on. Oops.

Compensating looks much the same the world over, *cough* tiny *cough*.

Vancouver Island, as seen from the ferry terminal with the unpronounceable name.

Food so bad, it made American food look palatable. Never eat food on ferries, when you are a captive audience they know they don't need quality.

Landscape - pretty.

Sunset at Nanaimo.

Aunt Ellen, looking entertainingly more manic that usual.

My punishment for pavement pounding Toronto.

Why I went all that way: my grandma. She is awesome.

Campbell River - our drinking water has planes in it for extra nutrition.

Elk Falls, Campbell River.
Impressed me much more than Niagara had.

Now there is a sign that would have me run in to buy stuff. Hooray for income tax, I want that one.

Airsickness and seasickness all at once. Joy.

The milk needs to be in four litre bottles so they can fit all the nutritional information in all required languages...

Victoria, BC

My first bear.

My second, third and fourth bears.

My first bald eagle.

A massive starfish I dragged up in a crab trap from the bay off Sointula.

The view from where I stayed in Sointula.

Meeting my cousin, Sean, for the first time.

My father felt the need to immortalise the pores on my nose.

My father at the primary school he went to (now an art gallery).

Inspecting the red tide.

My first raccoon.

Meeting my uncle, David.

Meeting one of my father's many cousins, Ann.

Dad introducing me to Barbara. A lovely woman who had the misfortune of marrying in to the Robertsons.

My cousin Erin and, I think, her husband.

My grandmother at the party for her 80th, with her sister.

A picture of me looking so retarded, and bald, that I couldn't not share it.

My grandma and five of her nine children.

A hoard of Robertsons.

I did say "hoard", right?

My grandma, and some random uggo.

My father chatting up a teenager - dirty, dirty old man.

Some pontificating wanker, going on like he was the pontiff or something.

Robertsons and fire - sounds like trouble.

I shall fear not the giant elk.

Nootka Sound is looking weirdly like somewhere I've been back home from here. What was the name of that sound again...

Art shots can even make me look good-ish.

Dad proving my hat actually does look better on me than it does on some people.

Sneezing.

Canada says goodbye.

And so should I, now that I've eaten more of your bandwidth than you were expecting. Photo journal complete.

All photos available in 6 megapixel on request.