There was a vague desire to do a post-qualification Big Trip and a concurrent desire to see something of the Flett diaspora, my two first cousins of that branch having migrated to opposite sides of the globe. The considerations were Singapore and Canada; the former being diverted due to job security concerns, the latter seemed more encouraging, but in the end a visa ended up thwarting the reunion.

I was new to transcontinental travel, and it seemed an indulgence, but 30 before 30 and all that, and it was a chance to visit our great aunt on/around her 80^th birthday.

In 1970, my great auntie, her husband and two very young children took a boat from Southampton to Montreal. The journey took nine days. It would have been eight, but for a medical emergency that caused them to call in at Glasgow unexpectedly. From there they took a train to Toronto and were met by a car which took them to our great uncle’s new place of work as a farm servant. So a new life began, and a new branch of the family tree.

My idea of Canada was of vastness. Almost as big as Russia, and I don’t think that’s just the Mercator projection. Also, as a kind of America but more polite, kinder, less brash. They remained loyal to the British Empire a lot longer and are part of the Commonwealth. I see it too as a country of caribou, bears, wolves, beavers, raccoons, elk. Of forests, mountains and lakes.

Ours was to be more of an urban experience. Specifically, my brother and I’s.

We flew into YYZ, which was fun. I came to know the Rush song through Muse, who sometimes played it as an outro riff to their songs – devil’s interval and all that.

Toronto wore a Scottish complexion; a dreich museum afternoon was on the cards. In the bar afterwards, they showed baseball on the TV, which was to be a recurring theme, and served craft beer and gourmet burgers (in some corners the 2010s never really died, and I rather appreciate it).

Canada’s border goes in a straight line from the west coast almost all the way until it dips south for Toronto and Southern Ontario. This means that it is on the same latitude as several US states such as New York, Vermont and Michigan. The subway system is certainly more NYC than the Tube.

It is a very flat city in terms of topography but also in terms of dwellings. You don’t have to get very far from the centre to see two-storey apartments being the norm. They have built out rather than up in this expansive country and created a sprawling conurbation known as the GTA (Greater Toronto Area). The financial district is the exception, with vertiginous skyscrapers and the crowning glory of the CN Tower, which was definitely worth ascending despite the almost equally steep ticket prices!

Toronto is kind of a port city, albeit the port is not on the sea or a river but Lake Ontario. Its more famous ports are the aforementioned YYZ and Billy Bishop, located on the Toronto Islands. These are a short ferry ride from the harbourfront and a definite recommendation. Pedestrianised and almost purely for recreation, you can hire one of the Tangerine bikes and easily pedal away an afternoon here. Highlights include a gay nudist beach, one of Canada’s oldest lighthouses and the best view of the Toronto skyline the city has to offer.

On the less positive side was the experience of Canada’s intercity train service, VIA Rail, which we used to get to Niagara Falls and Montreal. The trains are very tall, perhaps to avoid snow, and staff need to get out steps at every stop. Boarding is very orderly and controlled versus the UK free-for-all. They also proceed very, very slowly.

They certainly make the most out of Niagara Falls’ natural wonder status. In terms of touristification, it rivalled Mont-Saint-Michel, but like at the medieval monastery, I didn’t much care. Sometimes one just has to embrace being a tourist, so I ponchoed up, did the boat ride and, with not much encouragement, learnt my weight in pounds and braved the zip line.

Montreal was exclusively francophone, at least in terms of signs. This was odd, as in much of Western Europe you will find yourself primarily in a bilingual environment on public transport. I appreciate it though, and understand it to be part of Québécois identity.

We were there pretty much solely because I wanted to go somewhere French-speaking during the trip, and I didn’t look too much beyond this. I learnt after booking it that Montreal is considered the gastronomic capital and looked up some things to try. After climbing Mount Royal and spotting what I thought was a beaver in the park (it was a groundhog), I lunched at Schwartz’s, a (New York-style) deli famous for its smoked meat sandwiches. I was very happy with what I was presented with. Some will consider it grotesque, others decadent. I am in the latter camp.

Forced into the rain on account of a dramatic thunderstorm, I had my first sustained French interaction in a café where I ordered a crêpe and came unstuck only when I unsuccessfully tried to tip.

A stroll around Old Montreal and the docks was followed by a pint pitstop before trying Canada’s national dish at La Banquise – poutine. This is basically chips with cheese curds and gravy, and it is magnificent. Sadly I couldn’t finish mine, but made up for it at the weekend at the Canadian National Exhibition (Jamaican jerk chicken version). Glad I at least tried some in Montreal.

Our trip was punctuated with Tim Hortons – more doughnut-forward than the UK version and a couple of outstanding brunches (they seem to think fried tatties and melon belong on a breakfast and I don’t disagree).

Food is cheaper generally in Canada, but that’s not counting the tip culture, which I found a bit of an adjustment. I went over my spending budget and had to incur some currency conversion fees, coming home with 7 CAD in my wallet.

Overall, I would definitely recommend Canada as North America on easy mode. You could up the difficulty by going to Quebec or hiring a car (a momentary but ultimately dismissed idea), but you don’t need to. Next time, if there is one, I’d like to see more of Canadian nature than a groundhog and a skunk. And who knows, maybe even British Columbia, home of the Human Serviette or Alberta, the Calgary Stampede?