Oh, Canada?

I went to Canada for the same reason explorers have always sought the horizon: It was an unknown, a land of mystery. I grew up in a border state but I couldn’t tell you which province is directly overhead. Sure, I laughed when George W. Bush was stuck for the Canadian Prime Minister’s name. But now that W is gone, I can say what I secretly thought then: “Glad that wasn’t me!” I know more about Mexico than I do about Canada, and I’m not sure why. It’s like there’s a long black hole stretched across the 49th parallel.

Among the few things I did know about Canada before my recent trip: It’s cold. It’s inhabited by a morally upright people. They like syrup and hockey. Their beer is even worse than ours. These things, I can now report, are all true. But there’s more! Canada, I discovered, is nothing like Jack London made it out to be. And Vancouver, the city where I stayed, is a lovely place with cars and electric lights, which is good, since the Winter Olympics will take place there shortly.