The China photo gallery has now been updated. Click here for images on Hong Kong and surrounding territories.
Hong Kong (©Deborah Clague, 2018)
Man Wo Buddhist Temple (©Deborah Clague, 2018)
Tai O Fishing Village, Lantau (©Deborah Clague, 2018)
Wish Garden, Wong Tai Sin Temple (©Deborah Clague, 2018)
Bird Market, Hong Kong (©Deborah Clague, 2018)
I was all set. My suitcase packed and I even took a sleeping pill to ensure that I would get a good eight (or so) hours of sleep prior to the long day of international travel ahead. Exiting the shower, I could already feel the drowsiness set in. Success. But a cursory glance at my phone changed that—several notifications from Air Canada filled my screen notifying me that my flight the following morning was cancelled.
My city ended up getting around 24cm of snow in just over twenty-four hours. With my first flight kaput, I missed out on my connection to Hong Kong and had to postpone my holiday by one day. Admittedly, I was disappointed (and who wouldn't be). Thoughts of lost moments (and lost money) gave me brief anxiety ... but all that dissipated when I checked into my hotel and set sight on the view in my upgraded room. Nothing else seemed to matter. This was priceless.
Ten years ago, my father and I backpacked around mainland China. It was an experience I had idealized in my head but in actuality wasn't fully prepared for; I was exposed to so many different sights, sounds, flavours, experiences and ideologies that mid-way through, I became overwhelmed and quit. I wanted to go home. To appease me, my father instead booked an extended stay at a nice hotel in Chengdu and we remained stationary as "locals" for awhile. It worked but in the end this cost myself the opportunity for total immersion and understanding of difference. I've taken a new approach with subsequent excursions and now embrace being uncomfortable to a certain extent. The growth I've had in the last ten years is proof of that. For instance, I don't think my partner and I would have made it otherwise—he's a doctorate scientist from Kerala and I'm an artist from the Canadian prairies. It's not just a blending of cultures, but of mindsets. We make it work.
In the decade since that trip, there has been much change in my life. I moved to a new city and transitioned from entrepreneurship to a fulfilling career in education. Added to my family and cut ties to other branches of it. Made lifelong friends and kissed unforgettable loves goodbye. I learned to truly live for the moment but also take time to reflect on (and respect) the past lest it haunt me. And then there was the single most important thing to happen in my life: I lost my father, best friend and perennial travel partner.
In a way, this trip marks a bookend for the period. It is a return to a place that kicked my ass ten years ago. It is an acquiesce for it to kick my ass again, if needed. My father would appreciate this. May he be with me in spirit.
And may the next ten years provide as much adventure and evolution to my life. Let's go.
Me and a friend at the Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding (©Deborah Clague, 2007).
It was all too brief, but Banff National Park always delivers a memorable holiday:
Hiking near Bow Falls with the iconic Banff Springs Hotel in the background.
Bow Falls
Enjoying the view while driving the Columbia Icefields Parkway.
Hiking up to Athabasca Glacier.
Inukshuk near the edge of Athabasca Glacier.
Adding a stone, making a wish.
Despite sweating in the heat earlier in the day, I was absolutely frozen at the top of Athabasca Glacier.
Hiking a beautiful valley in Jasper National Park.
These guys stopped traffic.
Dining at Seoul South Korean Restaurant in Banff. He asked for "as spicy as you can possibly make it ... and then make it spicier". No heart attacks or other health issues reported, thankfully.
Hiking the jurassic landscape at Horseshoe Canyon near Drumheller, Alberta.
Roar! The World's Largest Dinosaur primed to attack.
What kid – and kid at heart – wouldn't love visiting a town with giant dinosaur statues near every intersection? I love it!
In 2015, as part of my "year of adventure", I travelled to South Korea. During my time there, I had to trek to the infamous border shared with the North; the most heavily fortified in the world. I took two tours – the public DMZ tour as well as a private tour of South Korean military bases led by a former General. It was one of the most fascinating, memorable experiences of my life. A moment spent witnessing modern history and a good lesson on the effects of war that hopefully don't escalate in the present day.
Because of recent escalations, I thought I would post a throwback that hopefully provides a bit of insight into what it's like to travel there. Links to my past writings and a gallery of images are below.
To view pictures of Korea, click here.
With a South Korean soldier at the demilitarized zone (DMZ) (©Deborah Clague)
Standing on the roadway that leads to the North Korean border (©Deborah Clague)
Signage on the private DMZ tour I took in 2015 (©Deborah Clague)
Vista of North Korea (©Deborah Clague)
My best friend likes to wake me up by sitting on my face. I gasp, choking for air, and this reaction causes him to move over and stare at me intently. Where words are not possible, he uses his big brown eyes to beg and plead. Shame on me that I love him so much, I let him get away with it even though it's 6:00am and I am on vacation desperately wanting to sleep in long enough to just wake up when Price is Right is on. Sigh.
I always thought any slumber-related demise for me would be an accidental overdose of sleeping pills but this has made me realize it may end up a result of involuntary manslaughter on his part.
He cute though.
There are so many great areas to unwind in or around Winnipeg that I don't totally mind the early morning wake-up call by a 20lb pooch desperate to explore all the new sights and smells outside. It gives me some much needed exercise (as well as an excuse to later indulge in an afternoon nap).
My absolute favourite place near Winnipeg is La Barriere, a 323 acre park a very short distance from my mother's house. Its forest trails hug the snaking La Salle River and I've always marvelled at how tranquil it is. I don't think I've ever seen more than three other vehicles parked when I've visited, although the assumption of solitude may be misleading at times. I, uhm, do have a story about ... er, stumbling upon two individuals ... erm ...
It's also a great place for birdwatching.
Another great spot to reconvene with nature is Assiniboine Forest/Assiniboine Park, which at 700 acres makes up one of the largest urban forest areas in North America. This was the first place I took the dogs while visiting my hometown. We explored for hours. And after Reggie dived into the pond (nearly dragging me with him), I ended up cleaning my new car for hours. His personality is vastly different than Monty's. Where Monty is a happy-go-lucky lapdog constantly trailing my shadow, Reggie is the most stubborn, indifferent canine I've ever known.
I'm so proud. I've taught him well.
I'm very partial to the south-end of the city, as that is where I was raised. St. Norbert is a historic, bilingual neighbourhood that lands just on the periphery of the city proper. Within walking distance of my mother's home is Trappiste Monastery Provincial Park wherein lies the burned architectural ruins of Trappiste Monastery founded in 1892. I remember skipping school as a teen and spending the afternoons here with my friends, watching the clouds pass by and dreaming about what our future selves would become. As an adult, I now walk the dogs there to ponder that exact same thing.
Manitoba's Interlake region is a geographic corridor between Lake Winnipeg and Lake Manitoba in which a number of historic and scenic sights are located for tourist exploration. While on a recent visit to my home province, a good friend and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and embarked on a day trip to visit some of those hotspots. It started with a legendary hot dog and ended with an eerie, allegedly haunted church.
Skinner's is a Manitoba institution and welcomes visitors at the gateway to the Interlake. I can attest to the fact that their hot dogs are delicious but the ice cream is also worth the drive as well.
Lower Fort Garry is a National Historic Site built in 1830 by the Hudson's Bay Company. In addition to being a centre of commerce and trade, it was also the location in which Treaty No. 1 was established between the federal government and seven First Nations chiefs marking the birth of modern Manitoba.
During the summer, actors recreate life as it would have been during colonial times.
Gimli is one of the most beautiful towns in Manitoba. Situated on Lake Winnipeg in the heart of the Interlake, Gimli was traditionally settled by Icelandic immigrants, of which the culture and language is still maintained today.
The "haunted" St. Andrews Church. My father shared a story of this place on several occasions, the details of which never altered. Either he had a really good memory for random tall tales he scared his kid with or there is something more to the church's legend.
My last day on the Isle of Man, I explored Douglas a bit more and did some shopping. The same cab driver that gave me the inside scoop upon arrival was again my ride back to IOM. On this passage, he told me stories about the world's largest online gambling company, PokerStars.net, setting up shop on the island and the increased presence of secret service agents solely to monitor its financial activity. It was all quite fascinating. I was also fascinated by his innate ability to hold conversation looking at me in the backseat while navigating the winding, narrow roads. Decades of watching the island's famous TT races must have seeped into his subconscious intuitively letting him know every curve.
We parted ways and he commented again on the "twang" in my accent and at how pleasant it was to drive a Canadian around for once. I had done my duty representing my home and native land in a friendly, polite manner.
At IOM, I took some time to reflect upon my journey. I again felt like I accomplished a lot on this trip and could properly cross off another item from my bucket list (half of which are now complete in the two years since writing that post). What to do next? Where to go? I truly feel the world is my oyster. Being at this point in life is an accomplishment in and of itself.
On a final note, I did discover more about the mysterious R.A.K. Clague, whose name I found on a World War II memorial inside St. Paul's Cathedral, London. The Librarian at the church has been very helpful in providing further information. I am not sure if they are a direct relative, but this other instance of fate is important for me to note.
His name was Rupert Clague. I do not have an exact age but he was a member of the St. Paul's Cathedral Choristers from 1931 - 1935. He later joined the Royal Navy and was killed in action during World War II (date of death is September 27, 1941). The following poem is attributed to his hand:
"The cloud I see is like a rose,
With morning sun behind it.
I gaze as it before me blows
And beautiful I find it."
Rupert Clague, circled. Date unknown.
Moghrey Mie
Good morning in the Manx language
The next morning upon waking up from slumber, I made myself a cup of Cadbury cocoa and watched as numerous people strolled along Douglas Bay. My cab driver from the previous afternoon was correct; there was a different pace of life here. A slower, more personable one. It was a Monday but the Manx Museum and shopping district of the capital would not be open until 10:00am. The sun had risen but the roads were still nearly deserted. There was no hustle-and-bustle. There was no rat race. Just dogs chasing sticks in the sand. I could live here.
I paused and enjoyed the view, thinking of bloodlines that had come before and imagining what propelled them to leave and settle elsewhere. From this jade jewel in the Irish Sea, I somehow came to being in Canada.
Fastyr Mie
Good afternoon in the Manx language
I eventually checked out of my hotel and made my way to the Manx Museum. The 10,000 year history of the island is explored through film, galleries and interactive displays and, like all museums in London, has free admission. I did thoroughly enjoy the Manx National Art Gallery display, as well as the Viking and Victorian-era artefacts, but the non-linear flow of the museum was confusing. One minute, I was learning about the famous TT races. The next I walked into an exhibit on primitive man. The next I was learning about the Depression-era economy. I did pick up a "Pocket Manx" guidebook on the basics of the language, which was a neat souvenir.
I didn't learn a lot about my surname at the museum but further research has informed me that the family name dates to ancient times, perhaps exceeding the Norman Conquest (11th Century). The name is patronymic in origin and is an anglicanization of the Gaelic name Mac Liagh denoting "the son of Liaigh", from the Irish word "liaigh" meaning "physician".
As late as 1986, Clague was the ninth most common name on the Isle of Man, although there weren't as many as I expected in the Yellow Pages. Perhaps a hundred or so. Clague is the original Manx spelling; "Clegg" is the assimilated English version.
Our family crest is an eagle rising argent.
Oie Vie
Good night in the Manx language
*Safe journey in the Manx language
Satellite image of the Isle of Man
The main purpose of my recent excursion to England was to visit the Isle of Man, birthplace of Clague. Located in the Irish Sea, the small island is a self-governing Crown dependency known for its wealth, low crime rate and, ahem, money laundering schemes. At least these were the things my cab driver chose to inform me of enroute from IOM to Douglas, the capital. Taking taxis is always an interesting experience for me (Citation 1 and 2). I genuinely enjoy the conversation with someone who knows the streets like no other, especially those that demonstrate a genuine pride in their home (adopted or otherwise).
This particular cabbie was an Isle of Man citizen, born and bred. After explaining the purpose of my sojourn and telling him my surname, he immediately replied "Ah yes – that is a very famous Manx name. I know two Clagues actually ... both are artists." I thought this anecdote was interesting. Perhaps it's in our genes.
He continued to tell me about how much I would love island life in comparison to the mainland. London was too fast-paced and unforgiving, he explained. The people didn't care about anything except getting ahead.
"I don't mean to be rude" I said sheepishly after he completed his rant, hoping not to offend him by the bold statement to follow "but I actually feel that London has the rudest people I've ever encountered. And I've been all over the world".
"What do you mean, rude? You're not being rude, you're right. They are!!! Doesn't bother me any. I'm not English. You're not English either. You're MANX!" he bellowed, diverting his eyes from the roadway to warmly meet my gaze in the backseat.
It became one of the most memorable moments of my trip. I had traveled 6,186km from my Canadian home to my ancestral home and was embraced as one of their own.
I didn't have the heart to tell him I was also half French.
*The title of this post means "a taste of Manx" in the traditional language.
First glimpse of the Isle of Man from my flight (©Deborah Clague)
Welcome signage at IOM (©Deborah Clague)
View from my hotel room overlooking Douglas Bay. (©Deborah Clague)
Selfie at Douglas Bay, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Victorian architecture lining Douglas Promenade, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Douglas Promenade, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Douglas, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Victorian architecture lining Douglas Promenade, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Selfie on Douglas Promenade, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Memorial to Manx residents who died during the two world wars. There were several Clague names listed (under Royal Navy), Douglas Promenade, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Joseph Clague and Thomas Clague, both members of the Royal Navy, are listed on a memorial to those who died during the two world wars (©Deborah Clague)
W.C. Clague is listed on a memorial to those who died during the two world wars (©Deborah Clague)
Streets of Douglas at dusk, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)
Streets of Douglas at dusk, Isle of Man (©Deborah Clague)