Still in Halifax, then. It’s not worth my while heading back into America to get on another boat as none of them go to Iceland, and I don’t want to waste another week or so getting there and back. James was out in the morning playing rugby, but in the afternoon he came back and dropped me off at the Backpackers. He would have let me stay at his place longer, but I felt it would be rude to intrude for more than three nights. And besides, I’d get to see more of Halifax from the Backpackers than I would from his place in Waverley.

But we made arrangements to go out on a short tour of Nova Scotia tomorrow, so this isn’t the last we will hear of James.

That night, there was a short-film festival going on over the road from the Backpackers, so after playing a few rounds of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon with Aiden the Northern Irish bartender in our place, I headed on over. I’ve got to say that most of the films where remarkably good. Really, really good. Okay, so there were a couple of rubbish ones involving crap black and white quirkyness, but on the whole, I was blown away by the quality and craftsmanship that had gone into these things.

After a few drinks, I met up with Travis from the Backpackers and we ended up going on a bit of an adventure around Halifax town, which culminated in me falling into the Backpackers at some ungodly hour and falling fast asleep. GOOD NIGHT HAD BY ALL THEN!