Bus stops are always interesting places. Bus stops in British Columbia are, according to my recent observations, even more interesting than those in Dunedin.
Of course, chances of encountering the so-called odds and sods of society are inevitably increased in a city with more than 600,000 people; Dunedin's urban area is comparatively intimate with just under 120,000.
Today's ride downtown was considerably entertaining and eye-opening - more so than usual, even in Vancouver.
As we (the conventional folk at the stop on 4th Avenue) waited with our hands on our laps and our legs crossed like so ... a wee posse of hooligans approached the bench.
One particularly lanky member of the inebriated gang lurched towards us, then mumbled, swore, made eye contact, and began asking questions. Annoying questions.
Questions that nobody cared to answer. Predictably, nobody answered him.
He grew frustrated, as did we who were interested in answering only one question: How to get rid of him?
"Do you smoke dope?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't." "Why not?" "Well, we don't have marijuana in New Zealand." He paused.
"In where?" Common unawareness of our special little country is disheartening. Today, however, this man's ignorance was our bliss.
"Do you drink?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't." "Why not?" "We don't have alcohol in New Zealand."
At this comment he withdrew, possibly in fear of discovering what else we don't have here in New Zealand. Phew.
Travelling alone in an unfamiliar city provides a sense of freedom through anonymity. No-one knows me, or where I'm going, or where I'm from.
Even when I speak, very few people recognise the Kiwi accent; they describe it as a strange amalgamation of British and Australian (I can hardly imagine how that would sound).
Often actions, rather than accents or appearances, betray foreignness: ordering a long black, rather than an Americano; looking the opposite way before crossing the street; wondering who's crazy when someone asks you for a "loonie."
Canadians seem just as curious about New Zealand's idiosyncrasies. The notion of Christmas at the beach is almost incomprehensible.
"Wow," one guy exclaimed, "Do you still get presents?"
Sometimes, such as during the bus-stop situation, my answers are fictional, just for fun.
Oh yes, we have dinosaurs in our forests (tuatara), birds as big as aeroplanes (royal albatross), and countless country roads with views more spectacular than their infamous Sea to Sky Highway (that's not a lie).
There's nothing like international travel to highlight the joys of belonging to such an obscure little island.
Oh, that's another harmless tale I tell: Have you read Thomas More's Utopia? , that story about a place of perfection in the Pacific ...
Katie Kenny studies English at the University of Otago.
