www.couchsurfing.org

Go to it, right now. Spend a few minutes checking out the site, then come back here and read this. You ready now? OK.

So, if you checked out the site you'll know that in a nutshell couchsurfing is a "worldwide network for making connections between travellers and the local communities they visit". When I first learned of the couchsurfing project from a friend, I couldn't believe that such a thing existed; this was something way more awesome and powerful than anything I could have ever fathomed in the deepest reaches of my imagination! I signed up immediately (it's free, although you can donate money to the couchsurfing project if you choose to do so) and have had dozens of interesting stories and positive couchsurfing experiences since. After spending time on the road I love wandering into someones home, the smell of the last meal cooked still lingering in the air. Flipping through books and magazines left lying around, admiring the art on their walls, scratching their cat behind the ears, and just soaking in the ambiance of a house that is lived in.

I've couchsurfed from Whitehorse to Mulege, sleeping on sofas, floors, beds, and futons along the way. I've stayed in bachelor pads, apartments, condos, houses, and multi-million dollar mansions. I've always been welcomed in to the host's home with open arms, often given the keys to their house, and usually been told to help myself to the contents of the fridge. I can't count how many amazing meals I've cooked with couchsurfing hosts, how many late night conversations I've had, or how many times I've said to myself "gee, I'm sure glad that so-and-so told us to check this out". I met my roommates in Terrace via couchsurfing, and had one of the best summers of my life living with them. I've hosted couchsurfers stay at my place in Surrey, each one bringing new foods, ideas, or points of view into my life.

Couchsurfing isn't for everyone though. I think it's for people who actually want to experience the local culture, not just view it from a third floor balcony overlooking the resort section of town. It's for people who are flexible, sociable, and interested in interacting with other people. I can assure you, however, that the day I decide couchsurfing isn't for me will be the day I die.

Let me tell you about my last couchsurfing experience in Thunder Bay to give you an idea of that I'm talking about.

Toby and I arrived in Thunder Bay in the early evening after spending a better portion of the day hanging out at the outstanding Kakabeka Falls with Sebastion, another TransCanada cyclist. I called up Ayla, whom I had contacted a few days earlier about staying at her place while I was in the city, but got her answering machine, "Hi you've reached Ayla's home. If this is Meaghan, the keys are under the flowerpot-make yourself at home! Otherwise, leave a message!". Address in hand, we moseyed on over to her place in the late evening, got lost, asked for directions, got sidetracked when the folks we asked directions from insisted they buy us a couple of beers, eventually arriving at her place half past eleven.

Ayla and her boyfriend Ian greeted us with smiling faces and friendly questions about bike touring. We both had a comfortable night's sleep; Toby up in the attic and me on mattress in the guest room. Ayla and her boyfriend are both college students who love the outdoors, both trying to live a sustainable lifestyle with a focus on eating local whole foods and living in a good way. They not only provided us with beds to sleep on, food to eat, and our first showers of the week, but also gave us an insiders perspective on living in Thunder Bay. We shared stories, cooked together, listened to music, and talked about everything from renewable energy to back country camping to the multiple uses of socks (Ayla and I both use them to store our cameras, while Toby has created a handy ipod armband with one of his).

When we awoke the next day, the four of us took off on our bikes to the Saturday Farmer's Market, where we devoured cinnamon buns, bought some homemade jam, and picked up veggies for dinner. Toby and I spent the rest of the day exploring town and hanging out by the lake, arriving back at Ayla's place to the smell of fresh baked bread. Not being able to resist ourselves, we broke off pieces of her delectable bread while she and Ian cooked up pizza (crust from scratch, pesto from basil in the garden) and tossed together a mammoth salad. We dined late at night, up on the roof with plates on our laps and wine glasses by our sides listening to the sounds of a blues concert in the background. Dinner was followed with homemade banana bread and star gazing, the four of us falling easily into conversation as the hours of the night slipped by.

The next morning we broke fast at Thunder Bay Cafe-probably one of the most interesting and unique dining establishments in all of Canada. The place is a one woman show run by Denise, a fast talking woman who warned us that the food wouldn't be coming quickly and we better be prepared to wait. We told her that we were cycling across the country, so waiting a couple of hours for breaky wasn't going to be a problem for us. The diner was full of vintage posters and memorabilia and every seat was taken. A lively woman named Lilly took our order on a scrap piece of paper place mat; she wasn't a waitress, merely a visitor from Sault Ste. Marie waiting for her food to arrive. Her daughter and her were waiting on tables, running food back and forth from the kitchen and chatting with the rest of the customers. We were told that if we wanted more coffee, we should help ourselves, "any offer some to the rest of the folks too". The entire cafe was chatting with each other as we waited for the single cook in the back to make up dozens of orders of pancakes, omelettes, and waffles. Teenagers used crayons to decorate their place-mats while they waited, and Denise threatened to boot anyone out if they so much as thought about complaining. On top of scolding you, she also slammed you with a monetary fine if you failed to devour entirely what was ordered. The whole experience was a little like eating at your grandmothers place-we even got hugs when we left! "Stay safe you guys," Denise said as we paid our bill at the ancient looking cash register, "and be sure to drop by next time you're in town!"

So that was couchsurfing in Thunder Bay. Ayla sent us packing with the rest of her glorious bread and a list of people we could stay with in a few other Ontarian towns along our route. Toby and I did some colouring and posted it on her fridge as a thank-you for having us; I hope to see her and Ian at my place on the West Coast somewhere down the line. Couchsurfers around the world now number over 2 million, which totally blows my mind. The infinite possibilities for travel await...