It was Vancouver. We once read it was rated the world's most liveable city and said we'd have to go and live there. It was just a joke, at the time. One of those absurd things. And yesterday we arrived.

I go back on that. The 'yesterday' part. I've lost all sense of time, a 10 hour flight and an endless afternoon, and then a night pitch black in the new apartment, with the children wide awake and whiny and over-excited and the adults disoriented and rather grumpy ourselves.

At seven o'clock this morning we went out to explore the new world. We saw the skyscrapers of downtown, towering and shiny new, mirrors and reflections, one against the other for kaleidoscopic possibilities. And we saw the kind of streets that they have in films, the wide American style pavements, the straight roads, neatly numbered, all arranged and prepared when humanity was already in the mood to be efficient.

There is a certain sense of 'differentness' about the place, though not as much as one might expect. The first world is much the same in my opinion, and understandable. There are shops, there are restaurants, there are uptown flats and hotels, and more trodden areas where the window shutters are cracked and the buildings in need of a refreshing coat of paint. This morning I went to a Starbucks and save a touch of extra cleanliness, I could have been in a Starbucks anywhere. Central London, in the Whiteleys shopping centre, or the one next to the Council House Extension in Birmingham. I guess that's the corporate idea, a replica of basically the same place, down to straws and napkins and light fittings, anywhere in the world. It's kind of sad that the world should go flat like this, but also, I have to admit, comforting.

We have lots to see, and many hours sleep debt to make up. We haven't fully arrived, not yet, despite having been here twenty four hours. But we're happy. Canada feels familiar enough not to be scary, and yet all new. There is a sense of civility and responsibility about the people that is quite refreshing, this is indeed the home of Caillou, a place where things run well and people can get on with their lives.

We're happy. We've made it through the packing, the selling of our things, the endless bin bags going down the lift in Palma. We've made it through the apartment search, and the paperwork, the doubts, ours and other people's, and here we are. A few hours solid sleep and we'll be good as new.

A new thing. I love new things. Vancouver.