[usa3] toronto

Dropping beneath the clouds and banking toward the airport I get my first glimpse of the world this side of the pond. From the air the outskirts of Toronto looks not unlike the UK; fields of varying colours, bushes, trees and... a game of cricket which makes me wonder if we're atually making an emergency landing in Lancashire. The man beside me is less perterbed, casually putting on his hat; an oversized St Georges flag cowboy hat, which puzzingly I don't remember him having when he boarded.

The immigration officers at Toronto airport are clearly well drilled; trained not only to question your legality, but also your integrity;
"Are you visiting any family or friends?"
"Yes, I have a friend from University in Dallas"
"Does your luggage contain any gifts?"
"No"
"None at all?"
"No"
I reply slightly more feebly, half expecting the officer to shake his head and tut at me. I move onto baggage check feeling as though I have let my country's reputation for politeness down.