Yep, that’s the IATA code for Toronto Pearson Airport. I realise I am cheating. Despite wracking my brains since A, I’ve failed dismally to come up with a suitable Y. I have friends in Yangon, but have never visited. I’ve reported on events in Yogyakarta from afar. And I’ve been to York, Yarmouth and Yeovil, but not in connection with any Salvation Army business, so I’ve ruled then out for this retrospective. Strictly speaking, I’ve not worked at or for The Salvation Army in Canada either (though never say never!) but I promise we’ll be back with aplomb to round this series off with a decent Z tomorrow.

So, YYZ it is then. Mark, The Salvation Army’s in-house travel manager was excellent at sniffing out the best possible airline tickets. And when I was asked to attend a conference in New York which finished with breakfast on Friday, he was keen to help me out with extending my stay into the weekend if this could be done at no cost to the Army. We established that returning from Toronto was the same price as from JFK, so a quick foray to Canada was agreed.

I was only too pleased to book a ticket on the Maple Leaf, Amtrak’s daily train from New York to Toronto. But then, where to stay?

This is where I can bring today’s missive back on track, as it were. As I’ve mentioned at various times, a large proportion of people I have encountered in and through my work have been among the most welcoming and generous I’ve met. I have sipped tea in a tin-hut church on a Darjeeling plantation and in a friend’s house in Lusaka. I’ve enjoyed meals and sparkling conversation in homes and local restaurants on every continent. And I’ve lost count of the times that people have very generously offered accommodation or personal tour guide facilities ‘when you’re in town…’

Former IHQ Communications boss John Murray was one so minded to offer such hospitality, and so I took him up on it. As it happened, John and his wife Brenda were due to fly out of YYZ themselves on the Saturday, but such was their kindness that they offered me the keys to their house! (And, indeed, fridge!)

That was not before, however, picking me up from Toronto Union station and ensuring that I had a thorough orientation of downtown Toronto, including mandatory stops at Tim Horton’s and the national hockey Hall of Fame. The Murrays’ infectious enthusiasm for their home city was just the tonic for a cracking weekend. They also showed me around The Salvation Army’s Canada & Bermuda HQ before settling me in to their comfortable home with a great meal and convivial conversation.

And so followed a weekend of pure tourism, with a supremely convenient base a few minutes’ stroll from a subway station. CN Tower, national railway museum, bacon sandwich at St Lawrence Market and beavertails on Toronto Island, that kind of thing. The weather was glorious throughout.

But one personal highlight was to have breakfast at the Royal York Hotel, a grand old establishment facing the city’s railway station. This had significance beyond the burgeoning buffet tables full of pastries, eggs and waffles. My maternal grandfather had worked here 70(?) years previous, and it was like a portal back in time. It was very easy to imagine him walking through the chandeliered halls, greeting customers and showing them to their seats. His modern day counterpart was really interested to hear of my tangential family connection, and brought me a free mimosa to mark the occasion. Truly memorable.

So Y is really for You. Thank you for your hospitality, cooperation in my hare-brained schemes and trust in sharing your stories with me.