Tomorrow I'll be boarding a plane heading to Vancouver. Unlike the last two times, this trip will be one-way. Once I land, I get to walk the immigration gauntlet, after which I'll hopefully get a valid work permit.

Apparently, my life comes down to a big bag of clothes, a suitcase stashed with media, a backpack full of electronics and a box of books trailing behind. Plus, two bottles of beer.

Aside from my friends and family, I'll be missing the national sport of sandwich-making, sweet sweet Pêcheresse and fries that have anything but ketchup on them. Oh, and buildings that are older than 150 years.

The Belgium-Vancouver Beer Pipeline is the first of several steps intended to remedy this problem.