Toronto, Canada

If there's one thing every tourist should do in Toronto it's ascend the CN Tower for the panoramic view of the city and Lake Ontario. And sure enough that's our first stop of the day, or at least that's the plan. It's a mere two blocks from the hotel but before we even make it that far we spot an open-top sightseeing bus parked right ahead of us, so jump on board.

Fingers crossed we'll make it up the tower later but for the moment we settle in to our top deck seats, slap on the sun cream and try to ignore the mini-hangovers Paul and I are both suffering. Breakfast and strong coffee had taken the edge off but now the blazing summer sun brings the deyhdration straight back to the fore, compounded by our tour guide's voice which is a high-pitched, nails on a blackboard kind of affair.

It's only three stops though until we reach the waterfront where our ticket entitles us to a boat trip on Lake Ontario around the Toronto Islands. As we wait for the boat, there's very little shade and however much water I drink it's almost impossible to cool down. But soon the Harbour Star hoves into view, docking at the jetty and disgorging its occupants to make way for the new intake.

We traipse on to the top deck and sit under the canopy before setting off across the water. There's very little breeze but at least it's a touch cooler than baking on the promenade and as we tootle around the islands an almost soporific air develops. It's aided along by a commentary from our new tour guide who has the most bizarrely boring singsong accent, with phrasing that bears no relation to normal speech and the kind of mundane observations that would send even a cokehead to sleep.

We pass by one island housing the little city airport where propellor planes whizz overhead and another which boasts one of Canada's "three official nudist beaches", but neither elicits a flicker of interest in the somnabulent voice of Britney on the speaker-system.

Thankfully the Toronto skyline is pretty impressive so we drink in those views and upon reaching shore again, we nip into a local cafe to grab a quick bit of lunch. I opt for a grilled chicken sandwich and the local Canadian speciality, poutine: fried potatoes with cheese curds and a gravy sauce. Sadly, our teenage fast food chef has obviously yet to do her NVQ in catering as it's amongst the worst meals I've ever eaten... but I'm hungry and tired and it'll do. By the time we finish lunch it's just gone two o'clock, so 7pm Friday night back in the UK which means that my blackberry finally eases up on its constant flow of demands, and I can sit back and relax a little.

Another hour on the bus, with our third tour guide of the day keeping the commentary firmly in the dreary category, leads us past the Hockey Hall of Fame, the Flatiron Building and into the Old Town, visiting the St Lawrence Market and the Distillery District as we go. The fact that our tour guide has to resort to pointing out a parking lot and telling us that's where Parliament used to be before they burnt it down, shows quite how little of real interest there is in the way of sightseeing to be done.

That's not to say Toronto has nothing to recommend it. On the contrary, itseems a great city, very similar to New York, but just lacking some of the grand sights that normally entertain the casual visitor.

On we head past the skyscrapers of the Financial District to Old City Hall then up Yonge St to Dundas Square, Toronto's equivalent of Time Square. It's a vibrant heart to the city but by now time is getting on and we have to jump ship and head back to the hotel to start today's set of interviews.

We're back by 3.30 giving Alex and Paul a bit of time to prepare, while I get on with clearing the backlog of emails still to be dealt with. Paul does the first of his interviews in the hotel and with that in the bag we hop into an SUV and are driven to the venue for tonight's gig, the Molson Canadian Amphitheatre on the banks of Lake Ontario.

An open-air, purpose built concert venue it's been sold-out for weeks, all 15,000 tickets selling like hot cakes, which is appropriate as the air is getting sticky with humidity.

Backstage is a hive of activity so we base ourselves in catering and wait the summons to start Alex's interview in a little office on the third floor. Meantime the head of the venue introduces us to his novel new method to stop the numerous seagulls dive-bombing and crapping on the audience; a falcon named Bitchy!

She's a magnificent bird, tethered to the glove of her handler and spreading her considerable wings whenever anyone strokes her head. Before the show begins she'll be taken up to the roof and within minutes the seagulls will vanish from the area in fear of their lives. And Canadian rock fans will be able to eat junk food happily without worrying that it'll be snatched from their hands by pesky gulls.

Alex finishes his interview, to be followed by Canadian media before Paul gets another crack of the whip, and while all this is taking place I'm waiting for Katie, my Canadian friend to appear, along with her gal-pal Tiffany. About 8.30 they materialise, looking fabulous and ready to rock. It's their first Maiden gig and they're super excited, having already shaken their tush to Alice Cooper who's been cranking out the hits onstage.

We've only 20 minutes before the main event so I whisk them into hospitality, grab some drinks and have a quick chat, introducing them to Alex and Paul as we go. Bruce nips out for a quick hello with seconds to spare and then we race into the amphitheatre as the intro tape plays and the video screens come alive.

With even more pyro tonight (Ontario has more relaxed laws on explosives than Quebec) and a heady outdoor vibe, it's another cracking show so much so that after 'Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son' I leave the safety of the mixing desk and head down the front right into the crowd for the final few numbers. Bloody hell, those flames and pyrotechnics can scorch the eyebrows from your face if you're in the mosh pit. God knows how the band can cope!!

Back at the hotel post-show Katie and Tiff join us all for drinks and the evening winds its merry way into the wee small hours until I remind Paul and Alex we have an 8.30am pick up in the morning to visit Niagara Falls. Discretion being the better part of valour I take my leave just before 2am and collapse into bed to dream of waterfalls.