Cassandra (Kelowna)

Zen

Kelowna is still shrouded in smoke this morning. We walked into town in search of Pulp Fiction, a coffee shop that Dan had recommended. It was an excellent call as far as the coffee was concerned, not so the service from the distracted girl-child behind the cash register. I'm not sure how you muck up: a blueberry muffin, sausage roll, hot chocolate and an espresso to have here please. Maybe it's my accent. What size coffee, 12 or 18 ounces, she asked? Espresso only comes in one size, so I assumed she was referring to the hot chocolate. 12 ounce please. And what else did you want? A blueberry muffin and a sausage roll. I even gave her a tip.

We take a seat. The muffin arrives 'to go'. No sausage roll. That's cool, I'm patient. My name is called for the coffee. My espresso is in a giant cardboard cup. Sorry, the barista says, it's all we've got. I made no comment but stared silently at the plethora of cups on top of the coffee machine. I negotiated the queue and returned to the table with the coffee and hot chocolate. Still no sausage roll, it obviously wasn't arriving because vacant server didn't order it. Too much to hold in her brain at the one time. Jayne wanted to order another one but I had had enough. A quick calculation revealed that we hadn't been charged for the sausage roll and I'm not sure how she reached the costing she did - I couldn't make it add up. There was a bakery around the corner where I purchased a muffin on the return walk to the hotel. Jayne wanted to call tis post It's a long way to the (top) shop, if you want (to rock and roll) a sausage roll, an Australian spin on the ACDC classic.

Nice view through the vines

The sensational Cassandra at the Delta was wonderful when we arrived yesterday and deservedly has this post named after her and the 1973 hit by Australian band Sherbert. Not only did we get an upgrade to a lake view room, she organised a wine tour for us. I knew next to nothing about the Canadian wine industry and have been very pleasantly surprised by the quality and range of wines.

The wine tour was excellent. Jon from Kelowna Concierge was an excellent host and his local knowledge made the experience that much better. We began at Mission Hill, the 'go to' land mark winery of the area. No expense spared. A total commercial venture. It was everything one should expect. The wine was pretty good too. In terms of tasting, it is conducted differently in Canada. While there is an increasing number of wineries that charge for tasting, in Canada you purchase a set tasting palette for a price.

The next winery, The Hatch, interesting. A barn style space, pressed metal ceilings and equally interesting wines. It is totally cool and the people working here are real. The winery story is awesome and I'm not going to relay it here. Just visit, this place is worth it. The wines are funky and lurking behind the cool facade ... talent and taste and personality. Loved it.

Mission Hill roses. Beautiful. No perfume.

Rollingdale is an organic winery that produces, amongst other wines, ice wine. I've had ice wine from Tasmania that in retrospect was probably dodgy and wouldn't meet the expectations here. The ice wine in Canada needs to exist in 8 degree below temperatures. The ice wine is ace. The other wine was interesting but not our style.

The final stop was the Indigenous Winery. Canada and Australia have a lot in common. Treatment of their First Nation people is not one of those areas. While we wait for our pathetic government to make a decision about a treaty, Canada has moved so far beyond that and areas are owned and controlled by the First Nation people. That said, I wasn't keen on their wine. Sorry.

Piano in the park ... we saw a few of these.

Back at the hotel, it was dinner and drinks and stuff. Nothing special.

Tomorrow is another transit day, Kelowna to Lake Louise. There may be or not a post following the drive.

Until then ...

The Lumberjack Song (Whistler to Kelowna)

The trip from Whistler to Kelowna was fascinating. It is a Geography teacher's dream. The end result is we left a clear sky and traded it for the smoke haze we endured earlier in the week. The rain we had in Whistler which cleared much of the smoke, has not eventuated in Kelowna.

Canada is the second largest country in the world and coming from the sixth largest, Australia, we understand the tyranny of distance better than most. Today we spent almost six hours driving. Large, yes; similar to Australia, not so much.

We left Whistler and drove further into the mountains so the alpine features continued. Eventually this gave way to glacial valleys and massive scree slopes. They varied, as we drove, from huge rocks,  the size of small cars, to fine gravel, and at times, sand or dirt. The river we followed snaked its way across the country. At one point it was almost blocked by a log-jam. It was almost a text book picture. The river flowed on, but the surface debris was captured. I'd never seen anything like it before.

The valleys carved by glaciers were complemented by those made by rivers. The differences were obvious. The U shape of the glacier that carved the landscape as opposed to wider V shape of the river valley. The river valleys had the usual flat land where lucerne was grown, or fruit and vegetables. There were many road side stalls selling what ever produce was local.

What was interesting as we drove, were the smaller settlements - those spaces where there were intermittent clusters of dwellings. The houses seemed to be temporary in nature, mobile home style, and invariably were accompanied by several derelict cars. A scene that was repeated over and again along the road we travelled. It reminded me of the abandoned cars on the Sturt Highway in Australia. Back home these communities would have been signified by a name on a sign - not so here.

At one point looking across the lucerne paddocks and the mobile irrigators, I mused that we could have been in Australia, except for those massive mountains of pine trees in the background. And then we were ascending again, back into the fir trees and alpine climate.

In the midst of the landscape there were occasional sites where logging had occurred and we drove behind several huge logging trucks along the way.  Hence today's title dear reader. Uninspiring? Perhaps. But at some point it had to make an appearance. It is, after all, quintessentially Canadian - via Monty Python. They didn't seem to be as rabid as the cowboy coal truck drivers who intimidate other road users on Appin Road. Going uphill, we actually managed to pass a couple of these trucks and not get mown down subsequently on the next downhill section.

And so we wended our way from Whistler through Lillooet and then Lytton, Merrit and finally onto Kelowna.  We stopped once at Lytton to get petrol having ascertained what grade fuel we needed, what side the petrol tank was located and how to open it. All seemed well until it became apparent that you had to pay for the petrol before you pumped it into the tank. An interesting concept since you might ask how one is supposed to know how much petrol one needs until one has actually filled the fuel tank???

Jayne fronted the counter staff on this conundrum to be told we had to nominate an amount - $40 was the agreed sum which in fact diddled them out of additional revenue as we actually would have purchased more fuel than we did, if we had known how much we needed to fill the tank ...

The road was generally good all the way through, so my concern about driving such a large car on the wrong side of the road was largely unfounded. For most of the journey the road was carved into the side of a mountain which followed the river below. On the more major roads overtaking lanes were reasonably frequent, although not on the minor ones. 

There was one section just out of Lillooet where the road narrowed to one lane and was scratched onto the side of the mountain. Thankfully we didn't meet anyone coming from the other direction since the roadside instruction was to give way to whoever arrived first. Again, not sure how the sequence of arrival would have been determined but shortly after this, a passenger bus came the other way so probably size would have been the telling factor in the contest had it occurred on the one lane stretch and we would have lost.  

The hotel in Kelowna is on the lake and we were upgraded to a lake view room. Nice. And given a complimentary wine tasting in their tasting room in the lobby. Better. Finally, dinner prices returned to a more reasonable level after the inflated prices of Whistler. Best.

Sunset through the smoke

After dinner we went back to our room, turned off the air-con and opened the doors to enjoy the breeze and the evening. Sounds pleasant doesn't it? It was delightful, until the bugs invaded and covered the ceiling. Jayne called reception and asked them to send up some spray to dispatch them to the nether world. Instead we got Ryan and a vacuum cleaner. He proceeded to vacuum the bugs up, carefully and painstakingly whilst giving us a lesson in the entomology of the region - sand flies are apparently called fish flies here. Whatever they are called, Jayne and the little flies don't get on, as we found out on North Stradbroke Island many years ago. So she assisted Ryan in the bug spotting till all were sucked away.  In all my travels, I can't say that I have experienced that before.  The doors will remain closed tomorrow evening no matter how balmy the weather.

Until tomorrow ...

Forever young (Whistler)

A stunner of a day

This is the final post from Whistler and it contains a few reflections, not just on Whistler but on things we have observed on this trip. I'm sure you remember J.M.Barry's classic tale, Peter Pan, my literature loving reader. Whistler is Never Never Land, the place that Peter returned to time and again with the Lost Boys so that he wouldn't have to grow up. 

Whistler is like that. It is full of people avoiding life, adulthood, responsibility. There is no one country that wins this competition, although if it were an Olympic event, Australia would certainly be in medal contention. The majority of work is fractional and many people are employed in a number of different places to make ends meet. Most jobs are hospitality related, many pay below award wages so relying on tips is essential. It is very much a work to party culture. This is well beyond work to live. After the party ends, and it will end someday, there is nothing to fall back on. The cost of living here is extreme, particularly rent. On the weekend just gone, the weather was (for this time of year) appalling, the bars and pubs and cafes were packed from morning till well into the night. While this lifestyle might appeal for a while, even Peter Pan gave up the pursuit of being forever young. And with that we cleverly link to today's title. There are many versions of this 1984 Alphaville song but my favourite is Youth Group (2005), and a song regularly featured on The O.C.

The same view as the last two mornings

The base of the ride

Our final full day here dawned an absolute stunner, blue skies and no cloud. Perhaps it was a little quieter than the weekend, that, or everyone is up on the mountain. We wandered the Village and ended up back at Purebread for breakfast. The pastries are delectable. I even had them make me an upside down Americano coffee, like we make coffee in the rest of the known world, water first then coffee shot. It wasn't bad, but should've gone for a double shot. Then we took a few photos of the Village and surrounding mountains and just enjoyed the sunshine and the warmth in preparation of the Peak to Peak walk.

As we strolled the Village Stroll, I was forced to ask, not for the first time since we have been away, why do some people need to shout when the person they are talking to is standing next to them. This affliction appears to be indiscriminate in terms of gender, but seems to be a market cornered by a few specific nationalities. It is a problem that occurs outside as well as in the confines of a bar or restaurant. In reality it is little more than an inability to consider anyone else, much like the right wing of the Australian Liberal Party. Happily it is a minority and not everyone else is shouting their conversations, just like the right wing of the Liberals represents a minority of privileged white middle class men who are out of touch with reality. I'm looking you Tony Abbott and company.

This is for you Cait

The glorious morning melted into an equally glorious afternoon and we decided to brave the crowds and the queues (well Dan did) and we secured tickets for the Peak to Peak gondola and the Skybridge. It would appear that my previously irrational fear of heights has almost disappeared. Although it would have been truly tested on the Skybridge which, unfortunately, had just closed by the time we made the summit.

The Skybridge

Despite the altitude it really wasn't that cold up there and the crowds of people that had been lining up all day had amassed on various parts of the mountain top. The Gondola ride from peak to peak is a feat of engineering. It is almost 4.5km in length and the longest unsupported span is over 3km and it is 436m above the valley floor. It is a remarkably smooth ride and the lines moved quickly and efficiently, especially on the trip back as it was nearing closing time.

The queue for the gondola back down the mountain to Whistler was enormous and as we moved toward the gate we watched the queue ebb and flow until at one point it had doubled back on itself and it was difficult to see the end. Again, the line moved quickly given the hundreds of people waiting for a ride for back down to earth.

The ski runs look like a golf course

Don't step out the door unless it's been snowing

The view from the top

The view from the gondola

On the way down I saw a bear foraging in the undergrowth. He was golden in colour. Danaka said the colour of the fur probably meant he was big and old. Cool. My first exciting piece of Canadian wild life. The geese do not count.

Today is a transit day as we say goodbye to Dan and Danaka and move from Whistler to Kelowna. The maps suggest it is around 5 hours 30 minutes so no doubt it will take me longer, which means there may or may not be a post tomorrow.

Until then ...

Chocolate cake (Whistler)

Yesterday after the less than impressive breakfast cafe experience, Dan, Danaka and Mickey arrived to take us to a coffee place Dan discovered last year.  Interestingly, the place was established by a lady who learnt to barista in Melbourne, set up her initial coffee enterprise on the East coast of Canada and then branched out to the West in Whistler.  She has subsequently sold the shop and it is renamed Cranked but the quality of the coffee has thankfully been maintained under the new owner.

Re-caffeinated, we went to another local haunt, peculiar to this place, called Re-Use in search of a cake tin to cook a birthday cake for Dan. The concept here is that the population is so transient that nobody arrives with much or leaves with much in the way of household items.  So you come into town, find somewhere to live and work and then come to this place to buy ample basic items you need to set up home.  Items range from kitchen goods and utensils to clothes, books, ornaments, electronics - all at very cheap prices.  When it's time to move on, you simply drop off anything you don't want to take with you so it can be resold to the next wave of Whistler arrivals. This is not a second hand store as the stuff here may have been donated multiple times over - in fact Dan saw something on a shelf that he had donated when he moved house a couple of months ago.

After we had located a suitable cake tin and paid the bargain price of $1.60, including tax, as yesterday was a 50% off sale day, we headed back to Whistler Village to call Jayne's mum so she could speak to Dan.  Then we set out for a pre-dinner Guinness at the Brick Works followed by a great dinner of authentic pizza washed down by ample Italian red.  A very pleasant way to finish Dan's Australian birthday.

Today dawned in Whistler much the same as it did yesterday. The rain commenced around 6am but lasted only an hour or so, the cloud was low and threatened to keep coming down the mountain to the village, almost in defiance of summer. Another lazy beginning to the day and Dan's Canadian birthday. We strolled to the other end of the village for a decent coffee and a breakfast that wasn't over-priced, or over-sized. They have weird breakfast food in Canada. Have you ever heard of a breakfast sandwich my dear reader? It's a thing here. While there is an ample range of pastries that you would recognise they also serve savoury pastries, like bacon muffins. Anyway, at least Purebread understands coffee and the hot chocolate is made on milk - and for the weight watchers out there, skim milk is not on the menu.

The breeze had begun to pick up a little by the time we had finished breakfast. The ample queue that almost made me turn away as we arrived, was now out the door and down the steps. Take-out as they say in North America is big. Sippy cups abound. You know my theory on that, if you can't/won't/don't make time to sit and drink a coffee, then you don't deserve to have one. The concept of a coffee is to take time out, to stop and reflect and rest.

Back at the hotel suite, Jayne set about making Dan's birthday cake. This was an interesting experience. The oven has no interior light and is not fan forced. The ingredients had to be improvised a little as well.  In a retro move, there is no electric mixer, it had to be done by hand. Finally, the cake tin that we purchased at Re-Use is a different size and shape to the one used back home. We were hoping it was of ample size to hold the rising cake mixture. It was more like a science experiment than baking. Today's title courtesy of Crowded House, 1991.

Once the cake was made and covered in chocolate icing, we went in search of Dan and Mickey who were riding the bike trail. We arrived in time to see them come down the last mountain part of the trail on their last run. We also witnessed a young boy being carried down the slope, tear streaked face, bumps, bruises and grazes. It was painful now, but tomorrow they would be badges as courage as the story of the crash was told and re-told. Dan said he was grateful for his motor cycle riding experience that saved him on more than occasion.

Dinner was at Basalt for Dan's birthday, after we farewelled Mickey who was heading back to Australia. There are many great places to eat in Whistler and Basalt would have to be near the top of the list. A small menu of dishes that are contemporary fusion and a great selection of wine and drinks. Then it was upstairs for dessert, the lovingly baked chocolate cake.

The rain persisted throughout the day, but the promise for tomorrow is blue skies and 24 and a return to summer. We shall see.

And in case you didn't guess, the word of the day was: ample.

Sorry (Victoria to Whistler)

And so my long-suffering reader the day has arrived. The day when I have to put aside my fears, remember that left means the hand with the ring on it, righty-tighty and lefty-loosie and resist my natural bent to drive more to the left side of the lane. Yes. Today I drive.

Before: The Bride to Downton

After: The Bridge to Downtown

 We had breakfast in the Club Lounge on the patio that has a lovely view of the harbour and downtown. Today is probably the clearest it has been, although it is still hazy. We had attempted the Lounge before but it is the smallest I have seen and if you don’t get in early you are relegated to the patio. This morning this was fine, but the other evening it was very cold in the wind, so we relented and were lured back to the hotel restaurant (aptly named Lure) for another over-priced, average meal.

Bags packed and check-out completed, we walked to the car park to tackle the white beast. Keys in the ignition. Slam the door – hey, it doesn’t shut otherwise. Up comes the GPS. Program in the ferry terminal. Slowly negotiate my way out of the parkade – I assume that is a peculiarly Canadian expression as I’ve not heard it elsewhere. Look to the GPS. Silence. Speculate on the direction to go. Incorrect. Damn! Drive for a while and suddenly she sparks into life. I’d be forever muscling my way into traffic if I relied entirely on her. The directions are a little late. Out onto the highway - so far so good.

The real challenge for the day is to arrive at the ferry terminal at the right time. The ticket says to get there between 60 and 30 minutes before sailing. It also warns if you are late you fill forfeit your booking and the same applies if you are early. I am early for everything, tardiness is not a feature of my world. If I am late, it is deliberate.

I drove within the speed limit and we arrived 20 minutes before 11am. Worried, I pulled over to the side of the road. It was that or join one of the queues. You see, dear reader, the highway terminates at the ferry terminal. There is nowhere else to go. We sat on the roadside and watched the queue get longer until we wouldn’t be able to join it. Jayne decided to go and speak to one of the traffic wardens who then took pity on the stupid Australians and called us forward into the queue.

Ticket paid for, lane allocated, we drove forward to be the second in line and subsequently the second on the ferry. And that is where I sat as I began to write this. The view was quite pleasant, however, a car alarm was now going off, destroying the peace. Then the announcement: Would the owner of a white BMW please return to your car, the motor is running. What the actual? Who leaves their car running while it is parked for a 90 minute journey?

The view from the fery

There are lots of little islands

The journey was uneventful and I dozed as we crossed back to the mainland. Onto land and once again the GPS was in control. It directed us to the heart of Van. Surely there was a quicker way? I later discussed this with Dan and he and Danaka assured us that was the only way to go. It probably added 30 minutes to the trip because we crawled through Downtown Van to get to the other side and Highway 99.

Once on the open road, I began to feel more comfortable with the car. Despite the remnant smoke haze, the view is quite spectacular and the road is carved into the mountain side with views across to numerous small islands scattered along the river and the townships clinging onto the mountain side.

Near Squamish, we passed through a police radar check. I have remained within the speed limit since getting behind the wheel and here is my song reference for this post, Tracy Chapman's Sorry from her self-titled debut album in 1988. Every other car on the road was ignoring the speed limit and I'm sure I inconvenienced a few of them by obeying the sign posted speed. Therefore, I am sorry.

The big news on the local Sea to Sky Corridor radio station was a warning about a dead Bambi, the young one, not the King of the Forest size, on the Northbound lanes between Squamish and Whistler.  Crews were on the way to remove the hazard.  We had actually commented on the deer when we had driven by - it was off to the side of the road and no problem to get around.  It had prompted us to wonder why we have not seen venison on any menus so far. Road kill here is nothing compared to Australia: all we have seen is a couple of birds, one hedgehog and this deer.  We have yet to see a bear but reckon they could caused a sizeable dent in the car.

We finally made Whistler after more than 6 hours in the car. Did a quick bag drop and drove over to Dan and Danaka's to see the house and then return to Whistler Village for dinner. We declined the offer to party on and retired to our suite to recover form the day's transit.

Saturday dawned grey and wet. It is the first rain we have seen since we arrived in Canada and it is most welcome. It will certainly help to take some of the smoke from the air even if it is not heavy enough to extinguish the fires. Given the weather, we decided today would be a lay-day - doing the  washing and just hanging around the Village.

Not so summery in Whistler today.

(Listen to the) flower people (Vancouver Island)

Today is our last full day in Victoria. Tomorrow is a transit day as we drive to Whistler a day earlier than planned. There will be no blog tomorrow and while today was a full day, this will be a short report.

The title? Spinal Tap. Enough said. I'm sorry my learned reader, you've not heard of Spinal Tap. may I suggest a date with Dr Google and Youtube or Netflix or some other streaming service.

As good as Paris

The day began with a planned drive back to the car rental company to get the GPS fixed. Planned drive. I climbed into the Jeep and turned on the ignition and up came the GPS, working beautifully. WTF? I don't know and don't care to know, it's working. Back to our room to get ready for the day.

A Taste of Victoria walking tour was the first order of the day, well, after the GPS debacle. We met at a local market only 15 minutes walk for the hotel.  We can highly recommend this if you get to Victoria. Not only is Andy a great local guide, the places we went to were well worth a second visit. Great gourmet food from breads to olive oils to macarons to craft beer. An excellent tour supplemented with local knowledge and the history of the area.

The tour concluded at the waterfront near The Empress and the Legislature building. The Empress is sinking at the rate of 1 inch every 10 years. It was built on land reclaimed from the sea and now the sea is claiming The Empress. I love nature. It wins every time.

The Empress - is sinking into the reclaimed foreshore

Directly across the road form The Empress guarding the water views they so desired ( and will become a part of one day) is a statue of Captain James Cook. No. No photo. I live in Redfern, be sensitive dear reader. Mind you, Cook is very popular over here ... with the pigeons and seagulls.

Tour over and with a few more hours to burn before dinner we caught the bus to the Butchart Gardens. Warning: arty, flowery photos following and today's concluding statement.

The Legislature

The view from the Legislature to our hotel

A pretty flower

The sunken garden: amazing

Another flower

The Italian garden

More sunken garden. It used to be a quarry.

With the day over we sought out an Italian restaurant to avoid eating over-priced, over-rated meals at the hotel. What a winner. Fiamo in Yates Street. Great food and service and, unusually, not overly noisy. I'm not sure why everyone in North America needs to talk with such a LOUD voice.

Until next time.

The whale song (Victoria, Vancouver Island)

First things first my interested reader -  the title of today's post. Yes, you are correct, it is from a children's animated series: Dot. This episode is with a whale. The song goes like this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYPlvPVCMIo go on, have a listen, you know you want to.

In more mundane matters, the day dawned as those before it - to a sun shrouded by smoke haze. If anything, it was thicker out here on the island. We woke to the alarm this morning, not a pleasant experience after another late night. We are going whale watching today so breakfast is important. Otherwise, motion sickness, you understand.

Hotels are not our usual accommodation when we travel. Air BnB or an equivalent is our go to, largely because we tend to stay for 5 nights or more in the one place and use it as base to explore. This trip we have three weeks, but the real reason we are here is to see Dan, not Canada, so the holiday/tourist side is a bonus. Subsequently, hotels and no more than four nights anywhere, which, when you factor in transit days doesn't really leave a lot of time. While hotels obviously serve a purpose and can provide you with great local information, the add-ons are expensive. Breakfast for instance. If we had rented a unit we would have breakfast at home or at a local cafe. In our hotel, when pushed for time, the in-house offerings win. We paid $43 Canadian for two bowls of granola and fruit and two coffees, including taxes and tip.

We are living in castle

That is the another hidden expense in North America. Taxes and tips are not included in the initial price, so the budget conscious need to be wary. To be honest, I'm not into tipping people for doing their jobs because their employers don't/won't pay them enough. Capitalism: a winner for the bosses and it sucks for the workers. Let's go for a basic wage and health care and every one lives a life.

Since I'm having a socialist whinge, I have been shocked by the number of homeless people. Not just in Van, but also here in Victoria. I have seen homeless people in many major cities across the world, and maybe it's a sign of the times, but there are more homeless people here than in Sydney - not that it is a competition, although if it was, I'd be happy to lose. What are we doing a a community to address this?

Anyway to the whale watch tour. We got on a boat. It had a cabin = good. They supplied us with warm stuff: jackets, gloves and beanies = even better. We motored into the smoke the haze and saw humpback whales, orcas, seals and eagles (see the pictures below) = awesome. That is it, I'm done. Pictures with captions. Maybe.

Fisherman's Wharf houses

First humpback sighting

Um, like goodbye

Glad my boat had a roof

Pfft. What?

Can you see my calf?

I am the boss.

Ok, not quite done. We went to pick up the car this afternoon, a day late. Well it's difficult to organise things from the other side of the world when you are not sure what to expect, or what your timeline might be. Things change.

While I have driven on the "wrong side" of the road before, it's been a while and I wasn't particularly confident then. How happy was I to find we'd been upgraded from our sedate little Corolla to a masculine, ball-breaking Jeep? Rah! So thrilled. Not. You got the sarcasm, yeah? I want to be as innocuous as possible on the road, this will help, for sure. Despite it's testonerific size, I managed to drive it back to the hotel, with Jayne's help. The mystery as we head for slumber this evening is how the GPS works. We can't find the main navigation page. But hey, I drive a Jeep, I'll bite the crotch out of a low flying Canadian goose and read the entrails  - I'm sure that will give me the answer.

One day I will publish a post without re-reading it. Not today.

Smoke on the water (Vancouver - Victoria)

A flashback to my childhood and Deep Purple, although every budding guitarist knows the riff. And after a late night we had a slow commencement to the most dreaded day of all ... a transit day. We are leaving Van today for Victoria on Vancouver Island, a cool, relaxing 3 hour catamaran trip away.

The smoke haze (as we would say in Sydney) is low and heavy again today, hence today's title. When we arrived at the wharf the most obvious sight was the number of seaplanes tethered to the dock. The haze is so thick that there is little point doing a flyover of the area because there would be nothing to see. It must be having a major impact on tourist activities.

OK, it's yellow, but I've never seen anything like this ... since yesterday.

We checked our bags and had an hour to kill. A dawdle down the pier discovered a nice place to rest in the filtered sun. After almost an hour there, I was glad the sun was filtered otherwise I would have melted onto the pavement. It would be seriously hot here if the smoke haze disappeared. We settled in for an early lunch, which was cool because we didn't eat breakfast. Some calamari and chicken tenders and a bottle of a Pinot Grigio from the Okanagan area. Very pleasant. Really, this is what holidays are about. We ate, we people watched, we whiled away time. Then it was time to board.

The sea today is very calm, but we are travelling between the island and the open sea. I know it isn't always this way. The heavy smoke from the wild fires is shrouding the land and water and visibility is very poor. It is not dissimilar to a bad back-burn day in Sydney, or most days in Shijiazhuang. While I can appreciate the vista, it is disappointing, as the smoke has blurred what would have been stunning as we moved down the harbour.

Is that the Marie Celeste?

I was told to keep my eyes open on the trip out to the island because I could see whales. From nowhere in the grey gloom a fin rises out of the water and disappears quickly before I could alert Jayne. We were past the spot before it resurfaced. If it existed at all. I kept waiting for a sighting of the Marie Celeste.

A random thought, although I'm sure I've speculated on this before dear reader. No matter how wealthy you are, you can't buy youth or hair. There is a man on our ferry who is clearly in uniform, trophy wife, a navy jacket, particular shoes and a pretty average toupee. Ditch the trophy wife, hang with people your own age and spend your left over cash on a decent hair piece. It's all about priorities people and Peter Pan is a Disney story.

The awesome view from our room. The other side has harbour views.

Anyway, where was I? The trip across would be quite beautiful on an average day. We just happened to be travelling on a well below average day weather-wise. Still, with some photoshop work the pictures look OK.

Victoria was a surprise after the relative calm of Vancouver. To continue the analogy my dedicated reader, Victoria is the new kid in town. Everything about them is interesting. We thought we'd walk (with luggage) to our hotel. Despite dragging the bags behind us it was an interesting walk through a really cool, vibey area. Suddenly it was, who is Vancouver? How cool is Victoria?  Well, we will see.

Until next time

Because I got high (Vancouver)

Yes my patient reader I have been missing in action. A combination of jetlag and spending time with Dan has overtaken me. The cure is to condense all Vancouver days into one entry. Ambitious? Maybe, but I'll try.

The title today? Afroman from the year 2000. Not something you would associate with Van? Perhaps not. I was talking to a friend recently who had blogged about the Sydney-Melbourne rivalry. Having lived in both cities, she said Melbourne was the winner. I suggested that Sydney was the party boy you want to go out with and Melbourne was the responsible boy you marry. In that case Van is the quiet friend in the group: supportive, dependable, you're totally comfortable with them and then they pleasantly surprise you.

Vancouver just feels relaxed and it has this instant calming effect despite the excitement of seeing Dan and meeting Danaka in real time and not on Messenger. There is nothing quite like being able to hug someone, to feel their strength, their warmth, their love. Hug time over, we headed for the car park and downtown Van. The journey took about 45 minutes (actually, I have no idea since I wasn't paying attention) and the traffic was nothing to comment on. We drove through some interesting areas with massive houses, shielded by equally massive hedges - all very British (Columbia that is). It's a pity they drive on the wrong side of the road, but I won't have to face that for a few days.

Despite all of our travel delays and arriving at the hotel after 4pm, our room wasn't ready. Complimentary drinks in the bar contributed to the chilled feeling. That or exhaustion. After a round of drinks, we eventually got into the room, unpacked, showered and settled in. How good is a hot shower after nearly 30 hours in transit? Just magic. The suite is a nice size with a sofa bed and separate bedroom, which is a good thing because Dan is staying with us on Sunday night. We are on the 20th floor but there isn't much of a view due to the heavy smoke haze. That is also the reason there are not a lot of pictures.

Vancouver is a working port - look at the sulphur pile in the background.

Re-energised, it was time to meet Dan for dinner. We wandered up Robson Street toward Zefferelli's, an Italian restaurant with very good reviews. It had a good menu with some interesting specials and a great wine list. We watched a few dinners go past to other tables - they were enormous, so we decided to share a pizza for entree. Even then the mains were difficult to finish and the leftovers were bagged for later.

It was time for sleep, sleep and more sleep. Aside from an hour staring at the ceiling, I slept for almost 12 hours and could have stayed in bed, but it was Jayne's birthday and we had things to do.

Dan and Danaka picked us up at 11:30 and we went over Stanley Park and wandered around. They have a series of totem poles that originated in different parts of BC, reminders of the original occupants of the land. Then we walked along the boardwalk towards the sculpture of the Girl in a Wetsuit - a remarkably astute, if unoriginal name (see the picture above). On the way, Dan rescued a fish that a careless fisherman had caught and not quite returned to the water. One of the tourists near the totems, a young man, had the pinkest, fairy floss coloured hair I've ever seen. Gave Cait a run for her money!









Then it was off to Danaka's parents' place for a lovely lunch. Danaka picked some blueberries and wild strawberries from the garden which were so sweet. In keeping with the Vancouver vibe, we had a wonderfully relaxed afternoon on the patio and celebrated Jayne's birthday with the most delightfully decadent cake. Diva the dog, was guarding the backyard while we enjoyed lunch and saved us from a black squirrel that bounded along the fence top to safety.

Fairy floss anyone?

After Danaka was deposited safely at the airport to head off to a 3 day conference, we returned to the hotel and sat around talking to Dan. Messenger is great but it is no substitute for reality. The hours just swept by and suddenly it was 8pm and we hadn't really thought about dinner. After discussion, it was decided that Earl's would be an easy option, so we walked down to Yaletown and dined there. The young waiter wanted to be our bestie, North American style, and enquired if we wanted to know the story of the building. A potted history followed with a reference that included the statement, 'after the war'. "Which war?" Jayne enquired? Off-script, no idea, the last war this waiter was aware of was the Coca-Cola v Pepsi-Cola war. Perhaps not, he was very young, maybe it was the Taylor Swift - Katy Perry war.

The following morning we walked for breakfast to a cafe that we had seen on the previous night's walk. Good coffee, nice atmosphere. Then it was time to go for a meander along the river's edge to burn some time before Dan had to board the bus back to Whistler. The smoke was lower today and that made it seem thicker; visibility was quite poor. It was still a pleasant walk along the river bank and on a sunny day it would have been a beautiful.

One of the more surprising things about Vancouver is the marijuana laws. Not only is recreational use legal, its distribution is controlled by the government. Whatever you think, decriminalising drugs and the state controlling the distribution has to contribute to minimising the power of organised crime. So, weed shops are common place and, as we walked past one today, a guy (and his dog) step out of the doorway straight into us. "Oh sorry guys," he says, "I must have had one puff too many." He laughs, "No, just joking." Hence today's title. He continued to apologise as we wandered off into the distance.

Canadians really are the nicest people in the world. We paused on our walk to Granville Island today and didn't even have the map unfolded before a passer-by stopped to offer assistance. Then while having a quiet beer on the island we watched a man taking a photo of his family. One of the locals got up from the table and walked over to him, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned him to join his family. He hands her his phone and moves to stand with them. Phone in hand the woman turns and bolts in the other direction. Nah, just joking. She takes the photo and passes the camera back. Smiles all round.

Granville Island is an arts and culture precinct. There are lots of galleries and performance spaces, fresh produce markets, restaurants and cafes and the ubiquitous souvenir shops. I purchased a spoon for a good friend who loves her spoon collection. You know who you are, be patient, you'll have a new spoon for your collection soon. We walked to the Island from Downtown through some of the less salubrious areas of Van - Granville Street has some interesting sections. It was supposed to take 45 minutes but we knocked it off in around half an hour. The Island was crowded with drifts of people moving through the buildings, there were many tour buses.

The cement factory on Granville Island nicely disguised by artwork.

It was almost time for our lunch time beer, which has become somewhat of a tradition for us when we are exploring on our holidays. Curious behaviour really, as we rarely drink beer at home. Jayne spied an establishment offering a beer and fish and chips for $14. Bargain. Inside we went and discussed the merits of sitting inside or out in the courtyard that overlooked the river. Jayne went outside to see if it was too cold. After all, it was breezy and the tables were in shade. "No, it's OK," she said. "Let's eat outside." As I sat down she was putting her hoodie on. "Glad I brought this," she says. "I wished I had brought one too," I thought and froze for the next hour or so. Lunch was good and we got to people watch. Our favourite holiday activity.

While there are pretty parks scattered along the river bank, the architecture beyond it has a familiarity to it. I have always believed that in Sydney we have not valued our heritage (I'm talking about buildings since white settlement; sadly Indigenous history is treated with even more disdain) and have been a tad hasty in removing buildings in the name of progress. Or we totally surround them with new homes and shroud what once was or hide it almost completely from view. Campbelltown Council did an awesome job of this, selling off land for housing and dwarfing beautiful 1800s Georgian houses behind McMansions.

Well it appears that Van is way ahead of us. The high rise looks as if it has been designed by the same architect and built by the one company. Everything is pale, all the glass has that green tinge and there seems to be little variation - except through the gardens at ground level. Any building that is different really stands out, like a pimple on a pumpkin, as Jayne would say. There was one set of heritage buildings that we stumbled across - three of them on a corner surrounded by serious high rise. The future is important, but it is difficult to understand where you are going if you can't see where you've been.

The question for the day: why do people from some parts of Europe think it is OK to walk around in  bike-riding lycra gear, including shoes with cleats? As a cyclist my response is it's ok to wear lycra at a coffee shop if your bike is within reach. After that, not OK. It's the same conundrum in Sydney: how far is too far from the beach to wear your swimming costumes in public? Serious, first world problems dear reader.

And that's a wrap from Van. Tomorrow we are catching the ferry to Victoria on Vancouver Island. When I reflect on Van I will remember the seagulls. Like all the northern hemisphere gulls that I have seen, they are massive, compared to Australian silver gulls. They appear to be solitary as well and I have woken to them in the morning wheeling across the sky, crying that plaintive, sad call, echoing off the buildings. I will also remember the cars.  I have never seen so many late models Porsches, Bentleys and Ferraris outside of a showroom. Finally, I will remember that chill vibe, artificially induced or otherwise.