Crying over you (Vancouver to Sydney)

Something is in the air

This will be the last post (ha, see what I did there?) until the next holiday. To celebrate this fact I will include random photos from the trip to break up the text. Warning: this will be a long post and it will make you cry. Ok, maybe not you, but it made me cry. And Jayne. And Dan. Well something did. Maybe there's something in the air. The title is a no-brainer.

Leaving Edmonton ... a good idea
Another cold, grey morning in Edmonton. We packed and left the hotel efficiently as you would expect after almost three weeks on the road. For the last time, I got behind the wheel of the Barbie mobile. It was about a 40 minute drive to the airport. The traffic was light and the GPS guided us easily to the car rental return area. I'm never keen to drive on the wrong side of the road but it was much easier here than in Europe. The roads are wider, well marked and in Canada at least, the traffic is patient - even if they ignore the speed limits.

The car returned and we made our way to bag drop for Air Canada. They use the same sort of kiosk we have in Australia, except it is much more labour intensive here. We do everything ourselves; here you check and get bag tags and then get checked in again by an attendant. That's if you can walk and talk at the same time. Miss Yves St Laurent, so named because of her name brand luggage found the process all too difficult. She had the attendant check her in, print her boarding pass and bag tag, place the tag on the bag and then help her put the bag on the conveyor. Such a struggle. It was no surprise to see her a few minutes later causing a bouchon (French for  a jam) at security as her Yves make up bag was emptied and checked thoroughly.

We had decided on breakfast at the airport. A brave decision you think dear reader, well perhaps. While waiting to be security checked, I noticed an ad for a European Cafe. Surely they would understand coffee and croissant. Sadly, we were unable to locate said cafe and settled for the one next to our boarding gate. The coffee was, as expected, from a machine that does not require barista experience and the food was passable.

Sydney in Vancouver

Back in Van

The plane was a few minutes late landing in Edmonton but we arrived close to time in Van. I had a rush of blood to the head and thought we should catch the sky train. Unlike Sydney, the Canadian system is quick, efficient and cheap. $9.20 from the airport to the city centre and the airport is the terminus, so there was plenty of room for luggage - again unlike Sydney.

Once returned to daylight from the underground we needed to work out which direction to walk. I looked one way, Jayne the other. She quipped we should choose the opposite direction to what she selected. No, I said, you have the map, we'll go the way you choose. Yes, my amused reader, Jayne was wrong. Her sense of direction unerringly fails, every time.

We checked back in to the Westin and were upgraded to a corner suite with an excellent view of the mountains. The sky was a beautiful blue and crystal clear, unlike our smokey arrival a few weeks earlier. We dumped the bags, changed and walked up the street to book dinner at Zefferelli's. Some street hawker asked if I was interested in the services of a personal trainer. I must have put on more weight than I thought. Oh well, exercise and change in diet commences on Monday. I pondered this as we sat in the hotel bar drinking and eating and waiting for Dan to arrive. Dan is the real reason we are here, Canada was never on my list of places to visit.

Arrive he did. We did dinner. We did drinks. Tears. Hugs. Talked. Tears. Sometimes all at once. But it had to end at some point. Bed. Then we got up and did the talk, tears and hugs all over again.

Found a great place for breakfast. Awesome coffee and interesting food. Radically crowded to the extent they have a waiting room for you to cool your heels in while a table becomes available.

It was airport time all too soon.

Farewell Van, farewell Dan

Dan's Whistler on a clear day

So, you've all seen those soppy, tearful goodbyes in the movies. Airport scenes are the biggest tear jerkers. Well it's an hour after we parted company with Dan and both Jayne and I are still crying. Of all the tough things I've done in my life that was, without a doubt, one of the toughest. I'm sure the security people and customs have seen it all before, but I'm not sure what the servers at Vino made of us. We sat down and picked up the menu and began crying. And gin wasn't even on the list. Currently Jayne and I are taking turns at the crying thing. We are a sight. Such emotionally strong adults.

It doesn't matter how I approach this I can't be rational. I just want him to come home. Sorry, have to go. I can't see the keys through my tears.

Bits I forgot to write about previously:
Water - I know some areas have plenty of water, even frozen for later use, but they could learn a lot from Australia about water conservation. All the hotels offer 'green options'. The usual, hang your towels and re-use them, don't have your room serviced for a day and variations in-between. Some of these green choices are based around saving water. And then you step into the shower. Massive shower heads that generally have a pre-set pressure and waste huge amounts of water. Green indeed. And this wasn't just one hotel. It was everywhere we stayed.

Best friends - yes Canadians really are as polite and friendly as the brochures and stereotypes would have you believe. However, there is a limit and the Glacier walk tested it to the max. We had four different drivers in the space of a couple of hours, sometimes including extra 'associates' who provided expert (read rote learned) knowledge of whatever we were going to see. Much like the boy at Earls, don't go off script, but that's another story.

I digress. Each driver and expert wanted us to know their name. It's so tiring pretending that I care who they are. And then there is the fake enthusiasm, the over-top AWESOMENESS. Enough. I know they work for tips, but I didn't care and didn't want to play, I wasn't there to be their friend or participate in their games. Yes, yes, my indulgent reader, but really ... where is their tolerance for people who just wish to listen and enjoy the experience? And then there was the...

Font of knowledge - on one of the aforementioned coach rides, the driver asked did we have any questions. I assume, uncharacteristically, she was met with glacial silence (hahaha, I am too funny). So, she proceeded to tell us that she was a font of knowledge just waiting to share. A question from an American traveller: what is that red plant that we see everywhere? She was referring to a red ground cover plant and it was, literally, everywhere. Silence. Um, I don't know it's name but it's a carpet plant. Really? Who would have thought? As they used to say in the early 2000s, epic fail.

Hotel facilities - generally when we travel we stay in AirBnB style accommodation, not hotels. The hotels we selected were all well appointed and generally belonged to the same chain. However, the Edmonton experience was different. Again, we had a suite. It had a sink, coffee making facilities, and fridge. So, when I went to open a bottle of our fine Okanagan wine I could locate neither glasses, nor cork screw. I know right, corks in wine bottles, what is that? Anyway, after an initial fruitless search, I embarked on a more meticulous one. Still nothing. I phoned reception and had the glasses and cork screw sent up. Jayne asked the question of the person delivering the goods, should they have been in the room. No. It was almost a Pauline Hanson please explain moment. A sink with no washing up requisites and a bar fridge without glass ware. I still don't get it.

Well, dear reader, you can assume the rest of the journey went well because I am posting from Van. The next time we communicate will be in January when we are travelling to the Cook Islands.

Until then ...

Still crying over you.

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.