Not much of a revelation when it’s winter, but why is it when you have to go somewhere in a hurry, the universe knows, and tries to throw everything at you so you don’t get there on time?
I like to be punctual.
I’m one of those people who leave home to get to the airport hours before I have to because I know, from past experience, that if you leave at the time where you’d make it with an hour to spare, you would get stuck in the mother of all traffic jams.
I know this to be true. It’s happened more than once to me,
If you’re not in a hurry, you get the best run you’ve ever had. I know that’s true too, because that’s what happens most times.
It’s like when at work you’re in a hurry to get a photocopy. The machine knows if you’re stressed and picks that particular moment to break down. That use to happen to me more times that I’d had hot dinners.
Sorry, I needed to use that expression, which generally means a lot. That photocopy machine, back in the days when they were huge and almost a new fad, my task every Tuesday was to copy a 3 page shipping report, 300 odd times. Not once did I get a clean run, not in the two years it was my job.
But…
Back to the weather.
My day to pick up one of the grandchildren from the railway station. It’s not far from our house, on any other day it would take about ten minutes, but since this is after 3 pm, I have the other school traffic to contend with, the tradies going home, and late afternoon shoppers getting dinner.
It never used to be like that. The road was a single lane that used to be blocked by floods when it rained, there was no shopping centre, and no new estates. In 30 years everything has arrived, the road expanded to two lanes either side, and almost continual traffic jams.
There’s a story there somewhere, but for the moment I have to take on the traffic. Maybe once I get to the station I might have time to consider it.
This morning started with a visit to the car rental place in Vancouver. It reinforced the notion that you can be given the address and still not find the place. It happened in Washington where it was hiding in the back of the main railway station, and it happened again in Vancouver when it was hidden inside a hotel.
We simply walked straight past it. Pity there wasn’t a sign to let people know.
However…
We went in expecting a Grand Jeep Cherokee and walked out with a Ford Flex, suitable for three people and four large suitcases. It actually seats 7, but forget the baggage, you’d be lucky to get two large suitcases in that configuration.
It is more than adequate for our requirements.
Things to note, it was delivered with just over a quarter of a tank of gas, and it had only done about 11,000 km, so it’s relatively new. It’s reasonably spacious, and when the extra seats are folded down, there is plenty of baggage space.
So far, so good.
We finally leave the hotel about half-past ten, and it is raining. It is a simple task to get on Highway 1, the TransCanada Highway, initially, and then onto Highway 5, the Coquihalla highway for the trip to Kamloops.
It rains all the way to the top of the mountain, progress hampered from time to time by water sprays from both vehicles and trucks. The rain is relentless. At the top of the mountain, the rain turns into snow and the road surface to slush. It’s 0 degrees, but being the afternoon, I was not expecting it to turn to ice very quickly.
On the other side of the mountain, closer to Kamloops, there was sleet, then rain, then nothing, the last 100kms or so, in reasonably dry conditions.
Outside Kamloops, and in the town itself, there was evidence of snow recently cleared, and slushy roads. Cars in various places were covered in snow, indicating the most recent falls had been the night before.
We’re staying at the Park Hotel, a heritage building, apparently built in the later 1920s. In the style of the time, it is a little like a rabbit warren with passages turning off in a number of directions, and showing it is spread across a number of different buildings.
It has the original Otis elevator that can take a maximum of four passengers, and a sign on the wall that says “no horseplay inside the elevator” which is a rather interesting expression that only someone of my vintage would understand. And, for those without a sense of humor, you definitely couldn’t fit a horse in it to play with.
The thing is, how do you find a balance between keeping the old world charm with modern day expectations. You can’t. Some hotels try valiantly to get that balance. Here, it is simply old world charm, which I guess we should be grateful for because sooner rather than later it’s going to disappear forever.
In my writer’s mind, given the importance of the railways, this was probably a thriving place for travelers and once upon a time, there were a lot more hotels like this one.
Not much of a revelation when it’s winter, but why is it when you have to go somewhere in a hurry, the universe knows, and tries to throw everything at you so you don’t get there on time?
I like to be punctual.
I’m one of those people who leave home to get to the airport hours before I have to because I know, from past experience, that if you leave at the time where you’d make it with an hour to spare, you would get stuck in the mother of all traffic jams.
I know this to be true. It’s happened more than once to me,
If you’re not in a hurry, you get the best run you’ve ever had. I know that’s true too, because that’s what happens most times.
It’s like when at work you’re in a hurry to get a photocopy. The machine knows if you’re stressed and picks that particular moment to break down. That use to happen to me more times that I’d had hot dinners.
Sorry, I needed to use that expression, which generally means a lot. That photocopy machine, back in the days when they were huge and almost a new fad, my task every Tuesday was to copy a 3 page shipping report, 300 odd times. Not once did I get a clean run, not in the two years it was my job.
But…
Back to the weather.
My day to pick up one of the grandchildren from the railway station. It’s not far from our house, on any other day it would take about ten minutes, but since this is after 3 pm, I have the other school traffic to contend with, the tradies going home, and late afternoon shoppers getting dinner.
It never used to be like that. The road was a single lane that used to be blocked by floods when it rained, there was no shopping centre, and no new estates. In 30 years everything has arrived, the road expanded to two lanes either side, and almost continual traffic jams.
There’s a story there somewhere, but for the moment I have to take on the traffic. Maybe once I get to the station I might have time to consider it.
Staying at Hampton Inn and Suites downtown, whatever that means because it looks like we are in the middle of nowhere.
But, judging by the crowd in the breakfast room, it’s a popular hotel. Of course, it is Sunday morning so this could be the weekend escape people.
Two things I remember about staying in Hampton Inns is firstly the waffles and whipped butter. It’s been five years but nothing has changed, they are as delicious as ever. The other, its where I discovered vanilla flavored milk for coffee, and it, too, is addictive.
They also used to have flat burgers that were made out of sausage meat which was delicious, but on the first day, they were not on the menu.
Nevertheless, it was still a very yummy breakfast.
After some research into where we might find this pixmi unicorn, it appears that it is available at a ‘toys are us’ store in one of the suburbs of Vancouver. So, resuming the quest, we took a taxi to West Broadway, the street the store is located.
A quick search of the store finds where the toys we’re looking for are, after asking one of the sales staff, and we find there are at least a dozen of them. Apparently, they are not as popular in Canada as the might be in America. Cheaper too, because the exchange rate for Canadian dollars is much better than for American dollars. Still, 70 dollars for a stuffed toy is a lot of money.
We also get some slime, stuff that our middle granddaughter seems to like playing with.
After shopping we set off down West Broadway, the way we had come, looking for a taxi to return us to the hotel. There’s no question of walking back to the hotel.
A few hours later we walk to the observation tower, which was not very far from the hotel,
a place where we could get a 360-degree view of the city of Vancouver although it was very difficult to see any of the old buildings because they were hidden by the newer buildings, nor could we see the distant mountains because of the haze.
After leaving the tower we walked down Water Street to see the steam clock and the old world charm of a cobbled street and old buildings
We stopped at the Spaghetti Factory Italian restaurant for dinner and is so popular that we have to wait, 10 minutes to start with. It doesn’t take all that long to order and have the food delivered to the table. Inside the restaurant, there is an actual cable car but we didn’t get to sit in it.
I have steak, rare, mushrooms, and spaghetti with marinara sauce. No, marinara doesn’t mean seafood sauce but a very tasty tomato-based sauce. The steak was absolutely delicious and extremely tender which made it more difficult to cut with a steak knife.
The write up for the marinara sauce is, ‘it tastes so fresh because it is made directly from vine-ripened tomatoes, not from concentrate, packed within 6 hours of harvest. We combine them with fresh, high-quality ingredients such as caramelised onions, roasted garlic and extra virgin olive oil’.
Oh, and did I mention they have a streetcar right there in the middle of the restaurant
I’m definitely going to try and make this when we get home.
After dinner, we return to the observation tower, the ticket allowing us to go back more than once, and see the sights at night time. I can’t say it was all that spectacular.
Another day has gone, we are heading home tomorrow.
We think of tropical Queensland having pristine white beaches and azure sparkling seas.
Not necessarily so.
This used to be a mangrove swamp.
Perhaps this is what happens when you mess with the natural environment, you’re left with something that’s not very nice.
There’s no beach, no sand, and sometimes not a very pleasant odor.
We can imagine what this might have looked like before man turned up to urbanize the area. In the background, there is an inlet and on either side lush vegetation.
It must have looked very inviting once upon a time. Now the shoreline is completely built on, the vegetation that was once there completely cleared, and the inlet leads to a marina.
Perhaps the story here might be about greedy destructive property developers who care not for anything but profits. But in their quest to destroy, there is always someone else aiding and abetting, someone in government.
But what if there was an even darker secret hiding just below the surface, and about to be uncovered. How far would someone go to preserve that secret?
It’s always a given that whatever city you stay in unless it’s overnight, you go on a tour and see the sights.
Even when you’re staying a short distance from the city, you may make the effort to catch a train or bus, then get on the hop on hop off tour. There’s always one in just about every city you visit.
Vancouver was no exception.
Except…
We arrived in the rain, went to sleep while the rain came down, woke up to the rain, and a heavy dose of jet lag or perhaps it was more that we had spent 24 and a half hours traveling from Brisbane to Vancouver via Shanghai.
We had an excellent view out the window of our room looking towards the shopping mall, and the steady falling rain.
I felt sorry watching the construction workers on the building site that was the main vista we had to look at.
It could have been worse. Endless mountains with snow on them.
What to do. Venture out in the rain and go on the tour, on pop over to the shopping mall and pick up a few boxing day bargains, no, sorry, boxing week bargains.
We have had some experience going on hop on hop off tours in open-top buses in the rain. And the last time was not a pleasant experience, even though we learned a valuable lesson, not to stand in front of a cannon and yell ‘fire’. Apparently, that’s how Admiral Nelson lost his arm.
But…
The shopping mall won.
We’d wait and see if the weather improved. Hang on, isn’t Vancouver near Seattle and doesn’t it rain 300 days of the year?
Not holding my breath.
I feel sorry for the construction workers again. Still raining, still cold, and still no reason to get out of bed.
Day 2 in Vancouver turned out to be the same as day 1.
Hang on, there’s a development.
We’re on the 16th floor and up at those lofty heights, we can see not only the rain but intermingled with it a few flakes of snow.
Whilst we procrastinate about what we’re going to do, the snowflakes increase into small flurries.
Yep, we’re off to the mall again and go for a walk in the snow.
On the way back we drop into the Boston Pizza, which has a sports bar and there you can sit, drink, eat, and watch the ice hockey, or whatever sort is going at the time.
Today it’s a junior ice hockey tournament, but Canada was not playing. Just the same, a long cold beer and ice hockey? How close to heaven is that?
I can now cross that off the bucket list.
Day 3, we’re going on a great rail journey, well, we are going to get the train to the city and collect the rental car, a car on the booking form that was supposedly a Jeep Grand Cherokee or similar.
Of course, ‘or similar’ are the words to be feared here because in truth the rental company can throw anything at you, so long as it matches the brief, three people and three large suitcases.
And, you guessed it…
The ‘or similar’ got us a Fort Flex.
Sounded like some place where exhausted soldiers were fending of the Indians in a last ditch battle.
Perhaps one or two too many American movies I think.
This morning we wake up to rain. Or so we thought. Taking a closer look out the window of our room on the 16th floor, we notice the rain is speckled with snowflakes. As the morning progressed the snow got harder until there were flurries.
Later we discover this is called wet snow by the local Vancouverians, and whilst they winge a lot over the endless rain, to them rain is infinitely better than snow.
To us, by the afternoon, it was almost blizzard conditions, with lots of snow. Then the only thing is that it does not accumulate on most of the ground so there are no drifts to play in.
Because the weather is so dismal we decided not to go into Vancouver to do some sightseeing because the clouds were down to the ground and then the snow set in.
Another interesting fact is that construction workers do not go off the job if it’s raining, or worse when it is snowing. Our room overlooks a new apartment complex under construction and the workers battled on through what seemed like appalling conditions.
At four in the afternoon, the Maple Leafs are playing the Ohio Blue Jackets, in Ohio. It is a game we expect they will win. Sparks is the goalkeeper, not Anderson, they’re playing back to back games and Anderson’s starting tomorrow.
They win, four goals to two.
Just before darkness falls, about four thirty, the snow stops and there is a little rain, which melts the snow.
Time to go up to the executive lounge to get some snacks and coffee, then sleep because the next day we’re taking on the Trans Canada highway from Vancouver to Kamloops.
The forecast is for snow, more snow, and just for a change, more snow.
I’ve been sitting at the desk staring at the screen thinking of what to write that might interest other people.
Seems I’m not too good at it.
So, I moved seats, to sit opposite the writer’s chair and took a good long hard look at the person, the so-called writer, conjuring up in my mind, if I was someone I’d just dragged in off the street, what would I ask?
Would I bother?
I mean most of of walk down the street trying to avoid everyone else, and anything bad that might happen.
But I’m here now, so for a free cup of tea and a Doubletree cookie, I consider myself bribed.
Question 1: Why on earth would you want to write when there’s a billion other books out there? Seems a complete waste of time to me.
[Answer] Good point, most days when I get out of bed, or rather stare at the ceiling from under the covers, I wonder why I bother to get up.
OK that’s the borderline manic depressive speaking, and most likely suffering from a hangover, trying to get those last 1,000 words for the day done.
Question 2: You write when you’re drunk? That must make a lot of sense, not!
This person has found me out in two questions.
[Answer] No, a little Scotch helps oil the wheels on the mind.
Question 3: What do you do for inspiration?
[Answer] Thinking up new and novel ways of killing off people I drag in off the street to ask me questions about myself. No, sorry, didn’t mean that. I haven’t a mean bone in my body. Inspiration you say?
Look around.
The inquisitor does. There are seven floor to ceiling bookcases full of my favorite authors, about 4,000 or so books, aside from the reference library that is mostly in e-book format which run to about 10,000.
Question 4: You read all of these?
[Picks up a copy of ‘Kill Me If You Can’ by James Patterson] This one.
I nod yes. I have read most of them. I tell him writers must read. Someone told me that a long time ago. Not only thrillers and crime, but the classics. I found War and Peace heavy going, but not so much as Madame Bovary, or Vanity Fair.
You can ask one more question.
Question 5: Can I borrow this book [James Patterson]
As always the answer is yes. I encourage people to read. It doesn’t have to be my work. It would be nice but I;m realistic enough to know there’s a billion other books out there I have to compete with.
It’s raining. There should be no surprise there. And cold. It’s late December and well into winter.
Perhaps not as cold as it could be, somewhere between three and four degrees.
We are staying at the Hilton Metrotown, at Burnaby. Metrotown is also the largest shopping mall in British Columbia. I agree that it is large and found it a great way to get some exercise after being in and off planes for the previous 24 hours.
The first discovery for the day was a trolley bus, something that I thought didn’t exist anymore.
The second was to discover so many global brands, but how different the products are to what we can get back in Australia. This is particularly so for cars where we discover that GM-based vehicles and Mazdas are so much better than what is available for us.
The third was to discover it seems we are almost in the heart of Chinatown, where going out an exit on the second floor takes you to a Chinese food court, with all manner of food types, and, it seems, tea bars. It also explained why, in one supermarket we went in, signs were in both Chinese and English.
Being still tired from the travel, we don’t venture further than the mall where we have lunch, for me, the Canadian version of KFC, which seems to defeat the purpose of trying local food. It seems most of the food that I can see in the food shops does not seem that appetizing.
Later we go out and find a Boston Pizza with a sports bar where we indulge in a 21 ounce Molton on tap, and a lime mojito, while watching the ice hockey on the big and surrounding small screens. The ice hockey is some world junior championship (but mostly north hemisphere hockey playing nations) and seems as ferocious as the NHL.
But it does raise a question, why isn’t there a female NHL? I guess this wasn’t the time to canvass opinions in the bar.
Something else we discover is that alcohol is relatively cheap, and get a case of Molten Canadian ale, Bacardi Black label, and maple flavored whiskey, for about a third of what it would cost at home. Of course, it must be cheaper than firewood in keeping Canadians warm in the dead of winter.
We didn’t try the pizza, which kind of defeated the purpose of going there.
Meanwhile back at the room, we find the local ice hockey channel, and then to make sure we get to see the Maple Leafs, plug in the computer so that we can test it. Good to go.
That’s tomorrow, tonight we watching the Vancouver Canucks.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 