Vancouver, British Columbia, CanadaSeptember 21, 2009
Day 5 of Pacific Northwest Journey
It’s time for the first real leg of our road trip. Vancouver is 141.19 miles northwest of Seattle. Almost all of it meant to be driven on the I-5. BUT! If you know me, you know I completely agree with Robert Frost and his whole poem about “taking the road less travelled!” Yes, my friend. Driving 141.19 miles north on one highway...is how shall I say? Boring!!!
About sixteen miles north of Seattle, the I-5 crosses the 525. I point excitedly toward the left and tell Travis to take that road.
This morning when I had explained to
everyone that I wanted to take a different route, I had told them it was all for the views! “Endless miles of asphalt can be mundane! We can see Whidbey Island, Deception Pass...”
They had shrugged; whatever I wanted. They hadn’t consulted a map. Mom had piped up, “How much longer will this take?”
“Ummm...” That’s the part I didn’t want to say. Whidbey Island had one major road through it - the 525 and there were no alternatives.
And we had to take a ferry to actually get to the island...
“It’ll be fun! We are on vacation!!” I beamed. “Ferries are fun!”
This is unlike any ferry I had ever been on. This ferry is luxurious. The upper deck is lined with rows and rows of giant red leather chairs. There is a complete cafeteria, gift shop, and amazing decks for viewing. This is too cool. We rush the front deck. The wind is whipping, freezing our noses, but the air is fresh and crisp. Our eyes drink in Whidbey, the surrounding mountains, the varying shades of blue in the water below - it’s heavenly.
Travis and Penny do a mock of the Titanic scene: “I’m king of the world!”
Suddenly the serene scene is infiltrated by a blistering sirene. My stomach lurches as I realize something. The boat is stopping. This giant vessel is slamming on its break in the middle of the channel. My frightened eyes scan, searching for the cause of the halt. What is wrong?
A gruffy male’s voice comes over the intercom, “We are now stopping for a government safety drill. Do not be alarmed!”
Deep breath. We aren’t dying. We aren’t going to actually end up like Titanic.
But, seriously?? A drill?
A frenzy is forming on the port side. We scuttle over to see what kind of drill is so necessary at nine in the morning. The men are arguing over who has to get in the life boat and be lowered down into the freezing water to circle the boat one full time. None of them are up to it this morning.
WOW!
I roll my eyes. Men.
Finally, after a woman comes over, orders two of them in the boat, lowers it, watches it circle, pulls it back up, the boat is back in motion and we pull up to shore and are ordered to disembark.
Welcome to Whidbey Island! and the 55mph speed limit behind ten other slow moving vehicles.
Travis huffs. He doesn’t like traffic...or low speed limits.
The views! Let’s remember the views.
We curve through the island, taking in the fields, the valleys, the quaint homes, the small towns. Finally we reach Deception Pass - the whole reason, I decided to take the island passage. Deception Pass is a beautiful viewpoint that sprawls between Whidbey Island and Fidalgo Island. It is actually a strait between the two, and the bridge overhead offers breathtaking views of the beaches below, the mountains beyond, and the Island ahead. Sail boats sail aimlessly below. Sea otters frolic close to the shore.
Moments like these, remind me how creative God is. The carving of the mountains, the colors of the water. Pure beauty. Pure wonder. Pure amazement in God. He left no detail untouched. Everything is beautifully and wonderfully designed. Mother pulls something out of her purse she bought at the gas station we stopped at just before coming up onto the bridge. Something pink catches my eye.
“Smoked salmon!” She smiles as she dangles it in front of us.
My stomach turns. I love fish. Love it! But not in the morning.
“It’s good.” She gleams at me.
Travis and Penny try it, and they reassure me. “Mmm...it is good. Try it.”
Reluctantly, I take a pinch. I close my eyes and...mmm....it is good. It doesn’t taste fishy. It’s fresh and it’s smoked and it’s a perfect snack over looking the strait. Divinity.
We arrive in Vancouver - a giant gathering of skyscrapers abutting the water - after passing swiftly through border control. Apparently the Canadians didn’t see us as a threat. Our hotel is unique. It’s not your typical holiday inn - which I am all for, but I enjoy a bit of character. I have booked us into a towering, wine-themed hotel perfectly warm with varying shades of burgundy, purple, and red. We ride up in the elevator to the ninth floor. The first thing, I do when mom and I are in the room is jerk the curtains back. I gasp. Gleaming white towers meet my eye. Welcome to the city.
I want to see a whale! The aquarium here features a pack of beluga whales, sea otters, dolphins, jellyfish, tropical fish, and parrots! I’ve always found aquariums to be rather peaceful. We meander, soaking up the colorful fish and enjoy the dolphin show. It’s a relaxant after being in the car.
Afterwards, we head to the infamous Stanley Park abutted next to the aquarium, for more strolling. It’s a lush escape squished between the high rise towers and the bay. Down the paths through Douglas Firs, Western Hemlocks, and Spruce Trees, we wander, breathing in the fresh air given off by these glorious trees. Something black scurries across our path, then scampers back. The squirrels are black here. Black with big bushy tails. I have the bright idea of chasing one down. It scampers into the underbrush. Another one appears, and then another. I am childlike in my discover of these black squirrels. In my twenty years, I have only seen brown ones. Another discovery to add to the books. I gasp, something tall and colorful catches my eye.
Totem Poles!
There is a grouping of them here. I browse over the plaques and quickly learn a bit about their history. Totem poles were erected by Indian tribes to celebrate special occasions. Birds, wolves, whales, tribesman are stacked all telling a story. Birds are the kings of the air, whales of the sea, wolves of the land. There’s more of course, always and forever more. But I have not time or space to detail.
What makes this park so special is the sea wall that circles it. This two level wall complete with bike paths and walkways is the divide between water and earth.
Naturally, we decide to take advantage of this structure. So we join joggers, mothers pushing strollers, families walking dogs along the 5.5 mile path. On our right is Stanley Park, on our left is the strait leading out to the sea, and on the other side of the strait - mountains towering overhead. It’s the best of all worlds. Behemoth cruise ships are heading out to sea. Merrily we wave back at them and listen as others wish them bon voyage. A tiny seaplane flies overhead. Vancouver is the launchpad to western Canada and beyond.
Giant. Green. Bridge. The Lion Gate’s Bridge reaches forth across the strait connecting the two sides of Vancouver. It’s too tempting to drive across. So we do, for no other reason than to have the sheer experience of doing so. And in doing it, we get stuck on the other side in the afternoon traffic rush. Hey...you live and learn. The wait gives us more time to admire the royal lions bookending the two bases. Regal and authoritative. The approaching dusk is forcing us to rush, but there are more neighborhoods in the city we have yet to glimpse that are vital to the Vancouver experience.
First is Chinatown. And Don’t be mad, but I have to say it. (I report honestly) To me, it is no different than any other Chinatown that I have experienced in big cities. Fresh fruit and vegetables, everything in chinese, take out booths everywhere, giant red gate. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen them all. Nevertheless, the madness of actually experiencing a Chinatown is essential to a traveler’s experience.
Next is Gastown, what some refer to as the birthplace of this city. This neighborhood exudes character and originality. Pubs, boutiques, and tourist bauble shops line the brick streets complete with flower boxes in the windows. The first steam powered clock is located here, and we, like good tourists that we are, join the frenzy for the photo op. Why not? It’s an original.
The beautiful clock is detailed with flowers. Dainty on the outside, but intense on the inside. Penny and I study the intricate detail through the glass and discover that the inside mechanics are run by a ball and weight system powered by the steam that drifts out from the top. I WANT one!! But sadly am not getting one. There’s no way to get it home.
Mother’s stomach has now got the best of her. She is ready for dinner. It’s been a long time since smoked salmon this morning. Don’t give me a hard time...I do feed my mom. I swear! But sometimes when there is much to see, food becomes a distant thought.
So for her brilliant patience, we decide to have a quintessential British Columbia experience - a brewery. Yes, I’m taking my mother to a brewery. Yaletown Brewing Company to be exact hailed for its good food and delicious in-house brews.
The legal drinking age in BC is 19. Convenient being I’m 20. I choose a Brick and Brew IPA - the original recipe having sailed over in oak barrels from India. For it’s accompaniment, fresh fish and chips. Both are delicious. The beer is crisp and bitter. I soak the fresh flaky cod and the crispy thick potatoes in vinegar and savor every bite. Travis, Penny, and mom all rave about the choice. The atmosphere is lively, the food is delicious, and the day has been a grand success. We joyfully toast to our first successful day in Canada. Vancouver is unique...although that word falls short tremendously for proper description. The views are divine - pure nature and yet the convenience and art of the city. Brilliant food. Excellent beer. Fine art scene. Lovely aquarium. Great shopping. It’s worth the trip up here.
I tell mom to sip more beer when she asks me what we are doing tomorrow.
“I booked us on a zip line,” I mumble over my glass.
“A zip line?! Can I do that?” She asks taking a necessitated slug.
“Of course you can, Richard Branson did.” I reassure her.
“Ohhhhhhhh...” She takes another bite of food and I think the bullet has been dodged.
“It isn’t too high is it? you know I hate heights.” She asks me laughing.
I pat her back, “you’ll be fine. drink up.” I smile and propose another toast.
I’ll tell her tomorrow that the zip line is only 200 feet up in the air...
No comments:
Post a Comment