A few words on victoria

So I'm spending an extra week in Victoria, officially house-sitting for the newlywed couple off on honeymoon, but more than that, I'm using the extra time to try to get under this city's skin. Partly because it seems to be a city full of wonderful contrasts and partly because I'm beginning to feel quite certain that when the pull from this country eventually grows strong enough to make me lift up roots and move across the pacific again, Victoria is no doubt where I will likely land.

Victoria has a great youth culture, contributed to predominately by the University of Victoria but also it seems by the swaths of 20 somethings from all over the island who migrate south in search of work and of nightlife that just can't be found in, say, Coombs. But Victoria's population also has the largest percentage of retirees in the country. Add to that the constant influx of tourists from all over the world and it becomes a city with a bit of something for everyone with an energy built on relaxation and recreation, in various forms.

Historically, Victoria was the lone British outpost that stopped the newly forming US from taking the wide strip of land that is now British Columbia. After Alaska was bought from the Russians, this particular chunk of Canadian West was sandwiched between two rather large slices of America. It was the settlement in Victoria that formed the base for a resistance that kept BC for the crown and then for Canada. That said, such close proximity to Washington State means that the number of (rather rotund) American tourists loping about downtown does make you wonder how successful the resistance was.

Today is seems that Victoria has a strong counter-culture, based in environmental conservation, a bit of cooperative communalism, and a general political left-wingedness. But this is balanced by the realities of a tourism-driven economy and the subsequent need to keep up appearances. The Empress Hotel, one of the icons of Victoria's Inner Harbour, is slowly sinking into the swamp on which it was built, but of course any suggestion that it should be demolished as the unsafe building it is becoming is met with fierce opposition.

I like Victoria and Victorians. They are a friendly lot, for the most part. And despite the pockets of crime and homelessness, I really could see myself living here at some point. Although, I think I'd better do it soon while I'm young or else I'll have a long wait till retirement.

On weddings and growing up

Weddings are funny things. I've heard people say that crying at a wedding is silly because it's a happy occasion. Of course it is. But there's something bittersweet in it too. Seeing my oldest friend Sara become a married woman yesterday gave me such a mix of emotions I'm not quite sure where to start. Time and distance has meant that Sara and I aren't quite as close as we once were, but when I saw a person who grew up with me and shared so many critical firsts take another momentous first, I felt it some small way like I was being left behind. At the same time, I felt honoured to just be there, sharing the event with her. I felt very much included.

So many contradictions, but at the end of the day, I'd never in all the years of firsts, lasts and other milestones seen Sara look quite as beautiful and quite as happy as she did yesterday. She had been tense and a bit anxious in the morning, but was soon as we stepped her into her dress, she was calm, graceful and full of purpose. She only became more so as the day went on.

I'd first known Sara when we were awkward 12 year olds, pretending and so wanting to be far more grown up than we were. Seeing her transform in that dress and seeing the incredible connection she has with Donal, I think she's got there.

A rant

Okay, so now I'm pissed off. And it's all because of my damn GPS. First it sends me and the maid of honour out into the wilderness instead of to the gardens where the wedding rehearsal is happening. We missed it entirely. Then, while my van is parked in a lot next to the pub where we are having a great rehearsal dinner, some inconsiderate asshole(s) break into it and take not only my GPS, which was to trustily lead me across the country, but also my goddamn glasses. The GPS I can understand. I has value after all, but my GLASSES?!? Come on! What use are they to anyone but me? Yes, my travel insurance will cover both, but the hassle is just infuriating. I'm at a definite low.

Late night ramblings on roots

A thought I had many times in preparing for this trip was that by returning to the places I grew up in and the people who've known me longest, I would gain some insight into where I came from. This would in turn give me some much needed direction on where I'm going next. to have had the opportunity to see my roots according to old friends has been a wonderful thing. They see the strength in me, the confidence, the drive. Some see that these things are weakened now but that they are still there. To know that they can still see and feel these characteristics in me that I've felt so devoid of has given me strength again. Has begun to restore some of my lost confidence and is making me want to be driven again.

I can feel the old Kate, the one they see and know, waking up. Stirring a little. Stretching stiff limbs and testing unused muscles. I want to warm her up. Open the curtains for her and let in a little of the sunshine Ian has left me with. I want her to come blinking back out into the day. I know she is the only one who can give me the strength and the courage to make it through these months and make me come out whole at the other end. She can give me a buzz and a high for life again. Can make me passionate again. Can strip away my accumulated layers of apathy. Can open my eyes again. She is the perfect drug.

Of eagles and friendship - Hornby Island

It's Thursday afternoon, day 4 of my retreat on Hornby Island. I came over to get a break from the bustle of Vancouver and Victoria and to spend some time alone, writing, reading and hiking. Hornby is one of the smaller gulf islands, tucked between Vancouver Island and the mainland, with a resident population of about 800. I have a feeling the people maybe slightly outnumbered by bald and golden eagles. There are almost as many of them as common gulls. They still leave me awestruck though.

Despite my best intentions, I've been writing far less than I had hoped. Today is the first sunny, warm day since I've been here and I spent the first few days weathering the rain and wind in my highly capable and comfortable van. I've needed the rest and solitude I think. For the first time in weeks my morning nausea has finally abated and I feel so truly and completely relaxed. The campsite I'm at is basic but has a beautiful view of the harbour. I've been waking to birdsong and not much else.

Ian has came over yesterday morning and it's been wonderful to reconnect properly with him. So incredible really that after a gap of almost 10 years, we've been able to pick up right where we left off. The time we've had together has been full of good conversation, laughter, and comfortable silences. It's also proved that my van can be a comfortable home for two. Good friendships that can weather the ravages of time and distance and still retain their lustre are rare and I am grateful to have rediscovered a few of them in the past week.

Slightly terrified

So I'm back on the island now. With my plan changes, I was now able to go to Sara's bachelorette party, with was a wonderful positive to come out of it all. A great night was had by all at a chalet on Mt Washington and despite the hangovers, I thoroughly enjoyed the inter-generational partying.

So now the plan is a little more nebulous. I'll spend tomorrow morning kitting out Clauss before heading up island again, this time with Hornby Island being my destination. I'm not entirely sure why I've chosen Hornby, but I feel like I need to spend a good few days in solitude and Hornby is a good enough place as any for this. I've gotten as far as booking a campsite but that's about it. The openness of it both excites me and terrifies me a little. How dependent on the company of others we become. I'm quietly afraid my own company won't be nearly enough to keep me going, but then I suppose that's part of the reason I'm taking this trip.

In search of coffee

So I finally managed to catch up with Lesley. I'd been terribly negligent by not calling her for almost a week after arriving in Vancouver. In my defense, I had been thinking I'd be in Los Angeles this weekend but when those plans fell through, I planned a dinner with Lesley. Lesley's been mostly staying with her boyfriend (an Australian of course) at his place in Yaletown so she suggested we meet there. Trekking back out to my brother's place in Coquitlam late at night after a few drinks would have been a bit tricky so I was invited to stay. Dinner was great. Good food and even better company at Yaletown Brewery. It was great to catch up with Lesley after so long and we had a good night. But the trip home through downtown in the early morning was just bliss.

With Lesley leaving early for work, I left the apartment a bit before 8am to beautiful sun glancing off the glass buildings. I love seeing a city when It's just waking up and because Vancouver's downtown has a mix of high rises and open public spaces, the sunlight actually made it to street level. I walked up Granville, stepping over puddles made the veritable army of street cleaners, pressure-hosing off the detritus left on the sidewalks from the night's homeless and clubbers.

After a late night, I was terribly keen for a good coffee and as much as I tried, couldn't find anything other than the ubiquitous and far below par Starbucks. Seriously. Have they actually licensed the entire downtown area? Aside from the occasional Blenz, the Canadian-own but barely better chain, there just don't seem to be any independent coffee shops left. I just don't remember it being this bad.

So coffee-less, I sat on the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery, across from UBC Place and watched the city go by for a while. Vancouver really does seem to be a young, active and very casual city. Men and women in suits are the exception, not the norm, in the downtown mid-week landscape. It gives the city a much more friendly feel. It takes away it's teeth.

And the Skytrain transfer at Commercial has a great free-trade coffee cart.

Changed plans and purgatory

My planned trip to Los Angeles to spend a week with my father and defrost a little hit a rather major snag today. Suffice to say, if I had held to my principles and not let shiny-ness and cultural brainwashing tempt me to the other side, I would have saved myself one motherload of anxiety, a wasted day, a 2-zone Translink pass and $75. A long story (to be told over drinks with a few close friends) short, I'm not now, nor will I ever be in the conceivable future, in Los Angeles.

Today's experience has left me with an even greater respect for my own instincts and a stronger desire to follow them more faithfully. But some good has come from the gloom. Now that I'm not going away, I'll be free to go to Sara's bachelorette party this Saturday (that's a Hen's night for my Aussie readers). I can't say more here as I've been sworn to secrecy but I'm really glad I can be there after all.

Aside from that, I'm a little at loose ends till the wedding festivities get underway on the 23rd. I enjoyed being on the island so much last weekend that I'm thinking about packing up Clauss and heading to Hornby Island (a small island off the coast of the main Vancouver Island, pop. 900, former hippie commune). There's some great beaches and hikes there and a meditation centre I can head to for a bit of zen. I need some zen right about now.

Strange to think I'm little over 1 week into my 4 month adventure. It feels like I've been here for an age already.

Island girl

Returning back from 2 days on the island in Victoria, I felt the tension and unease that I'd been carrying with me the past week in Vancouver slip away. I'd gone over to have a too-brief visit with Sara and Donal and to buy the van that will be my home-on-my-back for the summer. The van bought and tucked away in Sara's carport, I heading back on the ferry. The island is so much more home to me than Vancouver is. As an expat in Australia, I generally answer Vancouver to the questions of Where in Canada are you from? This has always been more out of convenience as few people have a clue where the Comox Valley is. This trip back has reinforced just how far off that statement really is. Vancouver isn't where I'm from. The Island really is. It's a different place with a different feel and energy to it. Victoria is a small city, by city standards, with only 400,000 or so people. It doesn't have the overwhelming feeling that Vancouver has, despite Vancouver being a very warm and welcoming city, as far as big cities go. I'm really looking forward to house-sitting for Sara and Donal in Victoria while they go on their honeymoon. I quite like the idea of slipping unnoticed into a local's life as I potter about for a week getting my newly purchased van kitted out for my coming adventures.

So I sat on deck on the ferry ride back to the mainland, watching the sometimes ramshackle, but increasingly beautiful cabins, balanced precariously on the coasts of fir-clad islands and peninsulas slip past. The evening sun was shining down and starting to dip low over craggy rocks and trees that came down steep hillsides to dip their toes in the pacific ocean. A few dolphins cut above the waterline and the tall dorsal fin of an orca whale broke the surface once along the way, much to the delight of those lucky enough to be looking in the right direction. Even the bob and sway of the big BC Ferry felt so familiar and comforting. I was calm, relaxed, happy and at peace as we docked in the Tssawassen harbour, the sun finally dropping below the shipping cranes that stood like giant blue herons along the shoreline. Oh I am very much an island girl.