Victoria

Judy. As if to illustrate my last post, we are in Victoria, on Vancouver Island, for one week.

Our last few days in North Van, we ate from the Friday Night Food Trucks at Lonsdale Quay, took a bus and hiked around the magnificent Lighthouse Park, had breakfast with Christl and Tom (a couple we met through Servas—remember, we had wine at their house?) did laundry, attended church at St. John’s—just had a lovely, quiet few days of living there, in our own, small way, being a part of the community.

On Monday we moved out and took a bus and ferry to Victoria, a beautiful city on Vancouver Island. Everyone told us how wonderful it is. But the first day, I would not have agreed with any of them!

We chose an Airbnb in Chinatown, right downtown. Our walk from the bus station involved walking through masses of tourists and homeless folks. It’s just a fifteen-minute walk to the apartment, which is located on Theatre Alley (which we didn’t know when we booked it, but seemed highly appropriate), but navigating the crowds was rough.

We had come from a lovely little apartment on the back of Peggy’s home to a mass-produced apartment block located behind old buildings. It was hot, and of course there’s no air conditioning, but there’s also no cross-ventilation, just a small balcony at the back of the long, skinny room. Bedroom is a windowless alcove. And it’s very much a bachelor pad—the owner lives here when he doesn’t rent it out, and the guy doesn’t cook much (few pots and pans or dishes), and uses beer steins for coffee mugs. Furthermore, there’s a family with kids above us who stomp on the wood floors. We were both a bit shocked. We located a market and were stunned to pay $5 for a baguette, $10 for a small block of cheese, and $5 for a container of yogurt. A walk along the wharf in the evening calmed us down a bit, but we were afraid we’d made a big mistake.

HOWEVER—on our second day, after a good night’s rest, we headed off to explore the city. We walked through Beacon Hill Park—a beautiful urban park with a variety of landscapes, some incredible gardens, and the world’s largest totem pole. (While that last was rather touristy, it was neat to see.) 

We headed to the Dallas Trail, which runs by the water and noticed several boats flying toward a specific area—ORCAS! If you want to see whales, look for the boats. Sure enough, about a quarter mile offshore, three Orcas made their way along the water. We stood with several locals and watched in awe. So much more fun to just see them than to pay $125 each to ride the boat—and we’ve done that, too.

Walking back toward town, we went through a quiet neighborhood and had lunch at a Greek restaurant. The retsina went down well. Then we located a real grocery store and stocked up for the week at a reasonable price. Back at the apartment, we had a nap and felt better about the whole darned thing!

The neighborhood is funky and a bit tacky—the seediness of it gives way to gentrification, so you have trendy coffee shops and upscale clothing stores next to Chinese vegetable stalls and gift shops. At night the place lights up like a Christmas tree and is delightful. The weather has cooled, and the apartment (except for the noisy neighbors), is comfortable enough. Fact is, we had a VERY noisy neighbor in Atlanta.

The Royal British Columbia Museum was another pleasant surprise. In addition to First Nations exhibits and exhibits of early white settlers, there is a section honoring Terry Fox, the man who lost his leg to cancer, then chose to run a marathon across Canada to raise money for cancer research. He died before it was complete, but others took up the cause and finished the run, raising more than a dollar for each citizen of the country.

My favorite, though, is the exhibit on the family. There were several families represented: First Nations, as well as immigrants who came from all over the world. There were photographs and home movies on display, and listening stations where people told stories about traditions, foods, and staying in touch. The docent asked if I wanted to record a story to be played, so I talked about how grateful we are for Skype and Face Time and Hangouts so that we can keep up with all those we love, and watch our grandsons grow, not to mention help them remember us!

There’s a lot to do here, and we feel some pressure to see everything, but are holding ourselves back. We need to rest and do daily chores, and, frankly, can’t afford to do it all. So yesterday Ted did his workout and studied Spanish while I took the bus to pick up some needed supplies. There’s something about navigating local transportation that helps you feel at home.

There’s a Fringe Festival going on, and it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to see theatre. We’ve not been to a fringe festival since 1977 on our honeymoon trip backpacking Europe and stumbled on the Edinburgh Festival. Fringe shows are quirky and cheap, so we’ve attended a couple, some good, some bad. Standing in line, we get into conversations with locals and tourists about what they’ve seen and liked.

For Labor Day weekend there is a Classic Boat Festival—gorgeous wooden creations, lovingly restored, and a Blues Bash—one can pay and sit or dance in the sun by the stage, or sit in the shade in the grass. Lots to see!   

We’ve discovered Canadian artist and writer Emily Carr, and visited her home. We’d never heard of her—she’s a contemporary of Georgia O’Keefe and Frida Kahlo, though with a different style, reminiscent of Van Gogh. Evidently her work made it to the Musee D’Orsay in Paris. I like it!

And we went to Butchart Gardens. Yes, we followed the crowd. After checking around, we found that we didn’t need to take the tour bus there (to the tune of $26 + entrance fee), but could get a $5 day pass on the local bus system, which got us there before the mobs arrived. Take note, Traveler! It is truly as magnificent as we’d been told, though taking photos seemed ridiculous—like taking photos of the Grand Canyon. It’s imprinted in my mind, instead. Google it if you want pictures. I will say, though, that the gardens at Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver rival much of it. And they’re free. Reader, you may do either, or both. But do one. You’ll be glad.

There seems to be a large homeless population here, camped in doorways and in the park, sometimes playing instruments badly for spare change. And we are stunned by the number of folks in wheelchairs, scooters, and with walkers or canes. Don’t know if they’re waiting for elective surgery or just what. It’s just surprising.

Evenings, we watch news of Houston and the Texas areas affected by Harvey. It’s so painful to watch the struggles, but our hearts are lifted by the kindnesses we see every day. That, as they say, is America. That is my country. Whoever you are, if you’re in trouble, someone will help. It has restored much of my faith in my fellow humans. I hope once the crisis is over, we’ll remember and continue to care for each other.