On the 23rd of Feb, I had to move on to my next destination. Fortunately, I didn't have to be anywhere during the day, but the unfortunate part was that my accommodation was quite far away, and I had an ice-hockey match to go to at 9pm in Vancouver.
On checkout from the bed-and breakfast, I packed up and brought my bags downstairs. I had a chat with Ron (I think that's his name), and he brought out the bill for the accommodation. I was a bit startled by this, because I thought I had payed the accommodation in advance. At least, I had tried to be paying all of the accommodation in advance from the UK so I didn't have to worry about it while I was here. I then poked around in my emails at the guest computer, and couldn't find any evidence of having asked them to take the payment early. I had given them my credit card number, though. They explained that it was taken to safeguard the booking, but that the payment isn't taken until afterwards when you are checking out. It was one cost I didn't really expect to have, especially one I didn't really want when I'd already lost my card.
I set out into a bustling city, with my wheeled bag that had a mind of its own. I eventually realised that the thing needed to be stood upright and pushed so all 4 wheels were in contact with the ground, otherwise it would bounce from wheel to wheel and eventually topple over. What a nuisance when you've got places to get to. The nightmare scenario that kept playing through my mind over and over again was that the wheels would be ripped from the bottom of the bag, and that I'd have to carry the thing alongside my already hefty backpack.
So my next destination was Stonehaven Bed and Breakfast in Deep Cove. I left the West End guest house around lunch time, and I walked to Waterfront Station. I decided to take the Seabus. I wasn't really sure what to expect from the seabus but I had seen pictures of it before. It literally is what it says - just a huge flat boat with rows of seats inside, and posts for people who are standing to hold onto. It pulls up into a dock that is just wide enough for the boat to fit in width-wise, and eventually it stops after bouncing off the inner wall a couple of times, oscillating to a stop against a huge rubber damper. When it has stopped, the doors into the boat are lined up perfectly with the doors in the station. The doors on the aft-side of the boat open first to let all of the people off the boat, then the fore doors open and we all pile inside. It's a nice ride across the inlet with views of the mountains, the vast shipping docks, the bridge and some other oddities like a huge pile of sulphur (presumably a waste by-product of some form of oil distillation process) waiting to be taken away.
On arrival at Lonsdale quay, you come off the boat and you are more or less inside the bus terminal. [For anyone who may be travelling and want to get to Deep Cove: the easiest way to get to Deep Cove is to take a 239 bus to Phibbs Exchange, and then take a 212 to Deep Cove, where the bus terminates before heading back in the opposite direction]. At the Quay, though, there are places to shop for touristy goods, get food and have a coffee. There's also fast food. It was a good place as far as bus-stationey areas go, and probably more so in summer when the place is busy.
The journey to Deep Cove was fairly painless, and when I got there it was as rainy as it was when I'd left the city. Deep Cove itself sits on a corner of the Indian Arm inlet, and looks to be the kind of place that is sleepy at this time of year, but probably bustling with Gin-Palace pilots out for a stroll on dry-land in summer. On this occassion, though, I wasn't getting anywhere looking around for Stonehaven B&B in the immediate vicinity, so I went into what turned out to be a childrens clothes shop to ask for help. The lady was really nice, and she looked up on google maps where I wanted to go. It turns out that I needed to be over 2km away up a steep-steep hill and down the other side. She rang a taxi, and I cursed myself for not printing out the page on the Stonehaven website that gave details of how to get their place. I spent 6 months planning, only to leave the most important information at home.
I went and stood for the taxi, and when it arrived the taxi driver was clearly sizing up the size of the fare he was going to make today: with my bags, I had "airport fare" written all over me. Given how far we were from YVR, I'd would have been rubbing my hands too. I put my bags into his boot, and I told him where I was going. He typed it into his GPS, and simultaneously wrote the word "loser" across his brow. "Do you know how far I drove to get here. And I'm just taking you two kilometers". I apologised to him, but I didn't really feel that sorry. He's going to break even on this trip - otherwise it's his fault for accepting the job. Maybe taxi firms should ask where people are travelling to?
Stonehaven is a beautiful house overlooking Indian Arm. Ted and Cheri were very friendly and welcoming, and Cheri even made me a Sandwich for dinner, obviously detecting that I'd had a hard trip. This was the first time that someone made me a meal on arrival, and the bonus is that they didn't charge me for it. I arrived around 4pm, which is when I'd planned to arrive there 6 months beforehand - not bad planning, if I do say so myself, after the slight hiccup in my arrival. The room was nice and fresh, everything modern and the bathroom was awesome, with black slate tiles everywhere and a great shower enclosure. The bed was high and comfy, and the room - although it couldn't be locked while you were out - did have a privacy lock for when you are inside. I think the likelihood of theft here is minimal, and I'd trust Ted and Cheri 100%, but you can never tell.
I sat and ate the sandwich in the common area for guests, which had a large flat screen TV upon which I watched the ice hockey (I think it was Canada and another team). The sandwich was toasted, with ham, cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce with some spread, and it was just what I needed. There were also the now-standard-but-always-welcome fresh baked cookies - chocolate chip - sitting on a metal platter by the fridge, which was full of beers and other drinks to have whenever I wanted to. All good stuff. There was also a coffee machine, but this wasn't warmed up and I didn't really have time to use it.
By 7pm, I was out of there. Now used to the journey on the busses and sea bus into the city, I actually found a bus that went straight into the city center without stopping from Deep Cove (but I can't remember the number). I learned on the return journey that to get to Stonehaven, I had to get off the bus at the junction of Deep Cove Road and Strathcona, and walk down Strathcona etc (again - sorry for giving in-universe information).
The Ice hockey was manic - they put you into a holding pen outside the stadium and underneath the skytrain tracks. We waited for about half an hour until eventually they opened the gates. On my way to get through security to join this line, I passed a badge salesman being attacked by some possibly drunken guy who was obviously jealous about some perceived interaction the badge seller had made towards what might have been the attackers girlfriend. It was a bit pathetic, and was the only sign of trouble I saw while in Vancouver for the whole time. A few punches were landed, then the police were there to break it up. The two guys were foreign, and maybe they knew eachother.
Anyway, the hockey game was a Mens match - Slovakia vs. Norway. A little known fact to at least myself is that a lot of the Slovak players play in the Canadian NHL, and there were various players names read out that were met with huge cheers - no idea what went on there.
The game got underway, and within 5 minutes a Slovakian player had been knocked unconscious on the ice. Play was stopped, and the medical team came onto the ice. They stretchered him away, they shovelled something off the ice, and then play resumed.
It quickly became apparent that Slovakia were the better side, although Norway made a valiant effort and the game closed out with Slovakia snatching victory 4-3. Except that I wasn't there to see it. 5 minutes before the end of play, the score was 3-3. I ducked out early to avoid the line-ups so that I could guarantee getting to the train and seabus without having to fight the crowds. It worked, because the station was empty, although I could hear waves of people following up behind me.
I had to hang around Lonsdale quay for 20 minutes waiting for a bus. It was strange how safe I felt in the bus-station, in-spite of the late hour and location. I got back to Stonehaven around close to 1am at night. I can't remember sleeping there, but when I woke up the next day I was getting one day closer to having nowhere to stay on the 25th....
This is a warts-and-all account of my trip to the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Winter Games.
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Returning to the party
The journey back to the mainland saw a glimmer of good news come to me via my international phone card while on the ferry to Tsawwassen. My share grant that had appeared to be mistakenly requested to be posted to me by cheque actually had been sent to my account electronically as actually requested - obviously there was an error in the recorded form of the request. I now had proper cash funds again, and no longer had to rely on using the annoying replacement Mastercard. This was good news, for there were many more activities for the week ahead.
There was a clear morning, transitioning to a part cloudy afternoon for my journey across the straight, and instead of staying in the Seawest lounge, I spent what time there was left of the journey resting in front of the olympics on TV.
My whole day concentrated on getting to the WestEnd Guest House. I actually found it really hard to find, because Haro street is not just off Burrard, where the tourist map had show it to be. I walked up and down and got as far as Nelson street before turning back and asking one of the amazing Volunteers who were taking a break with a coffee. He said he wasn't sure, but he soon got out his iPhone and looked it up on the map. We were sitting just 1 block away, and I actually had to go up Smithe St. before it merged and became Haro St.
I was quickly finding that the bag I had purchased needs to be wheeled in an upright position, making it hard to push by the vertical handle especially on the block pavements. It seemed like a long walk, only because I wasn't sure how far I had to go. When I got there, I wasn't disappointed - the front was well kept, and the building seemed large and spacious, even though it was sandwiched in between imposing apartment blocks. I rang the doorbell, and Evan came to the door and met me. The building looked imacculately kept, and was fitted luxuriously. Large comfy furniture, a beautiful dining table to seat 10, and period fittings here and there. A small kitchenette stocked with all the teas and coffee you could want, and openly available snacks are dotted around, including an almond slice cake kept under a heavy glass cloche on a raised cake plate. I was slightly disappointed that the fridge didn't contain milk for making tea, but I was happy to use the cream that was there. I'm sure I would have had milk available if I had asked. The really nice touch was the golden brass sink in the corner. It would take real dedication to keep such a lovely item in the tip-top condition that it was in before me. This was a nice place!
The room was well kept, and had a huge comfy bed - part memory foam, though, which isn't my favourite thing in the world - is the centerpiece, with some of the nicest sheets I've seen. A nice touch was a little dog sitting on the end of the bed. The bathroom has a nice painting of the "lost houses of the West End", in sepia colours, recalling a day long gone. There was a small chocolate cake on a china plate waiting to be nibbled by me, and a card to me (by my first name) welcoming me to the West End guest house. There were nice soaps in the bathroom, and there was even a lint roller - excellent, because I had been lamenting the lack of one in my packing.
I had this day free, and intended to use it soaking up some of the atmosphere in the city. I got a few email chores out of the way on the guest computer, and then had a shower before going out.
The feeling while walking around the city was one that I had longed for while staying on Vancouver island. Everywhere has its charm, but the life in this city is infectious. It is something that I fear is unique only during the presence of the olympics, and only in this city at this one time in history. I felt this ephemera in my bones, but it is thankfully an ephemeral phenomenon that at least lasts more than 1 day. But once the olympics are over, and I depart this city, I fear a feeling of mourning awaits me. Time will tell, I guess, and the only way to see if this feeling is able to exist anywhere else, or if this level of hospitality and friendliness is a uniquely Canadian thing, will be evident during the 2012 Olympics back on my other home turf in the UK, in London.
But the olympic spirit - possibly this Canadian olympic spirit - is something you don't get to capture more than once in a lifetime. I just wonder what impact it will have on the host nation, and Vancouver in particular, once the dust has settled and the olympics have been and gone. I heard tales on Canada uniting and forming a strong sense of national identity - not at first, but gradually as the torch relay passed from one community to another. People felt that their nation had been changed by it, proudly doing things in the typical largesse that Canada is so good at. The torch relay was the longest on any host-nation turf, and involved more torch bearers from the host-nation than at any other games. The torch was designed by Bombardier, a Canadian company, and each torch bearer got to keep their torch as a souvenir. What an incredible journey through an incredible country.
And this was rubbing off on me, at least - so happy to be here, so dreading when it ends. I looked at the positives, though - I was here, now, in the thick of it, and there were things to do.
I decided to make a trip to the olympic superstore to actually get a good look around. I'll just say I spent nearly an hour and a half there, and didn't really come out with a lot. The streets outside were calling, and the only thing to really do out there was walk around - shows how uninspiring shopping indoors can be. I spent hours watching people, and marvelling at the sea of Team Canada merchandise being worn by everyone from all over the world. Was the Canadian Olympic spirit running in everyones veins? Was this feeling even running through the athletes of the host Nation? Surely this would break an olympic record somehow?
Go Canada, Go! It was everywhere - in office windows, on the glowing sign at the front and side of every single bus in the city, on every piece of advertising for every conceivable product. Do other countries athletes feel good about all of this, or are they all sheltered away from Canada, huddling down in the cotchels of the olympic village?
If there's one thing that coming here has done to me, it is to set me on a quest to see if this feeling is an olympic feeling, or if this feeling is a gladness to be home in my country, or if it is a combination of the two. London 2012 is the next opportunity, and it is right on my doorstep. An olympics blowout it is not - but it will be a valid comparison of a similar event held by two fairly similar nations.
That night, I went into the Scotiabank Theater on a whim. With no watch on, I did not know the time. I saw that they had avatar on in 3D, and - it beeing around 10:40pm - I had 5 minutes to catch it if I wanted to. It would end at around 01:15am, but my bed was literally up the street. I loved the 3D effects of the movie, but found the length of the movie, and its repetitive nature, to be tiresome. After trapsing the streets of vancouver, I was almost asleep in the movie, which is a first for me. I did keep awake for all of it, but felt unsatisfied by the ending. In all, a triumph for technology but an also-ran of a movie.
When I returned back, I was greeted by a plateful of cookies that Evan had obviously made earlier. They were dleicious and gooey, and had been left on a metal plate on a pedestal for guests to snack on at our leisure. They were a welcome treat, even given the time of night and the fact that I was about to sleep. I even borrowed a copy of an Absolutely Fabulous DVD to watch in my room to send me to sleep - not really a statement about ab-fab, and more to do with wanting something to concentrate on that would help me take my mind off the buzz in my head.
There was a clear morning, transitioning to a part cloudy afternoon for my journey across the straight, and instead of staying in the Seawest lounge, I spent what time there was left of the journey resting in front of the olympics on TV.
My whole day concentrated on getting to the WestEnd Guest House. I actually found it really hard to find, because Haro street is not just off Burrard, where the tourist map had show it to be. I walked up and down and got as far as Nelson street before turning back and asking one of the amazing Volunteers who were taking a break with a coffee. He said he wasn't sure, but he soon got out his iPhone and looked it up on the map. We were sitting just 1 block away, and I actually had to go up Smithe St. before it merged and became Haro St.
I was quickly finding that the bag I had purchased needs to be wheeled in an upright position, making it hard to push by the vertical handle especially on the block pavements. It seemed like a long walk, only because I wasn't sure how far I had to go. When I got there, I wasn't disappointed - the front was well kept, and the building seemed large and spacious, even though it was sandwiched in between imposing apartment blocks. I rang the doorbell, and Evan came to the door and met me. The building looked imacculately kept, and was fitted luxuriously. Large comfy furniture, a beautiful dining table to seat 10, and period fittings here and there. A small kitchenette stocked with all the teas and coffee you could want, and openly available snacks are dotted around, including an almond slice cake kept under a heavy glass cloche on a raised cake plate. I was slightly disappointed that the fridge didn't contain milk for making tea, but I was happy to use the cream that was there. I'm sure I would have had milk available if I had asked. The really nice touch was the golden brass sink in the corner. It would take real dedication to keep such a lovely item in the tip-top condition that it was in before me. This was a nice place!
The room was well kept, and had a huge comfy bed - part memory foam, though, which isn't my favourite thing in the world - is the centerpiece, with some of the nicest sheets I've seen. A nice touch was a little dog sitting on the end of the bed. The bathroom has a nice painting of the "lost houses of the West End", in sepia colours, recalling a day long gone. There was a small chocolate cake on a china plate waiting to be nibbled by me, and a card to me (by my first name) welcoming me to the West End guest house. There were nice soaps in the bathroom, and there was even a lint roller - excellent, because I had been lamenting the lack of one in my packing.
I had this day free, and intended to use it soaking up some of the atmosphere in the city. I got a few email chores out of the way on the guest computer, and then had a shower before going out.
The feeling while walking around the city was one that I had longed for while staying on Vancouver island. Everywhere has its charm, but the life in this city is infectious. It is something that I fear is unique only during the presence of the olympics, and only in this city at this one time in history. I felt this ephemera in my bones, but it is thankfully an ephemeral phenomenon that at least lasts more than 1 day. But once the olympics are over, and I depart this city, I fear a feeling of mourning awaits me. Time will tell, I guess, and the only way to see if this feeling is able to exist anywhere else, or if this level of hospitality and friendliness is a uniquely Canadian thing, will be evident during the 2012 Olympics back on my other home turf in the UK, in London.
But the olympic spirit - possibly this Canadian olympic spirit - is something you don't get to capture more than once in a lifetime. I just wonder what impact it will have on the host nation, and Vancouver in particular, once the dust has settled and the olympics have been and gone. I heard tales on Canada uniting and forming a strong sense of national identity - not at first, but gradually as the torch relay passed from one community to another. People felt that their nation had been changed by it, proudly doing things in the typical largesse that Canada is so good at. The torch relay was the longest on any host-nation turf, and involved more torch bearers from the host-nation than at any other games. The torch was designed by Bombardier, a Canadian company, and each torch bearer got to keep their torch as a souvenir. What an incredible journey through an incredible country.
And this was rubbing off on me, at least - so happy to be here, so dreading when it ends. I looked at the positives, though - I was here, now, in the thick of it, and there were things to do.
I decided to make a trip to the olympic superstore to actually get a good look around. I'll just say I spent nearly an hour and a half there, and didn't really come out with a lot. The streets outside were calling, and the only thing to really do out there was walk around - shows how uninspiring shopping indoors can be. I spent hours watching people, and marvelling at the sea of Team Canada merchandise being worn by everyone from all over the world. Was the Canadian Olympic spirit running in everyones veins? Was this feeling even running through the athletes of the host Nation? Surely this would break an olympic record somehow?
Go Canada, Go! It was everywhere - in office windows, on the glowing sign at the front and side of every single bus in the city, on every piece of advertising for every conceivable product. Do other countries athletes feel good about all of this, or are they all sheltered away from Canada, huddling down in the cotchels of the olympic village?
If there's one thing that coming here has done to me, it is to set me on a quest to see if this feeling is an olympic feeling, or if this feeling is a gladness to be home in my country, or if it is a combination of the two. London 2012 is the next opportunity, and it is right on my doorstep. An olympics blowout it is not - but it will be a valid comparison of a similar event held by two fairly similar nations.
That night, I went into the Scotiabank Theater on a whim. With no watch on, I did not know the time. I saw that they had avatar on in 3D, and - it beeing around 10:40pm - I had 5 minutes to catch it if I wanted to. It would end at around 01:15am, but my bed was literally up the street. I loved the 3D effects of the movie, but found the length of the movie, and its repetitive nature, to be tiresome. After trapsing the streets of vancouver, I was almost asleep in the movie, which is a first for me. I did keep awake for all of it, but felt unsatisfied by the ending. In all, a triumph for technology but an also-ran of a movie.
When I returned back, I was greeted by a plateful of cookies that Evan had obviously made earlier. They were dleicious and gooey, and had been left on a metal plate on a pedestal for guests to snack on at our leisure. They were a welcome treat, even given the time of night and the fact that I was about to sleep. I even borrowed a copy of an Absolutely Fabulous DVD to watch in my room to send me to sleep - not really a statement about ab-fab, and more to do with wanting something to concentrate on that would help me take my mind off the buzz in my head.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
17th to 21st - Curling, Victoria, crab and butchart gardens
On the 17th, I had a delicious breakfast at the Moka House up the ramp from where the boat was. I felt pretty tired, and had another long journey ahead of me back to the mainland for another day of curling. Well, not really a whole day of curling, but the day was essentially devoted to the curling. I would have to leave on the 11am ferry to maike it to the game on time, and I started to get into a routine whenever I had to go somewhere. Make sure I've got my camera, and that it is charged :p . Make sure I have tickets, make sure I've got my wallet.
It didn't help that I was waiting for my credit card replacement to show up at Dennett and judy's. They had been calling every few hours while I was out yesterday, and thankfully on this morning they had caught me to confirm that we would be around to sign for the card. Mastercard were insisting that UPS would need a signature, so we would see once the day had panned out. I was living on borrowed time if that card didn't show.
After breakfast and some morning curling watching on the computer, we headed out to the ferry. The usual carbon-copy ferry crossing occurred - Sea West lounge seat, coffee, cake, leather recliner....
When I got to the Tsawassen Ferry terminal things seemed a little better organised at this time of the day. There was actually an express 620 bus to take me straight to Bridgeport Canada Line station waiting - one of several. I just showed my Olympics ticket and got on. It was quite a nice feeling - this one ticket seemed to get you some respect from people, and a nod from the driver. People who didn't have tickets were always interested in talking about what you'd be seeing, and how they had tried to get tickets and failed, or how they had wished they had tried in the first place. In spite of the obvious burden that an olympics puts onto the host city, everyone seemed to be very warm to it now that it was finally happening.
When I got to King Edward station, I knew not to follow the ridiculous instructions being given by the volunteers to send people all the way down to Manitoba street, and instead chose to walk up the hill to the top of the park and maybe spend the time I had before the match - about an hour - looking around perhaps at the Bloedel conservatory. When I got there, the heat in the bubble was overwhelming and I instead chose to surf the gift shop and take in the powerful fountain outside. I finished up in the gift shop and noticed that it was already 14:05 - the match will have started already, but I wasn't panicked. I made my way to the venue and got in quickly - so much for the security yet again. I did have a pat down this time, but it was utterly pointless - people too polite to even ruffle your jacket. I'd had the same thing twice before now, and found it fairly laughable. Time will tell if I get a more thorough pat down at any of the other events.
This match was a mixture, but no Canadians. I was instead taking an interest in the GB match. There were times when the men's GB team would pull off the right looking shots, but then either get the weight wrong or not provide the curl. This happened in enough cases to make the game seem tight at the beginning, but the brits - who were playing France - won out in the end 9-4. It was strange watching the british match, because Canada aren't playing and as such support for anything generally seemed muted. It was a shame, because of all the places the crowd might support, it would either be the UK or the US.
The curling exited at around 5:15, and I pretty much had to go straight back to the island in order to make sure I didn't get back at an irritatingly late time for Dennett to pick me up. As it stood, I'd likely be back late so when I got to King Edward station and saw the lineup, I decided to get some dinner to give the line up time to quieten down.
So I had dinner by going to Flying Wedge, which is a pizza chain in the City. I found the place reassuringly well laid out, with a huge fridge behind the counter labelled "Food Rotation FIFO". This meant that they had structured the shelves in the fridge so that you could only take the pre-prepared base out of it that had been made the longest ago. I like places that manage their food well. The deal here is you can buy wedges of pizza for around $5 individually, about $9 for two and they had other deals. There is good selection - I went for the Pepperoni, and I was not disappionted at all. The tomato sauce on these pizzas was amongst the best I have tasted in a long time - lots of herbs coming through, and yet a sweet and dark tomatoey flavour to boot. The cheese was a 4 cheese mix, and the pepperoni was absolutely huge slices, and properly meaty yet fall apart. I'd rate the Flying Wedge an 8/10 on Cambie street.
I returned slowly to the station with my pizza, eating it along the way and no doubt making many other people want pizza too.
I got to the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal after 7:30pm, and as such I had to wait for the 9pm ferry. Not the most fun I've ever had. But everywhere I've been on Vancouver's transit system left me feeling safe. I never once felt the irking I sometimes get on say the London tube or on the bus network out here in rural Cambridgeshire. Maybe it is because everyone in at least Vancouver seems to talk to each other ad-infinitum and as such everyone feels more at ease with where they are.... One thing I don't recommend though is buying any of the drinks from the hot drinks machine at the Tsawwassen end of the ferry to Schwartz Bay. It costs $2 and tasted - at least while I was there - as though the machine had a constipation problem in the tube that dispenses the flavouring powder. I can't confirm if this always happens, because I never bought it again.
I got back, and found that UPS had delivered my card. It turned out that they didn't even wait for a signature and had just dumped it on the drawbridge of the house boat. So much for the truly ridiculous pronouncement by mastercard that the thing had to be delivered and signed for.
The next day (18th), we had tickets for the IMAX and went to see a film about the evolution of Cowboys around the world, and then we saw a film about the wildlife in the Serengeti. The IMAX is buried inside the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, which is about 15 minutes walk from Fishermen's Wharf. Also inside the Museum is a very good gift shop, although their prices were typically touristy. They had aboriginal art of various flavours, books on presumably exhibit material and the obligatory Vancouver 2010 Olympics merchandise, which I love to browse through. It really is great way to make money for the support of the Olympics, because everyone wants to take home a piece of memorabilia or the odd souvenir of their trip to remind them of the great time they had while there. For me this was no exception, although my fascination quickly became pins. They had venue pins, mascot pins, landmark pins, sport pins, cultural pins etc. It turns out that there is a huge industry in trading Olympics pins, and people come from all over the world just to collect them and go to places like The Bay to the pin trading market. I won't be participating in this hobby! But I did buy pins that reminded me of my trip - one for each of the sports I watched, one of an umbrella to remind me of the rain, and some from my trips to places, and of course of the mascots.
We wlaked back to the boat in the dark after the IMAX and had food from the excellent Grilligans takeaway at Fishermen's wharf. Come rain or shine, Dave - the proprietor of Grilligans - sells well considered, delicious food. In the time I was there, I had: a turkey salad pita (delicious, with thick layers of turkey, fresh salad, mayonnaise and all was tasty and fresh); His poutine (a classicly French Canadian dish of fries, special gravy and cheese curds. His fries are crispy, and cooked in a special fryer designed to do fries. The gravy is delicious and herby and the cheese curds are large, and soon become deliciously chewy - a recommended dish for warming up on a cold day, or filling a gap in your appetite); And his rib meal (amazingly tender ribs marinated in delicious BBQ sauce, and cooked on his BBQ out on his deck, all served with his fries and coleslaw which Dave makes up fresh on the spot).
On the 19th, my dad arrived and we helped my uncle Dennett pick up a floating dock for his Seadoo from a local shipping company. It was a big plastic box with a dug-out and rollers to lift the hull of the Seadoo out of the water.
The 20th saw my Birthday come around, and we went to Butchart Gardens - a national historic site, which means it is about 100 years old. Canada is such a young country that it's civilised history is really measured in decades, as opposed to the near millenia of Europe and North Africa. The Gardens come in two basic blocks - the sunken garden, and the Japanese garden. The highlight for me was the Japanese garden, which included authentic elements imported from Japan, and provided stunning photographic opportunities even with my compact camera.
When it came around to it,I had a laid back and easy time out on Vancouver island in the middle of an otherwise hectic olympic schedule. I'd never slept on a boat before, and although there was an earth quake on the night of the 19th that disturbed the waters enough to make sleeping difficult, it was a very comfy experience. The only to note about being on such a boat is that they aren't well insulated, so they need to be brought up to temperature before staying inside them. And they also need very specific knowledge of how the boat works in order to be able to bring things like forced air heating and the propane system for the oven up to working order, the prior needing the diesel system and the latter needing some solenoids engaging.
I bought a bag on Sunday the 21st of february to hold all of my purchases on the way back home to the UK and to take the pressure off my back by putting the weight onto the bags wheels, and also got hold of an attractive spread of Canadian Geese made from charred Cedar wood at a local gift store for half price.
See my pictures on picasa for all of these things and more.
I departed from Vancouver island around lunchtime on Monday the 22nd of February for a hectic week of competition, and a different B&B every night (but with no idea where I'd be staying on the night of the 25th).
It didn't help that I was waiting for my credit card replacement to show up at Dennett and judy's. They had been calling every few hours while I was out yesterday, and thankfully on this morning they had caught me to confirm that we would be around to sign for the card. Mastercard were insisting that UPS would need a signature, so we would see once the day had panned out. I was living on borrowed time if that card didn't show.
After breakfast and some morning curling watching on the computer, we headed out to the ferry. The usual carbon-copy ferry crossing occurred - Sea West lounge seat, coffee, cake, leather recliner....
When I got to the Tsawassen Ferry terminal things seemed a little better organised at this time of the day. There was actually an express 620 bus to take me straight to Bridgeport Canada Line station waiting - one of several. I just showed my Olympics ticket and got on. It was quite a nice feeling - this one ticket seemed to get you some respect from people, and a nod from the driver. People who didn't have tickets were always interested in talking about what you'd be seeing, and how they had tried to get tickets and failed, or how they had wished they had tried in the first place. In spite of the obvious burden that an olympics puts onto the host city, everyone seemed to be very warm to it now that it was finally happening.
When I got to King Edward station, I knew not to follow the ridiculous instructions being given by the volunteers to send people all the way down to Manitoba street, and instead chose to walk up the hill to the top of the park and maybe spend the time I had before the match - about an hour - looking around perhaps at the Bloedel conservatory. When I got there, the heat in the bubble was overwhelming and I instead chose to surf the gift shop and take in the powerful fountain outside. I finished up in the gift shop and noticed that it was already 14:05 - the match will have started already, but I wasn't panicked. I made my way to the venue and got in quickly - so much for the security yet again. I did have a pat down this time, but it was utterly pointless - people too polite to even ruffle your jacket. I'd had the same thing twice before now, and found it fairly laughable. Time will tell if I get a more thorough pat down at any of the other events.
This match was a mixture, but no Canadians. I was instead taking an interest in the GB match. There were times when the men's GB team would pull off the right looking shots, but then either get the weight wrong or not provide the curl. This happened in enough cases to make the game seem tight at the beginning, but the brits - who were playing France - won out in the end 9-4. It was strange watching the british match, because Canada aren't playing and as such support for anything generally seemed muted. It was a shame, because of all the places the crowd might support, it would either be the UK or the US.
The curling exited at around 5:15, and I pretty much had to go straight back to the island in order to make sure I didn't get back at an irritatingly late time for Dennett to pick me up. As it stood, I'd likely be back late so when I got to King Edward station and saw the lineup, I decided to get some dinner to give the line up time to quieten down.
So I had dinner by going to Flying Wedge, which is a pizza chain in the City. I found the place reassuringly well laid out, with a huge fridge behind the counter labelled "Food Rotation FIFO". This meant that they had structured the shelves in the fridge so that you could only take the pre-prepared base out of it that had been made the longest ago. I like places that manage their food well. The deal here is you can buy wedges of pizza for around $5 individually, about $9 for two and they had other deals. There is good selection - I went for the Pepperoni, and I was not disappionted at all. The tomato sauce on these pizzas was amongst the best I have tasted in a long time - lots of herbs coming through, and yet a sweet and dark tomatoey flavour to boot. The cheese was a 4 cheese mix, and the pepperoni was absolutely huge slices, and properly meaty yet fall apart. I'd rate the Flying Wedge an 8/10 on Cambie street.
I returned slowly to the station with my pizza, eating it along the way and no doubt making many other people want pizza too.
I got to the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal after 7:30pm, and as such I had to wait for the 9pm ferry. Not the most fun I've ever had. But everywhere I've been on Vancouver's transit system left me feeling safe. I never once felt the irking I sometimes get on say the London tube or on the bus network out here in rural Cambridgeshire. Maybe it is because everyone in at least Vancouver seems to talk to each other ad-infinitum and as such everyone feels more at ease with where they are.... One thing I don't recommend though is buying any of the drinks from the hot drinks machine at the Tsawwassen end of the ferry to Schwartz Bay. It costs $2 and tasted - at least while I was there - as though the machine had a constipation problem in the tube that dispenses the flavouring powder. I can't confirm if this always happens, because I never bought it again.
I got back, and found that UPS had delivered my card. It turned out that they didn't even wait for a signature and had just dumped it on the drawbridge of the house boat. So much for the truly ridiculous pronouncement by mastercard that the thing had to be delivered and signed for.
The next day (18th), we had tickets for the IMAX and went to see a film about the evolution of Cowboys around the world, and then we saw a film about the wildlife in the Serengeti. The IMAX is buried inside the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, which is about 15 minutes walk from Fishermen's Wharf. Also inside the Museum is a very good gift shop, although their prices were typically touristy. They had aboriginal art of various flavours, books on presumably exhibit material and the obligatory Vancouver 2010 Olympics merchandise, which I love to browse through. It really is great way to make money for the support of the Olympics, because everyone wants to take home a piece of memorabilia or the odd souvenir of their trip to remind them of the great time they had while there. For me this was no exception, although my fascination quickly became pins. They had venue pins, mascot pins, landmark pins, sport pins, cultural pins etc. It turns out that there is a huge industry in trading Olympics pins, and people come from all over the world just to collect them and go to places like The Bay to the pin trading market. I won't be participating in this hobby! But I did buy pins that reminded me of my trip - one for each of the sports I watched, one of an umbrella to remind me of the rain, and some from my trips to places, and of course of the mascots.
We wlaked back to the boat in the dark after the IMAX and had food from the excellent Grilligans takeaway at Fishermen's wharf. Come rain or shine, Dave - the proprietor of Grilligans - sells well considered, delicious food. In the time I was there, I had: a turkey salad pita (delicious, with thick layers of turkey, fresh salad, mayonnaise and all was tasty and fresh); His poutine (a classicly French Canadian dish of fries, special gravy and cheese curds. His fries are crispy, and cooked in a special fryer designed to do fries. The gravy is delicious and herby and the cheese curds are large, and soon become deliciously chewy - a recommended dish for warming up on a cold day, or filling a gap in your appetite); And his rib meal (amazingly tender ribs marinated in delicious BBQ sauce, and cooked on his BBQ out on his deck, all served with his fries and coleslaw which Dave makes up fresh on the spot).
On the 19th, my dad arrived and we helped my uncle Dennett pick up a floating dock for his Seadoo from a local shipping company. It was a big plastic box with a dug-out and rollers to lift the hull of the Seadoo out of the water.
The 20th saw my Birthday come around, and we went to Butchart Gardens - a national historic site, which means it is about 100 years old. Canada is such a young country that it's civilised history is really measured in decades, as opposed to the near millenia of Europe and North Africa. The Gardens come in two basic blocks - the sunken garden, and the Japanese garden. The highlight for me was the Japanese garden, which included authentic elements imported from Japan, and provided stunning photographic opportunities even with my compact camera.
When it came around to it,I had a laid back and easy time out on Vancouver island in the middle of an otherwise hectic olympic schedule. I'd never slept on a boat before, and although there was an earth quake on the night of the 19th that disturbed the waters enough to make sleeping difficult, it was a very comfy experience. The only to note about being on such a boat is that they aren't well insulated, so they need to be brought up to temperature before staying inside them. And they also need very specific knowledge of how the boat works in order to be able to bring things like forced air heating and the propane system for the oven up to working order, the prior needing the diesel system and the latter needing some solenoids engaging.
I bought a bag on Sunday the 21st of february to hold all of my purchases on the way back home to the UK and to take the pressure off my back by putting the weight onto the bags wheels, and also got hold of an attractive spread of Canadian Geese made from charred Cedar wood at a local gift store for half price.
See my pictures on picasa for all of these things and more.
I departed from Vancouver island around lunchtime on Monday the 22nd of February for a hectic week of competition, and a different B&B every night (but with no idea where I'd be staying on the night of the 25th).