Day 48. Wednesday 5 October.

Rain forecast today and tomorrow, so today opted for Grouse Mountain (must have been named by an Aussie) as the outlook was marginally better. A good decision.

Caught up with a couple of friends on the way to the bus – a squirrel, a Steller’s Jay and a couple of American Robins. Although threatening darkly occasionally, the day ended in brilliant sunshine. And the Vancouver bus service has continued to impress, with a couple of legs connecting seamlessly. Every journey has had a friendly driver giving greetings & farewells & traveller info.

 

By the time we arrived at Grouse, options for extended (extending?) activities were limited. T was keen to try ziplining, but the only single vacancy (D wasn’t having a bar of it!) wasn’t until 2.30, and we thought, wrongly as it turned out, that our last bus was at 3.10. So we were left with the ride to the top (almost) of the mountain and some free extras.

 

The view from the top (4000 feet) was as spectacular as you’d expect, but pretty much just back over Vancouver and its waterways.

 

 

 

From there, a visit to visit two orphan grizzly bears, saved from being put to death over a decade ago under the policy existing at the time. They have prospered in their new home, and have in fact learned instinctively things their mum would have taught them: hibernation, diet and coming out of hibernation for example. Although these two will never be released into the wild because they have become too familiar with humans, the results of the experience and the opportunity to study them has changed the policy about killing orphans and they are now carefully reared before being released into the wild. Great story. And that was a close as we got to a Grizzly – and that was quite close enough!

 

 

 

 

The Cuddly Bear is probably a lot safer.

 

 

 

 

 

Caught some films, and the one on BASE jumping with wingsuits caught T’s attention – she now fantasises that ziplining is a bit too tame for her. D hasn’t changed his view in the slightest.

 

Then to the last attraction – the lumberjacks. This was classic vaudeville, with double entendres and dad jokes galore. Notwithstanding, the lumberjack skills of the two players were pretty impressive. The only downside was that both T & D sat on a bench with long cracks, holding water, which meant both came away looking like their nappies had leaked.

   

Stayed on the return bus to get to Lonsdale Quay, with a nice, short walk along the waterfront before getting some absolutely divine duck and quanciale salami, with hints of cinnamon (and some brie to accompany the leftover pecorino). Pre-dinner drinks reached new heights. Tonight’s dinner is a humbler fare: pork loin (not $40 per kilo).

Day 47. Tuesday 4 October.

Rain overnight, although not heavy, but enough to defer a trip on one of the gondolas to see the sights from on high: much to D’s relief. Gastown, the original hub of Vancouver, beckoned. After its golden years it had deteriorated into a ‘skid row’ but shop owners, residents, the authorities and other concerned citizens worked to resurrect its past glory. That has certainly worked, and it is now a very stylish/hip part of town, although there were plenty of beggars and homeless on the streets further along to the east.

 

A few minor, personal successes. T found some fabric she’d been chasing across North America and D had a haircut. Looks good, doesn’t he? The barber took liberties: persuading D that he’d look younger if his locks moved in the opposite direction (after 60+years, really?) When he emerged, T couldn’t work out what made him look different, (sophisticated, she said), so D revealed and the barber wanted feedback. Let’s see how old habits go….

 

 

 

These establishments were everywhere. were warned at one stage not to go further east than Carrell Street – that was the dividing line to the dangerous part of town. Needless to say, we inadvertently did, but were not threatened in any way, nor felt any danger. But we did see encampments literally – in several places, where tents and makeshift accommodations had been set up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, in the distance, a hotel sign caught the sophisticated D’s eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And we did see Gastown’s famous Steam Clock – and waited for the quarter hour chime, that sounded just like the trains that had seemed to follow us around our motorhome tour!

Day 46. Monday 3 October.

The obvious question: why put yourself through this? Over the next four days we have three trips planned that involve heights – suspension bridges, cliff walkways, tree top walks gondolas, skyways – and that doesn’t include the flight home! The first of these was completed today – the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park that incorporates three of these tortures: suspension bridge, tree boardwalk and cliff walk. T ventured into many viewing positions that D refused to: one couple offered to take a photo of the two of us on an overhang, but D politely refused. They were amused.

  

But, putting aside the hordes of other selfie -snapping tourists, it was a lovely experience. Again, the public transport system made it easy to get to and from – we even adjusted our plans while there, courtesy of the free wifi.

 

 

We now have 3 major firs sorted: the Western Red Cedar, the hemlock and the daddy of them all, the Douglas fir, which goes hundreds of feet skyward, without a branch, then has a topknot canopy. Lots of water needed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fish for tea – fresh Icelandic Cod at $25 per pound. Our maths was woefully inadequate – we assumed that this equated to $ 11.34 per kilo (that is, 1 pound = 2.2 kg), but in fact it was $ 55 per kilo (that is, in fact, that 1 pound = 0.45 kg). Ouch! And it was the cheapest fish in the Ambleside Fish Market!!!!!!!!! We bypassed the wild salmon and the yellowfin from Hawaii. We must enjoy this.

 

 

 

And remember:

Day 45. Sunday 2 October.

The past 6 weeks have caught up with us – a 1030 AM rise. Today was going to be a rest day, and what better way to rest than to visit Walmart? We’ve pretty much sorted out Vancouver’s public transport system, so were able to do transfers etc. easily to get there. The system, by the way, is terrific, and has regular services even on weekends.

Coffee at Starbucks in the absence of anything else on offer – and it was (surprisingly) very good. Will have to reassess our prejudices! On the return trip T walked ahead as D ducked into the local centre looking for a barber. As she toiled up the hill, pulling a wheeled bag, a car with two women in it stopped to ask if she was alright and whether she needed help. This is amazing!

By the time we got back to our temporary home, it was time to walk to the beach in the late afternoon cool air, although the sun was still shining. Passed the sporting fields and a women’s soccer game: these fields have had almost constant occupation since we arrived.

Fishermen in waders were casting nets into the sea from the beach. A bit further on, the pier has been renovated since its original construction in 1912 as a ferry terminal and now is just used for recreation and fishing.

  There were quite a few fishermen (and women) trying their hand: and all appeared ethnically Chinese. Crab was the preferred catch. Signage described the regulations re size and hours for catching; no nighttime crabbing! And again cooperative: one fishermen went out of his way to provide advice to a fisherwoman on baiting her hook, and the right hook to use.

 

He later introduced himself to her, so could well have been fishing for a different sort of catch. Not much caught that could be kept legally – one chap was cleaning some fish as we departed and D looked, looked again at what appeared to be trout, and asked what kind of fish they were. Trout. The fisherman had been to a local lake, caught the (undersize) trout and then come to the pier to fish some more. He was sensibly cleaning the fish there rather than doing it at home.

A walk home via esplanade shopping (restaurants mostly) and real estate windows revealed the $ necessary for West Van….1 bedroom/bathroom apartment….$500k! 4 bedrooms/3 bathrooms…..2.5 million+. This confirms some overheard conversations about real estate while travelling the buses. We won’t be buying and staying on, much as we have come to like this city and its people.

Day 44. Saturday 1 October.

The day started with the finish of the 2016 AFL Grand Final. D bought a pass on the internet, checked with the hosts on the use of their plan (all go) and was set to settle in – but ERROR messages kept appearing! Changes to settings and move to Chrome solved the problem and he was able to watch one of the best games of finals footy he’s ever seen. D would have been happy for either very good side to win, but was barracking for the sentimental favourite, who got up.

So T had a disturbed night because of a hyped up (non) sleeping partner, and he had a disturbed night because he was late to bed and was then high on adrenalin, having virtually kicked quite a few goals, and missed some, during the game.

Notwithstanding, T had a plan for the day – off to the Granville Island Markets. Another easy bus trip into town, a change of buses and to the island. A couple noticed us consulting our map and asked for advice on how to get to the markets – the blind leading the blind. A local lady sitting with us said she was going there, so she had an instant pack to follow her – the pied piper of Vancouver. She got us to a coffee shop, with guidance on the way, and left us to our own devices.

   T & D split for an hour to do their own thing, after a coffee of course, wandering separately around a market which was a cross between Paddy’s (but smaller) and an artisan/craft market. Some lovely craft and some fresh produce (veges, cheeses, meats, fish, oils etc) and an exhibition at Emily Carr of alumni folk. Footsore, we headed back on the buses mid afternoon. Rain held off, with just the occasional sprinkle to push up brollies and freshen the air. Note the dull photos!

We have commented on the politeness and what seems to be the innate good manners of the locals, here and elsewhere in our north American travels. Alas, this does not always apply to some of the (obvious) tourists, who display a lack of personal space and are quite often simply ill mannered in their need to occupy the prime spot for longer than is reasonable to do so – usually to take endless selfies. In a few instances while we were touring we noticed that some ignored signs to stay on pathways protecting fragile areas, or climbed onto walls or rocks to put themselves in situations that were quite simply stupidly dangerous.

 

Finished the afternoon with Facetime chats back home and an uplifting movie on Netflix. Settled in for an early evening in our very comfortable and well appointed apartment (that’s us in the ground level part, with the hosts above us in the two upper levels). It is avery steep climb up a hill from the bus stop!

Day 43. Friday 30 September.

What a difference a good night’s sleep in a proper bed makes. Two totally pooped people awoke ready to discover Vancouver. We had been a little disappointed with our one day/two night introduction 6 weeks ago so were determined to discover if there was a nicer side to the city.

The day looked fantastic, ahead of forecast rain over the weekend. T suggested hiring bikes to pedal around Stanley Park, which we knew to be lovely from earlier. Travelling into town was another good bus experience: a young lady stood to offer her seat to D; another young lady did the same for an older woman; and not so young man stood for another older woman. Haven’t seen such a thing in Australia for at least 30 years!

Into the city for a coffee at Beenz, where we had enjoyed good coffee last time. It was just as good.

Two bikes hired, we were off – after walking to the park rather than chancing the traffic. T hasn’t been on a bike for a good 20 years, but as they say, once you’ve got it licked…. And with her gammy feet???? ….no real problems. 3 hours on and T suggests that since any time over 3 becomes free, and the day is so perfect, why not have some lunch and then do some more? Good plan at the time.

 

At the end of 5+ hours, will the bums & legs ever recover? What a pair of geese! What a marvelous day. What a beautiful city. And the set-up for cyclists and walkers is wonderful.

 

 

One of our many stops in the first three hours was at this collection of totems. They are a powerful message: not icons, or worshipped, but a record of family and myths. The images all have meanings (for example, and simplistically, the eagle represents the sky, the fish (whale, salmon) represents the sea r water and the animal (bear, wolf, beaver) represents the land, while the frog represents the connection between land and water. The colours are also representative: the aquamarine of the clear water and the red/umber of the earth or the cedar (from which they are carved).

 

 

The harbor has apparently been cleaned up, and it looks it. But we were not tempted to join this lass, as attractive as it appeared from the shore.

 

 

 

The inscription for this sculpture is “May this sculpture inspire laughter, playfulness and joy in all who experience it.” It did just that for us.

 

 

 

 

 

Someone had bothered to give this old lady some flowers. That gesture sums up our impression of the city.

 

 

 

 

D will top it off with the AFL grand final tonight, streamed on his laptop. T will probably be sleeping.

Day 41. Wednesday 28 September.

The bus to the light rail station at SeaTac Airport was right conveniently opposite KOA. An American couple from Florida, also staying at the park, joined us and gave advice on what to do. They were also the first Americans – he in particular – who were vehemently opposed to Trump, although not altogether sold on Hilary either. We got the full story: Trump’s critical financial situation, his $300-600 million debt to the Russians, his crazy pronounciations on using nuclear weapons, the parlous state of the Republican party now it is run by the tea party lunatics, the VP candidate’s Christian fanaticism…..

The light rail ride, punctuated by more asides as well as good advice, provided an elevated glimpse of Seattle suburbs as we travelled the 30 odd miles into town. Next was the monorail to the needle and Chihuly exhibition. We parted ways with our new friends – like pretty much all Americans we’ve encountered, they were happy to talk openly and help out.

Coffee called. The young lady at the restaurant that is part of the Chihuly Gardens informed us, as soon as we said we just wanted coffee, that they didn’t do espresso. How did she know? She directed us to a café in a mall nearby where we got very acceptable coffees and a bagel at another shop.

D ate most, but not all of it with his eyes closed: the image was too powerful ( grotesque, said T) – as indeed was the taste of the peppers and walnut paste.

 

 

First tourist stop was up the Seattle Needle. Fantastic feat of engineering, built on time and with no fatalities or serious injuries despite the clear lack of current day WHS practices (such as, initially, no safety harness , vests etc for workmen at high levels!) This was1961/62 and the first men were being put into space, so risk was probably a relative thing. Mandatory photo taken – but free!

Then to Chihuly. Words can’t capture the beauty of the exuberant/ostentatious glass he has made and supervised over the decades. He’s a Seattle legend who seems to have a lot of fun with his whimsical creations. The colour, the shapes, the SCALE! T felt that a garden renovation is definitely long overdue at home.

  

  

And a trip to Seattle would not be complete without a visit to the famous Pike Street Markets – and the fish markets in particular. So monorail back to the Westlake Centre and a stroll down the hill. We did indeed witness the fish throwing with singing/hamming it up fishmongers.

 

On the bus and light rail back to KOA in time for some spring cleaning ahead of the hand back tomorrow, and then some shared drinks and food with our travelling companions. Pizza ordered in – not without considerable difficulty and much telephoning by our own problem solver Michael (including a significant tip-incentive)

Alarm set for an early start to get the motorhome back and then to airport for an 1140 AM flight to Vancouver.

Day 42. Thursday 29 September.

The day started badly at some time dark o’clock. D awoke with some reflux so took one Zantac pill, an over the counter antacid and it went downhill from there as there was some sort of bizarre reaction. The pill helped the reflux but about half an hour after falling back asleep a grinding pain developed just under the ribs along with a dripping cold sweat. D thought of a heart attack ( although was pretty sure it wasn’t). T thought so too and considered alternatives for getting help. Then came the itchy scalp, followed by itching hands, then feet. More was to follow. Itchy hives broke out on the trunk. The only reassuring thing was that the pain, although still intense, had localized in the higher abdomen, so 911 call not necessary. Phew!

A final wipe over, disconnect power and water, empty sullage and we were away under the guidance of our GPS. First problem was a detour due to road works, which took us out of the way and seemed to offend the GPS. Next problem was an unclear instruction that had us taking the wrong option and heading down a freeway for 5 km in the wrong direction. This really did upset the GPS that now just wanted us to keep doing U turns. Reset the GPS but no change. Back to basics – look up the address (we had being relying on blind faith in technology) and enter that. No change. Enough to bring on a panic sweat, as the trip should have taken 11 minutes and we were now up to an hour in rush-hour traffic, with an international flight to get. Decided to return to KOA and start from there again, but en route D noticed 24^th Street on the right and as we were heading for 30^th Street it was a fair bet we might be close. Needless to say, the next street was 22^nd, so a U turn was required. Back we went, to find after crossing a major intersection that 28^th Street had been the last one on the right and we were now heading down a dead end. Another U turn in a truck parking lot, with a bit of excitement as a 18 wheeler loomed into view as we were completing the turn on the wrong side of the road. But there, on the new right, was 30^th Street, with Anne the owner waving frantically to attract our attention. She had been expecting us earlier, and was going to drive us to the airport after the handover, so she was getting anxious. Not to mention the anxiety levels of D&T!!!!!!

The handover was brief and we were driven to the airport. There, the self check-in counter was malfunctioning and the book -in computer was apparently working very slowly. All in all, not much fun for anyone, but the Air Canada staff stayed cool and kept the line moving, albeit slowly. A bit of luck: the Vancouver -bound folk were separated from the queue and processed quickly.

A very short flight got us back in Canada around 1 PM, so we decided to take the public transport option (had been Googled earlier in the day). The light rail was efficient: a lady noticed us checking out the route map and offered advice. Emerged from the train station in the middle of town, short walk to the bus stop, and onto the bus to take us to our next abode. The bus driver was terrific: helpful, polite, caring – and to other passengers as well as us. Once again on the bus a lady opened a conversation, keen to know of our experience with the airport rail because she was planning to use it shortly. We have been so impressed with the unrushed politeness/assistance from total strangers throughout this trip. Nothing is too much trouble.

A walk up a very steep hill dragging our luggage got us into the lovely apartment in West Vancouver, where we can now revel in the pleasures of space, a proper bed, and, if we are brave enough, take a look at what’s happening in the world according to TV.

Day 40. Tuesday 27 September.

A visit to Chihuly before departing Seattle had been planned, based on our itinerary which stated a 1915 flight to Vancouver. However, on checking the tickets (not sure why, actually) the flight time was actually 1140 – and being an international trip, we needed to be there at least two hours before departure, after handing back the motorhome: it wasn’t going to work. So, a departure from the group program, bypassing the scheduled overnight stop in Cascade Locks tonight and heading direct to Seattle to allow the visit tomorrow. Getting that simple change sorted had its moments. We emailed KOA Seattle to ask if we could change the reservation to add the extra night, giving dates: the reply said that yes we could change the reservation – but didn’t actually confirm that this had been done. Another email….and we were expected. As a courtesy, emailed Cascade Locks to let them know we weren’t coming and that we weren’t seeking a refund. Advised that we could neither reserve nor cancel by email (curious, since we had an email confirmation of the booking). A telephone call got voicemail….so we asked the rest of the party to confirm that we wouldn’t be coming: don’t wait up!

A long day – 470 km all on Freeways (84, 82 and 90). The wind played its usual role, making the latter half of the journey a bit scary, and the many sections of narrowed roadway due to roadworks contributed to seat clutching (by T) and wheel gripping (by D).

For the first time on this trip (it is Day 40) we were the first away – a great achievement, probably never to be repeated. Stopped at a little town called Prosser for a late breakfast, as we’d forgone a repast in order to get on the road. Full of antique shops, mostly still closed at 10 AM, but it seemed nary a place to get breakfast. Eventually redirected to Caffe’ Villa, where we had the sort of meal you read Reacher having in one of Lee Child’s novels – excepting we had (very reasonable) espresso rather than cup upon cup of drip coffee like Reacher does. Interestingly, a gent behind D had his cup filled several times by the waitress, just like in the novels. It was dark inside, with no natural lighting, lending it a suitable ambiance. Most of the clientele were elderly (much older than us) in groups around tables, and mostly women. This ‘Diner’ experience was one D had been hanging out for. We both had omelettes – one would have done nicely for both of us, with leftovers.

 

Today’s journey took us through dry/rolling hill & valley country, planted with vines, fruit trees, hops and pasture….rather like the Barossa. Clearly there’s enough water to deliver heavy production. Snow-capped mountains were ahead on the horizon…we presume one of them was Mt St Helen’s. Then it was through Snoqualmie Pass (very, very steep and long descent) in spruce forests and we were on the outskirts of Seattle, with 4 lanes of traffic screaming each direction. T was more than relieved to step out of the truck. D was relieved that the gripping-wheel -hands could relax.

And for the first time in 40 days we were able to get a radio station that played T’s preferred music. Searching through 5 bands of stations, nothing was familiar/to her liking until a public radio station delivered just the ticket. Early on there was a station doing a post-mortem on the Presidential debate (yesterday?) Although the commentators declared a non-partisan position, they were somewhat critical of Hilary’s “too prepared” approach but then critical of Trump’s failure to ask questions about the Clinton Foundation. So, it was time to find a different station. Roadside signage called for voters to Make America Great Again with TRUMP.

D has given the truck its final washdown. Tomorrow, we’ll take public transport into town and do the tourist sights (The Fish Market, Dale Chihuly’s Garden, Sky Needle….).

Day 39. Monday 26 September.

Some more impressions:

• The military is well regarded – actually, more than that. There are discounts for active duty military, including no cost, and for veterans. There are many wearing caps with ‘Veteran’ or ‘Vietnam Veteran’ or ‘Disabled Veteran’ and the like;
• And there is a strong sense of patriotism, in a very positive sense;
• D is reminded of the advice that Admiral Yamamoto gave the Japanese government prior to WW II: ‘don’t awaken the sleeping giant’. There is a sense of the same potential today: latent power – hard to define, but definitely there;
• A bit of resignation from the locals about the political shenanigans. We heard a comment today about the inadequacies of those aspiring to leadership (sounds familiar?).

The last few days have gifted us with wonderful changing scenery – and some scents to go with them. There has been the strong aroma of the diesel exhaust of huge locomotives mixed with the exhausts of the semis, the sweet smell of freshly mown greenery, the agricultural ‘tang’ of dairies, the surprisingly sweet smell of a 20 ton lorry of brown onions and the overwhelming pong of cattle manure in feedlots. Transport seems to be the key. People and stuff are constantly on the move. Big, well-maintained roads straddle the continent. It seems that there is no barrier to moving.

Dropped into Baker City after several hours on the motorway. Much was closed because it was a Monday, and the historic area was quiet. But the downtown had a lovely sense of the preservation of the old, buildings of stone with pressed metal ceilings, Victorian architecture in timber homes… This has been a rare find in our month of north-western roaming.

Mostly, the smallish towns we’ve passed through have been ugly, sprawling and characterized by 1960’s chain store malls and fast food outlets. And today we found a good coffee in a store that had a curious mixture of delicatessen, kitchenware, wine, coffee and cards.

While there, we put the motorhome through the truck wash point (we are required to return it clean). It took about 45 minutes, mostly done manually, the team speaking Spanish although in conversation with us their English was very good. Good outcome, except for the door catch broken by the wash broom – and the thousands of bugs that sacrificed themselves on our newly pristine home on the next leg! And we have another day of driving to go.

The Oregon Trail Interpretive Centre provided a terrific story of the hardy emigrants who travelled the almost 2000 miles track from about 1840 until 1870, mostly on foot, with a ton+ of supplies in wagon trains. Hardy? Well, there was a grave every 80 yards for the roughly 300,000 who started out. Why did they do it? Why didn’t they stop and settle on the way? They were desperate for a fresh start, economic times were bad and there was the lure of free good land in Oregon. Their six -month ordeal makes our six month odyssey in Gloria, with its problems, look like a picnic.

We mentioned the smells. The scenery has also been constantly changing. Rolling hills – perhaps the road south from Adelaide to Victor Harbour? Long straight stretches of sagebrush – perhaps the Hay Plain? Into the Blue Mountains – that’s their name, and not like our version. And for a while, passing through forests of spruce.

  

The manager of KOA Pendleton where we are tonight is the son of the manager (owner) from last night in Boise – a chip off the old block. Like his dad he entertained us with stories for well over an hour. Travis had completed his mission as a Mormon in Tasmania in the late 1990s, so well understood Australians, and their sense of humour.

Tomorrow we’ll head straight for Seattle, our wagon drop-off point. Don’t think we really qualify as Oregon Trailers.

Day 38. Sunday 25 September.

A summer’s day, how bizarre! Today was “avoid the freeway” where possible, so the short run became a long loop through the agricultural canyon of the Snake River.

  

An amazing early 20th century engineering project that dammed the magnificent ‘western Niagara’ falls called Shoshone, reducing them to a trickle, and turned a vast desert into irrigated food production. And it certainly looked a wealthy farming system.

  

As we approached the gate to Shoshone Falls, the attendant commented on the embarrassing political nightmare that the country is in. T suggested that he access the 1800 number seen on a sign at the bridge over the Snake River we’d just crossed. It said “Need Hope? Call 1800…..” Later in the day, at the end of the food bowl drive, a private home had a big sign on its roadside driveway: “Store your food and your ammo. You’ll need them”.

 

A quick trip into Twin Falls looking for a coffee: surely a city of over 45,000 would have lots of espresso cafes downtown? Not so – the malls and large shopping strips have resulted in the cultural, old centre being virtually deserted. We found an espresso (of sorts) at Burnie’s Bumps, basically a bar and dance club that remained open until 3 AM (the only one), although the flow of alcohol was turned off at 1 AM. Burnie was a refugee from the Yugoslavian crisis in the late 1990s and had successfully settled and intehrated in the US. He was happy to talk of this, as was his wife when she came in.

By the way, should you ever visit Twin Falls, 2nd Avenue is one way.

The vistas changed regularly between canyon walls, mesas, sagebrush, river flats and field upon field of maize/corn/potatoes/dairy cattle feed lots. Every home/ranch had manicured lush lawn (sprinklers going full bore). Such a contrast to the surrounding desert terrain.

Now camped at Boise, next Pendleton and ahead we have 2 days of driving to reach Seattle.