Finally leaving Canada!

Aug. 7  From Unitarians to lying customer service reps…

Meg bathing in holy light.



In the anthropological museum.



The next day was Sunday, so Meg wanted to check out the local Unitarian church.  We dropped her off there, late as usual, while Elaine and I headed for Queen Elizabeth Park.  This is apparently the highest point in Vancouver and is covered with carefully tended gardens and impressive viewpoints.  One particularly nice piece of public art was of a photographer taking a few friends in front of a cityscape, all wearing bronze 70s outfits (they were all statues).  A wedding was happening in a nice multi-windowed building at the top of the park; and an older couple were doing their tai-chi in a shady area.  We admired the giant rhubarb and the layouts of the gardens which demonstrated much foresight and thought.  Back at the church, things were just letting out when we returned.  Meg showed off the nice space they have and introduced me to a fine fellow who had gone with Meg’s congregation in Toronto to Montgomery in the 60s to the famous peace march.

Lunch was spent with Meg’s cousin Don (Elaine’s brother) at a local golf course restaurant.  We scored a seat on the patio, and both the prices and food were good.  The course is proclaimed to be for non-members only, but Don informed us that few private enclaves also book time there.  A fine visit and lunch were had by all.

Everyone needs a demonic last supper!

Our next stop was at the Anthropological Museum, famous for Haida art and other cultural pieces in their collection.  They had publicized many new items but Elaine informed us that the changes were minimal from the last time she was there.  Lotsa totem poles and other large carvings were in the main hall.  A side exhibit covered how Japanese woodcut techniques were brought to the Inuit in the 1950s and Inuit printmaking was born.  There was also a display on “What Art is Worth”, how different appraisers value the same piece very differently and how a piece’s worth changes over time.  The central room had thousands of pieces from cultures around the world, this was the place where you could spend days trying to see everything. Highlights included a demonic last supper, wonderful African carvings and many New Guinea masks and bilims (we learned about these from Bea, another Unitarian who taught in PNG  for two years).  Outside of this room was a massive sculpture by a famous artist whose name we forget, about humanity emerging from a clam shell.  Overall, a small museum physically but with lots of cool stuff. 

After this, boring stuff.  Packing for Kelowna the next day, Meg worked on her epic overdue  assignment for work.  Some chatting was done and homebrew imbibed, then to bed.

Monday- off to the bus station!  We thought that 30 minutes before departure would be fine,  wrong again!  The telephone ticket guy I talked to had misled me (after he lied to me about the bus rates, I should have stopped listening to him) into thinking that we could bypass the ticket line and get our fares at the welcome desk.  There was no one at the welcome desk and the line was long.  We had no choice but to join it.  Meg talked to the woman at security who said the line should only take 10 minutes and she would help us hold the bus if necessary.  She was correct, as the ticket people were quick and competent.  At security, a bottle of wine we had was prohibited  from being in carry-on, no glass allowed.  Strangely, the security here was airport quality, with bag searches and questioning.   Security, yes.  Welcome desk and people to answer the phone, no.  I rushed and made it into line with Meg waving me on only to find that the trip was delayed as they didn’t have a bus ready.  All that rushing for nothing.  Even worse, I later discovered that I had lost my credit card…

Faulty Brakes, Fire, and Family…  

Once on the bus, it was a bus trip.  Meg napped, I read and we had a lunch of dried fruit and nuts left over from our plane trip.  As we headed up the mountains, the scenery kept getting more spectacular as we headed up the mountains.  An accident (someone on a stretcher appeared to have a motorcycle helmet on his legs) slowed us down until we were 45 minutes late, but short breaks and a fast descent toward Lake Okanagan let us arrive on time.  After we got there, he mentioned that the bus’ faulty brakes helped us gain time.  Also, the smell of brakes was very strong in the bus as apparently the air intake vents are right behind the brakes, a nasty burning rubber smell.   After going down the last hill, we saw the lake with a big, bald hill looming above it, very picturesque.

Males and barbecues belong together.

When we arrived, Bill and Wanda (my uncle and aunt) were there to greet us.  Meg was busy helping an older woman with Parkinson’s get to the station and be ready for her connector.  We headed back to their house and got settled into our room.  They were fairly high up in a new subdivision that had recently been evacuated due to fire.  Much of the conversation around Kelowna revolved around fires and most people kept a box of essentials packed in case of evacuation.  The area of Kelowna they lived in was called Westbank, but it didn’t remind us of the Middle East at all. 

After freshening up, we headed to a rocky beach in Peachland (great name) to splash around.  After six hours in a bus, the swim really felt great.  It was hard to get into due to the cold lake but once in it was perfect. Our beach area had a walkway and buoys warning motorboats not to get too close.  After lying around and chatting, we got back in the car.  On the way back, we got a tour of the area.  The shoreline is mainly covered with multi-million dollar mansions (our guide book said that Kelowna has more millionaires per capita than anywhere else in Canada) occasionally interspersed with a little cottage that hasn’t been bought up and torn down yet.  Many public parks and water access points lie along the lake as well.  Closer to Kelowna the vineyards start, perched atop hills rolling down to the water through rows of grapes.   On the hills Bill pointed out the results of previous fires and how some small stands of trees survived (nobody knows why) while others burned to a crisp. 

After a detailed look at their neighbourhood, it was back to their place for bbq ribs, corn and beans, all yummy.  We had dessert on the patio and then retired inside.  Meg worked on the downstairs computer while Bill showed me his incredible collection of scanned photos dating far back into our family.  After that, we had a well-deserved sleep.

Desert Snakes, Wild Sage, and Sizzling Wine…

We were up after a fine night’s sleep and had a great breakfast with Bill and Wanda (lotsa fresh peaches).  Bill had appointments and Wanda had no desire for a long drive, so they generously lent us their car for a ride down to the only desert in Canada, close to Osoyoos.  The drive down took longer than we thought as it went through all the towns along the lake, meaning many stoplights and slowdowns.  The views were often amazing, as mountains and lakes have this way of coming together nicely from the right angles, especially when surrounded by vineyards and fruit farms. 

Meg enjoying Canada's only desert.

We pulled up at the desert centre 30 minutes early for their noon tour.  It was definitely more of an Arizona than Sahara desert, with lots of scrubby plants about.  The interpretation centre had enough info to keep us occupied until the volunteer-led tour got going. 

Meg’s thoughts:  We were held up waiting for a family that was running late and the tour went from 1 hour to 1.5 so we were in the blasting heat for over 2 hours- it was 35 Celsius but felt hotter due to the reflection from the sand. Our guide, Ken, from Scotland asked if we had any questions and I wanted to know about snakes so he showed us a rattle snake skin and “rattler”. Did you know that the sound rattlesnakes make is due to hard pieces of dead skin in their tails? He also told us a lot about plant life on the desert especially the “Ecto Gamma Crust” which looks totally dead and dry but if you spill a little water on it puffs up like green moss. It’s what holds the sand together and stops it from blowing away. I have to say I was originally disappointed as I was expecting a “Lawrence of Arabia type desert with blowing sands, but once Ken explained all the neat stuff  living on this little area I was totally hooked. But the most interesting thing for me was the politics-

Desert Politics- the reason this desert is so small is the blinking vineyard owners are using all the land to grow their wine- and there is a movement to create a national park and protect this fragile ecosystem but the vineyard owners don’t want that to happen so guess who’s gonna win that battle…

Owen – The tour took a little over an hour, lots of information on plants and animals.  Our volunteer guide showed how the black moss gained colour and texture almost immediately when you poured a bit of water on it.  We heard about these endangered frogs that spend 9 months of the year hibernating under the mud of a dried-up pond until rain fills it again.  Then it’s a race to mate and for the tadpoles to mature enough to head back underground for another year.  The plant that produced both witches’ brush and cowboys’ toilet paper was another good story.

Spotted lakes, from a distance.

Meg -After the desert we went to eat lunch at some unmemorable place by the lake and headed out to the Spotted Lake. We had seen pictures of this lake in Vancouver and it was beautiful- it is caused by salt pools drying up (leaving different-colored circular pools dotting the mostly dry lakebed). But you can’t get closer than 2 miles as it’s on First Nations Land and it is in the process of being preserved- I think they are going to build a boardwalk over it. It wasn’t that exciting from a distance but it will be worth the wait once the boardwalk is built. (The guy at the tourist centre warned us that most people came back disappointed that you could only view it from a distance.)

Owen – we then drove up a super-switchbacked road to get to Anarchist’s lookout, which had an amazing view of the area as well as a look into the nearby USA.  Meg was distressed by the drive but enjoyed the view nonetheless.

Meg - After the viewpoint we went to this mysterious vineyard called Silver Sage- yes here we were supporting the very vineyard owners who probably wanted to thwart the National Park- we were the epitome of drunken hypocrites- well I was after the tasting. But we had a hilarious host- Ken said there was a sage that grew in the desert that couldn’t be eaten, but you could make a tea or infuse a wine with it. Well we love mysterious wine so we had to try it. Elena gave us about 6 wines to try, the sage one tasted very sagey. But the wine we (I) fell in love with was an ice wine with a huge red pepper in it. As Elena warned us, the first taste was like a slap in the face, the next a kiss and a slap and the third, a kiss. We bought a sage and a pepper to share with our various hosts.(She had great running stories while we tried almost a dozen wines, most people were in a great mood by the end and were filling baskets with bottles to take home.  There must have been hundreds of vineyards along our road back, worth a return visit to try a few more.)

We got back in time for dinner but forgot where we were going, got lost and had to call Bill and Wanda as there are 10 phases of houses and they were in one of those phases.  But at last we were home safe and sound with our sage wine and a lovely meal of salmon and corn.

Owen-  Alana (my cousin) visited us with her puppy before dinner but couldn’t stay.  At lunch I noticed that my credit card was missing, so we called around to the lost and founds at the various bus stations we had gone through, but no luck.  We had another look at the photos on Bill’s computer and then turned in.

Stuntman Steve, and the Raging Kelowna Fire....and fiery wine surprises

With Stuntman Steve, offspring and Kelowna.

The next day we had another fine breakfast and Meg got to work on her dreaded assignment.  I spent the morning trying to get ahold of Greyhound’s Vancouver lost and found and had to ask for a manager after being lied to by their telephone service people.  Alana’s husband, Stuntman Steve then showed up with his girls to give us a tour of Kelowna, the oldest one accompanying us as the resident photographer.  We went through the downtown and up to a park overlooking the city.  Steve works on radio and as a private MC and a promo person with a local hockey team.  He could work as a guide if any of those fall through, as he obviously has a passion for the area and knows much about the geography, history and politics of the area.  Most memorable was looking at the areas affected by the local fires and his own experience covering the fire for a local radio station while being alone in his house in an evacuated neighbourhood with emergency vehicles his only company. He was allowed to stay and report on the fire only if he didn’t set foot  off his property (apparently they can’t force you to leave, even though you are in terrible danger- only if they deem you mentally unfit). The family had already evacuated and the place was eerily quiet, except for the glow of the tracer lights overhead and the police choppers. He stayed as long as he could but in the end he too evacuated the place. Luckily his place didn’t get burned down but so many houses did. 

After another trip downtown, Steve dropped us off and Bill, Wanda and I checked out some wineries while Meg got her work done.  Mission Hill had amazing grounds on a hill over the river and a collection of sculptures on display of little people on wheels and such.  The other one we went to had similar views and a history of serving wine to British royalty and American presidents.

Back for lunch and then we had to get ready for the trip back to Vancouver.  A bit of shopping and then we said goodbye and waited at the tiny Greyhound station for Westbank.  A pair of bratty girls argued with their mom about mom about money and other people came and went.  The bus was surprisingly late and then we sat for another 30 minutes waiting for two other connector buses to meet up with us.  Once again, the mountains were amazing as we headed to the coast.

We pulled into Vancouver a solid hour late.  This time there was an actual person at the welcome desk who was very helpful but it looked like they had found no credit card. Being late, we took a taxi back to Elaine and Mack’s place where we found them sipping wine with company after checking out the latest harry Potter film.   Meg served the chili wine from a paper bag, without warning people and was quite delighted with everyone’s reaction.  We had a good chat and then headed off for bed.

                From Fish and Chips to Toe Sucking Art Movies….

Thursday involved all sorts of unexciting stuff.  Meg worked on her assignment all day.  I tried Greyhound one more time and then organized a new Visa card to be sent to our hotel in Hawaii.  I strolled around the corner and grabbed some excellent fish and chips which I munched happily on the bus ride downtown.  The crew at main and _ was really moving today, as homeless folks were gathered in doorways, selling junk on sidewalk blankets and just hanging out, much more concentrated than in any other city I’ve seen.  I got off on Granville and walked several busy streets to the art gallery.  It’s in a really nice old building with a domed skylight above a columned stairway.  The exhibit focused on surrealism and had a fine collection of creations, paintings and films with good curation.  They were sort of forcing some Haida art into the topic, but it didn’t quite work.  The next floor had a local artist who had some large-scale pieces such as a mirror maze with questions from a “how depressed are you” quiz etched into the glass.  The next floor had some examples of Canadian surrealists work and the top floor had some LED pictures creating moving ghosts through pictures, as well as lots of prints by that pre-cinema guy who took pictures of horses running.  At the end, I sat in a room and got to see most of Bunuel’s L’Age D’Or, including the famous toe-sucking scene.  Great stuff!

                I continued down Granville, by a strange wavy wood platform covered in orange astroturf that people were lounging on, public art?  Further on, the street took me through the theatre district (sorry Vancouver, I only recognized about 10% of the names on your walk of fame) and into a seedier area where the number of sex shops and biker types hanging out steadily increased.  To the west of that was a very upscale, trendy area where converted warehouses were full of high-end restaurants and shops with nice walkways by them so that the local aristocracy could ponder all of the way in which they are superior to you.

                I next hopped on the Skytrain to the huge Metro City mall to meet Meg’s friend  Luisa.  She’s travelling the world on sabbatical as well so we compared notes and looked for overlap to meet up overseas.  We went to the excellent Cattle Chowder restaurant where you choose your broth, noodles and toppings for a huge bowl of goodness. She was very animated and we hope to bump into her (New Year’s Eve in Hong Kong?).  We got back on the Skytrain and were very lucky to find our bus waiting for us (30 minute wait if we missed it).  Back at the house we played another game and then I headed off to bed. Meg stayed up late, determined to finish her assignment.  She was almost done when she got me up at about 1 am, asking how to recover files deleted from a memory stick.  I had no idea, so she had to stay up even later to redo the accidentally deleted chapter.  I was fast asleep by the time she came to bed.

Cousin Colleen, and on to the Aquarium for a whale of a good time(yuck yuck)…

               

Friday (Aug. 12) was when we had to pick up our Visas and meet my cousin Colleen for lunch.  Meg was in surprisingly good shape after the previous night’s trauma and got some breakfast into her before we headed out.  The bus took a full 30 minutes this time, but Meg spotted a shortcut on the transit map that saved us lots of time.  The Visas were ready and the people there were able to explain the options of our double-entry category clearly.  After some frantic texting, Colleen picked us up and took us to the posh Jericho Tennis club for lunch. Her membership there is a work perk, so it was nice for us to take advantage of.  The view and food were excellent.  Coleen talked about finally being able to appreciate Vancouver after semi-retiring (3 days a week).  We took our time, had a great visit and were then dropped off at Stanley Park to puzzle our way to the aquarium.  It’s not easily signed for pedestrians, but we found it and it was worth it.  The 4D film was a blast with the 3D glasses and the squirts, pokes, bubbles etc. that were the surprise bit of the show.  The Beluga Show was interesting but some families moved off when the trainers spent more time lecturing on conservation than getting the whale to spit at people.  We poked around outside and then hit the tropical area, which was a highlight.  Brilliant colours abounded and weird little eels that Meg bonded with (I really love those little guys), stuck out like seaweed from the sand.  There were nurse sharks and a giant sea  turtle, as well as a wild fruit bat area that was completely chaotic.

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Lunch with Colleen.

Meg's favourite worms.

Enjoying our 4D experience.

                We next watched the local tank of fish being fed and then headed out once Meg fully perused the gift shop.  We grabbed the Skytrain back and had a fine feed of burgers (veggie for me).  We decided to play one more epic  game of Carcosse for our final evening with Elaine and Mack in BC.  Then bed.

“I’m leaving on a jet plane”, that loses my luggage and won’t let me complain…

                We got up early and ate breakfast while repacking all of the things that had gotten strewn around the room over the past few days.  After everything was stowed we said goodbye to Mack, grabbed some food at the grocery store and headed out to the airport.  Then it was goodbye to Elaine.  At the airport they had this idiotic system where instead of having the ticketing officer throw your bag onto a conveyor belt they make you stand in a huge 20-minute line to hand your bag to a guy who puts it on a conveyor belt.  Brilliant.  While waiting at the gate Meg was frantically writing postcards and waiting on hold for 30 minutes to cancel her Solo cellphone plan.  I was trying to use up my Starbucks gift card and she ended up getting cut off the phone line.  The consolation was that the guy at the gate was willing to post her postcards for her, as the gate itself was officially US territory and was not under Canada Post’s jurisdiction. 

                We flew to LA on a tiny plane with graffiti on the headrests and broken springs on the seat pockets.  If our carry- on baggage could fit on that plane, it would fit anywhere.  Then we flew on to Hilo after a 1 ½ hour stopover.  We were glad for our store bought munchies and books as food and entertainment weren’t complimentary. 

British Columbia - More hills than Ontario

Aug. 3

We were not looking forward to the time change in Vancouver but after the furnace that Toronto has been the mid-20s; the BC weather was a blessed relief.   Elaine (Meg’s cousin) met us at the airport and she and Mack were exemplary hosts.  The first night we caught up with them and managed to stay awake until 11 local time (3 am according to our bodies) and used a combination of melatonin and homebrew to reset our body clocks.

The growing, organic gooey statue.

                We woke up at a fairly normal time the next day and lingered over breakfast before heading up Burnaby Mountain to orient ourselves.  There were totem-like carvings of animals, people and abstract sculpture from a Japanese artist there (Burnaby is twinned with a Japanese city) as well as a living statue of moss and goo, very organic.  Elaine pointed out geographic points of interest around the greater Vancouver area as well as extolling the virtues of tobogganing down the park’s steep hills.  Back at her place, we visited with her son’s family (parents, a 3-year old and a baby).  The parents were both teachers (as is Elaine), so of obviously fine genetic stock.   The kids kept everyone busy and the adults helped themselves to plates of brownies and potato fritters to keep their energy up.  Meg has to work on her dreaded assignment so Elaine and Owen went to the nearby (and empty) tennis courts for an epic battle.  The evening was spent eating BBQ and learning how to play an intriguing award-winning German game whose name escapes me (Carcosse?) that we got hooked on during our stay there.

Meg shows her brave face crossing the bridge.

Elaine and I traversing treetops.

                Friday was tourist day, so off we went north of the city to the famous Capulano Suspension Bridge.  All three of us professed to not being great about heights, so we were braced for the worst.  It’s a fairly expensive ($30) admission, but we got a few hours’ entertainment and education out of it.  The starting area has some historical displays and costumed summer student waving at people or playing folk songs of dubious authenticity. We zipped over to the bridge, which we crossed with firm grips on the railings and no screams or desires to turn back.  We found we were more likely to get seasick than phobic on the thing as it did sway freely under the dozens of tourist feet continually traversing it (it can apparently hold 1200 people- but we did not test this out).  If the bridge were the entire attraction, then it would be a 15 minute roadside stop, but more was to come.  There was a treetops walk staffed by a costumed lad who was smilingly unable to answer any of our questions.  We then walked from tree to tree using rope and board bridges which did not nearly sway as much as their forbearer did.  The views were stunning and Elaine kept us enthralled with First Nations myths such as why the creator gave sumacs the smallest cones and how squirrels got trapped in pine cones.  The next stroll was along a boardwalk on the ground, where we saw a bird of prey with its owner and a pond of trout.  Multiple signs forbade us from defacing the boardwalk with graffiti or jackknives. 

Hanging off of the cliff face.

                Back across the bridge, we followed the CliffWalk, which was a walkway along the side of the cliff.  If you were brave enough you could look beneath your feet for at least four straight stories down. One section curved credible out over the trees and water and two platforms with Plexiglas floors.  Elaine was cured of her fears (if it was a miracle, we’ll take credit for it…) I had a firm grip on the steel railing and Meg wisely kept close to the rock face.  The path back to the main area had some good info on erosion and water conservation and the gift shop was exactly what you’d expect.

                Next stop was a picnic in a wooded park area before heading to a salmon hatchery.  The location was beautiful and the displays were decent but most of the functioning plant could only be viewed at a distance behind chain link fence.  Most impressive was the underwater viewing area of the fish ladder, as the salmon were running.  We could see them treading water (so to speak) sitting in the current through the lower steps, but if you peeked around the corner you could see the fish at the top flinging themselves out of the water continuously and seemingly futilely at a side wall. This wasn’t a delicate little hop or jump, these little  guys were throwing themselves bodily out of the water, sideways- what incredible strength and determination it took the poor salmon to get to the top of the water fall (it will be hard for me(Meg) to eat salmon again).

Contemplating life at lighthouse park.

                Meg decided to lose consciousness and thus missed the excellent West Vancouver lookout towards the rest of the city from a nearby park.  We then returned to sea level at Lighthouse Park.  A short walk through a forest of gigantic trees led to the coast and rocky outcrops with majestic views of the city and the coastal islands.  Elaine continued to define the west coast geography as the now-awake Meg stared out to sea.  On the path back we were educated by several info stops and followed the coastal road instead of the highway so that we could see what sort of mansions several million dollars can buy these days.



Meg terrorizing babies again.



                After returning home we went with Elaine and Mack to their favourite local place, which served huge portions of pub grub for a very reasonable price.  Meg and I walked back to better orient ourselves (and work off some of our dinner calories) and managed to return to the house intact.  Meg went back to her dreaded assignment and the rest of us chatted upstairs until fairly late.

                We got off to a slow start the next day but had a nice visit with Eric (offspring of Elaine) and his family before they were supposed to go on a trip( they actually delayed due to their newborn’s flu).  A fine quick visit was had and then we returned to Elaine’s with Eric’s huge dog Leo in the car (a golden retriever/elephant mix).   We dragged our feet again and were late getting to Mountain Equipment Co-op.  Meg needed a compact sleeping bag and we picked up a few other camping things (thanks to those who gave us gift cards- you know who you are!), and then Elaine dropped us off at Stanley Park. 

One tiny bit of the seawall.

                We were there to jog the seawall, an 11 km loop by the time we were done with it.  We got separated early, and I though Meg was ahead of me when she was actually behind due to a lengthy washroom line.  The jog was definitely worth it, as the views of the city and surrounding areas kept changing.  You go by statues, splash beaches, under major bridges and by busy sandy beaches (topless sunbathing is legal in Vancouver).  There was even a flowerpot island with a plaque dedicated to some poor guy who dove off of it at low tide.  A beautiful run, with breathtaking scenery, but on the day we did it the sea breeze was absent so it was quite warm.

                Our post-run rendezvous point was outside the aquarium, but by that point it was 90 minutes before closing so we decided to skip it and instead strolled downtown and found a decent Thai place with ultra-attentive service.  For our way home we had to find a bus and Meg found it hilarious that I speculated that a green circle with a picture of a bus in it might be a stop (it wasn’t).  We found a real stop and the bus driver told us just to take a seat when we tried to pay with paper money (not acceptable on BC buses).  Meg wrote him a thank you note (which didn’t implicate him in any way or jeopardize his job) on an old Toronto streetcar transfer she had and we got home safely.  More chatting and another round of the game (Carcosse?), with an expansion pack, before bedtime.

FINALLY leaving Toronto!

July 31

The drive back to Toronto (from Saint John and PEI) was quickened by books on tape and Meg trying to guess the artist on my MP3s.  In Montreal we commiserated with Darrin, Madoka and Zak as they were living in a motel due to their move the next day.  Their new place sounds great (penthouse in NDG) and they were not as put off about moving as we were, having done it every four years or so since they got married.  Practice makes perfect, I guess, but packing and moving are the last things I’d like more practice on, at this point.  A fine meal was had by all at Beni Hana and our table’s chef chimed in with his opinions on our important topic of zombies vs. vampires(who would you stand a better chance in escaping from?).  Everyone wanted to get to bed early, so we did!

                The next day we had lots of time so Meg spent most of it grilling our Algerian B and B owner about politics.  The bed was comfy there but the place was odd, with many basics missing and the owner always appearing at the front door with his arms full of dishes before we could even turn the key.  A nearby park by the St. Lawrence made for a good spot for a run, forcing us to cut through an outdoor church service.

                After showering, we headed to Nat’s mom’s place where Nat’s daughters were visiting (Nat being an old friend who’s known Meg since she was young and reckless).  We had a visit with the adults and then took the girls to the market to get them out of the house and pick up some necessary foodstuffs.  Fresh corn was the big deal, but the Atwater Market is somewhere I haven’t been in years and would be an amazing place to live close to.  Fresh fruit and vegetables, bakers, butchers, cheese shop, flower stalls, and cafes jammed together in excellent busy-ness.  We got some lunch at an Italian Deli before getting the girls’ advice on their mom’s favourite cheese.  Some coffee and croissants for the road and a bottle of wine for later ended our shopping and we deposited the girls back at their grandmother’s to help her renovate her place (horrible child labour, according to them).

                On to Nat’s spouse-free and childless home for an afternoon of catching up, splashing about in the pool and imbibing wine, cheese and new corn into the evening.  We got all the details of the family’s trip to Italy and got to bed with bellies full and heads spinning.

                After breakfast and goodbyes, it was back to Toronto in hideous, end of long weekend congestion.  The traffic was thick almost all of the way from Kemptville to Toronto, and the dangerous idiocy of impatient Torontonians reared its ugly head many times on the road.  Several accidents occurred. We survived, but were justifiably wiped.

                Great thanks to Terry and Margaret for letting us use their house for our last few days in Toronto,   it was truly a godsend.  I’ll spare the reader all of the details of our continuous running around and trying to get everything completed on time.  In the end, almost everything worked out: the car was successfully leased to owners who’ll take care of her; Visas, paperwork and banking were all dealt with, had a few final visits with people and completed our rigorous packing and weighing of bare-bones -11- month luggage.  45 minutes before we left for the airport, we met with Chander (our realtor) to sign papers for renting our house to renters for a year starting August 15.  We were able to leave the car at the airport and thus started our travels.

                We felt like royalty as we boarded the plane with the executive types (ahead of the riff raff) due to my brilliant strategy of pre-booking us in emergency exit seats.  We were so ready for this flight.  We had brought gourmet cheese, olives, crackers and cashews with us to eat instead of paying for cardboard airplane sandwiches.  We bought their wine to accompany our goods and enjoyed the envy of the flight attendants, who weren’t allowed to sample passenger’s food even when offered.  I had picked up some dips and pita, but remembered being told about an airport confiscating peanut butter after a long debate about whether it constituted a gel.  After several calls to the airport to get direction, we put some curried hummus in Meg’s squeezie bottle which looked weird on our bread but tasted fine.  Movies on Westjet are now pay-per-view but TV was free so we wasted our time channel surfing (Fear Factor and Dragon’s Den), occasionally returning to our books.

No great pics this time.  This one's the most representative!