Advertisement
July 8th 2009
Sorry people for the lack of photos. I was driving so didn't take so many! So you have a thrilling map to look at instead 😉
Almost heaven
Having slept for, ooh, maybe three hours, I jumped back in Betty Boy and embarked upon the second day of epic driving up through Oregon and into Washington, aiming to be at Auntie Holly’s house in Tacoma by 3.30pm. Pamela said I should arrive at 3.39pm. Fingers crossed.
Hwy 199 took me across country from the coast, into Oregon and onto I-5. Doug, Doug, I am so sorry that I had to miss out on Gold Beach. I was SOOO looking forward to going, but just didn’t have the time. Nonetheless, hwy 199 seriously rivaled 101 in the beauty stakes. It is a gorgeous drive through the redwoods, the road gently twisting and turning through the trees, winding through the valleys and soaring along the side of mountains. The mist clung to the treetops, faintly illuminated by the slowly rising sun. Being 6am the roads were virtually empty. If you can face getting up that early, it is definitely the way to do it. It was heavenly.
Crossing the state line into Oregon, I actually found myself in Almost Heaven. Seriously, nestled in amongst the tall, tall trees, with the clouds tugging at the uppermost branches, was a town (in England we would call it a village, but I’m not sure what Americans say to ‘village’?) called
Almost Heaven. Not cute enough simply in its own existence, as I was driving through the town, a young deer wandered out from the woodland and simply stopped in front of the car. Thank goodness I was driving very slowly and could stop easily. It stood there for several seconds - seemingly not in fear - and then went on its merry way. Talk about a welcome to Oregon!
I can’t really recall the rest of the drive. Pamela just told me to continue 241 miles, which I did. There was definitely more lovely driving, stops for coffee, McDonalds for breakfast, A&W for lunch, a near accident somewhere along the way because the man in front of me was driving too close to the car in front of him and didn’t have enough time to brake, an interesting conversation with a young woman from India who was happy to discuss her financial woes with me. Driving through Portland, I was pleasantly surprised - it looks like a really nice city, which I have often heard it is.
Over the state line in Washington I drove through Vancouver. Talk about confusing. I-5 through Washington was a blur. I was just so happy to finally be there and not to have to drive for too much longer! At 4.39pm, just an hour later than Pamela predicted - thanks to traffic jams and numerous potty breaks - I arrived in Tacoma. Phew.
What a patriotic bunch!
I’ve never been in the States for Fourth of July, the day Americans celebrate their independence from the British. In Tacoma, the Freedom Fair on the waterfront is the centre of festivities. Live music, air shows and pole vaulting (?!?) entertain the star-spangled crowds, whose main objective appeared to be consuming as much food as possible. Burritos, fajitas, chicken chow mein, footlong corn dogs, pizza, hot dogs, burgers, ice cream, elephant ears, funnel cake, chocolate covered frozen bananas, donuts, lemonade, ice tea, rootbeer (a rootbeer garden no less!), more lemonade, a few more corndogs, another fajita. But only one elephant ear. I was curious. I should have known the thing would be huge. Elephants are not small animals. An elephant ear is simply a HUGE dollop of dough, deep-fried and dipped in cinnamon sugar. It was delicious but I could only eat a third of it. But that was after the footlong corn dog and two mugs of lemonade, so no wonder. I was very good and walked home. Victoria, Aunties Margaret and Theresa, you can hopefully appreciate just how good I was walking all the way up that hill on North 30th Street from the water. Uncle LaVerne was very worried that I wouldn’t make it; he and Auntie Holly obviously stayed at home.
The evening comprised a combination of New Year’s Eve fireworks and the last night of the proms. Lots of rousing, patriotic tunes and military music. As the firework shows concluded, so the aroma of BBQs which had been drifting on the breeze since the early morning finally faded away.
O, Canada!
Many years ago I thought about going to university in the States. To help me decide which university I might like to attend, I bought a copy of the Petersen’s guide (I think that was the name) to university. Although it did little to help me choose a college (I ended up staying in England), it was a source of amusement which my mom and I subsequently chuckled over many times. In describing the student body, for each university Petersen’s would explain that there were, for example, students from 62 foreign countries, 48 states … and Canada. Apparently Canada is neither a state nor a foreign country, but occupies a special place somewhere between the two. Lucky Canada!
Auntie Holly and I drove up to Canada yesterday to visit her dear friend, April, who lives on Salt Spring Island, a small island off the coast of Vancouver. I must say the welcome into Canada was by no means as friendly as driving into Oregon. No deer this time. Having handed our American passports to the border guard, the conversation went as follows:
Surly guard: ‘Where do you both live?’
Jenny and Auntie Holly: ‘Tacoma’
Surly guard: ‘You both live in Tacoma?’
Jenny: ‘Well, no, I live in London, England’ (
smiling sweetly, will English accent work its charm here?)
Surly guard (
snarling): ‘You have California plates on the car’
Jenny: ‘I bought the car there’
Surly, snarly guard: ‘The car is yours?’
Jenny: ‘Yes’ (
smiling even more sweetly, face about to break but thinking to herself, well, I just said I bought it so wouldn’t logic dictate that it’s mine??)
Surly, snarly guard: ‘When were you last here?’
Auntie Holly: ‘1994 - my father died and I came with my husband to finish clearing out his home and doing the paperwork….’
Surly, snarly guard (
looking at me): ‘You?’
Jenny: ‘1991’
Surly, snarly guard (
to us both): ‘You haven’t been here for a very long time…?’
(
Jenny and Auntie Holly exchange bemused looks. We are both American, you know, home of the brave, land of the free, we can go, or not go, where we like, can’t we? Didn’t realise there was an obligation to visit Canada regularly)
LONG DRAMATIC PAUSE
Jenny: ‘Um….’ (
Did she really want us to tell her why we hadn’t been to Canada for over 15 years? It would have been a very long conversation)
Auntie Holly: ‘Er….’
Surly, snarly guard: ‘Why are you coming now?’
Auntie Holly: ‘I have a very dear friend who lives on Salt Spring Island, well actually, I was very good friends with her mother, but her mother passed away, and I would like my niece to meet my friend…’ (
more sweet smiles)
Surly, snarly guard: ‘How long will you be here?’
Jenny and Auntie Holly (
in unison, terrified we are not going to be let in): Until Saturday.
Surly, snarly, snappy guard: ‘That’s not long…Do you have anything you are going to leave or sell whilst in Canada?’
Jenny and Auntie Holly: ‘No’ (
rapidly wondering if we actually wanted to go to Canada at all at this point)
Surly, snarly, snappy guard: ‘No cigarettes, alcohol, firearms?’
Jenny and Auntie Holly: ‘No’ (
thinking about the two bottles of wine in the trunk…)
Then she returned our passports and we drove off, very slowly, just in case she changed her mind and sent men with guns after us. Don’t want to get into trouble. It was the most peculiar reception into a country - even the Russian border guards I met were friendly than this woman. Thank goodness I have been to Canada before and know Canadians - they and their country is lovely.
The rest of the day was spent ferry hopping, from Tsawassen to Swartz Bay on Vancouver Island and a connecting ferry to Founder Harbour on Salt Spring Island. It is undeniably one of the prettiest places on earth. The part of me which yearns for a quiet life close to nature already resides on Vancouver Island. The rest of me is itching to get back to the hustle bustle of London! Coming off the ferry in Salt Spring, we followed April’s directions, missing only one turning and making a, um, slight detour around most of the island. Although we had almost a full tank of gas and were never more than about half a mile from a farm or house, Auntie Holly stuck to her city roots and got very concerned that we would never be found out in the toolies! As I am not writing from Betty Boy, you can gather that we arrived at April’s house in good time for wine and dinner. I cannot begin to describe her house, only to say that it is the most beautiful home I have ever visited, with the exception of her previous home where I stayed in 1991. A woman after my own heart.
I am now looking out at the rain and wondering whether it is really too wet to go for a run. Maybe later 😊
p.s. did I tell you that in the past six days I have also been to Lebanon? Just saw that on the map. And there was you thinking this was just a trip around the States!
Advertisement
Tot: 0.166s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 8; qc: 48; dbt: 0.0684s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
AMags
non-member comment
Saltspring Island
Hello you two! Hope you are having a wonderful time. Just let the magic of the island seep in. I'm never sure if Saltspring or Gabriola is my favourite island. Thinking of you both all the time and all the wonderful chats you must be having, catching up on news, and getting to know each other as adults. All is well here, not much sun this week, but at least it's not as dreadfully humid as it was last week. Will call on Sunday, during your morning. Lots of love from both of us.