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Life in BC

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidAll journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.

Martin Buber

Time for some reflections on our recent sojourn in British Columbia.

The first thing to say is how very deeply grateful we are to our dear friends in Saanichton. They once again took us into their home, fed us, entertained and cared for us. They invited us to share their family Christmas – for which they cooked a magnificent dinner – and they laid on a splendid party at the New Year which was – in large part – also a celebration of my 60th birthday. They lent us vehicles regardless of their own convenience, including one for our four-day jaunt up-island. They went – as they always do – above and beyond at every conceivable juncture and I fear that we did not sufficiently express or demonstrate our gratitude. We will make up for this on future occasions. They are very special people and we wish them endlessly well.

The whole expedition to BC was quite amazing and most enjoyable. It was good to be able to visit friends and relatives in Kamloops, Victoria, Duncan and Nanaimo – as well as to be able to enjoy our celebratory down-time in Tofino. It had been a long eighteen months since my last visit to the province and there was much catching up to do…

…almost too much – though that perhaps sounds ungrateful, which I am most definitely not. When in BC I always find myself – with one eye on the future – trying to imagine the life that we will lead when we have finally moved to Canada. The demands of friends and family – though always most welcome – obfuscate to an extent the true picture of how life will be when each day is simply ‘normal’ rather than being a special occasion.

What is beyond question is that the Kickass Canada Girl and I find ourselves – with each visit – not only more certain of where we intend to end up (almost to the block!) but also more ready than ever to find ourselves there sooner rather than later. I am – however – all too aware of the dangers of wishing away one’s life so I will say no more.

I spent some time this trip re-visiting what have already become favoured haunts around the peninsular – the Inn at the Brentwood Lodge, Russell Books in downtown Victoria itself and Serious Coffee in Sidney… The Girl is in agreement incidentally – regarding the latter – that they brew the finest cup of Joe on the island, if not in the province… and I just love the whole West Coast ambiance.

One small incidental sadness – Orr’s Family Butcher – which used to be in Brentwood Bay and on which I commented here – is no more. They seem to have embarked on an expansion project that was possibly ill-timed. I – for one – will mourn their loss.

So much for looking back though. In the next post I will concentrate on things to come…

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Twilight drops her curtain down, and pins it with a star.

Lucy Maud Montgomery

Sitting in Vancouver International waiting for the flight home is always a sad time. We have said goodbye and many, many, many thanks to all of our dear friends in Victoria and must now wend our weary way back to the UK, to be thrown immediately into the maelstrom of work. The Kickass Canada Girl has discovered that her charity is to be inspected almost immediately on our return – so clearly little recovery time will afforded to us.

Hey ho!

I will reflect more on the totality of this trip later. For now a few final sunset images…

 

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Herewith a collection of images of favourite coastal locations on the southern shores of Vancouver Island.

These of Sidney – on the east coast of the Saanich peninsula.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

These are of Brentwood Bay – another of my favourite spots on the peninsula.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

And these – finally – are of Tofino…

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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Festal cheer

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidEach age has deemed the new-born year
The fittest time for festal cheer.

Walter Scott

First and foremost I should take this opportunity to wish the gentle reader – both regular and occasional – the Happiest of New Years. May your 2014 improve upon 2013 in every way.

Here in Victoria we were greatly blessed to be able pass the turn of the year with excellent companions – both our lovely friends from Saanichton and their sons, as well as other wonderful people to whom the Kickass Canada Girl has introduced me over the past half decade and more.

I was personally also greatly honoured that our dear friends chose to make the evening a double celebration, having prepared a splendid West Coast repast in honour of my birthday. This epicurean feast culminated in a gorgeous birthday cake of such sensual delight that it almost makes one wonder if the experience of consuming said ambrosial confection might actually be better than sex! Hmmm! Almost – but not quite…

These dear friends had also clubbed together to present me with something that I have coveted for quite some time  now… a nautical chart book covering the Gulf Islands. We may not yet live in BC – I may not yet have a boat – but I can at least get to work studying the charts of the waters that I will soon – with all good fortune – be sailing.

Happy New Year!

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Hard to take…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidIt may seem somewhat hypocritical for someone who recently wrote a piece on envy to do what I am about to do – to wax lyrical about our sojourn in Tofino celebrating my sixtieth birthday – but I fear that on this occasion I intend being entirely shameless with regard to this grevious lapse – claiming the prerogative of recently acquired age for so doing (even though my actual birthday is not for another week or so).

Our room at the wonderful Wickaninnish Inn is at one corner of the building and has four picture windows on two sides overlooking the ocean. One can lay in bed watching the dawn evolve slowly over the breaking waves, warmed by the gas coal fire which fills the space between the two windows in front of the bed.

The slate-lined bathroom has a soaker tub large enough for two bodies to lay side by side and also looks out over the ocean. Blissful hours can be spent simply gazing at the ever-changing sea. It is quite a wrench to leave the room at all, but not to do so is to miss out on the other delights that the ‘Wick’ – as the locals know it – has to offer.

There is a fitness room overlooking Chesterman beach. There is a gorgeous spa in which we indulged ourselves with a lovely Hawaian-style ‘Lomi Lomi’ treatment – one of the best massages I have had in a good long while.

There is also – naturally – a splendid restaurant at which we officially celebrated my entering a seventh decade. The excellent tasting menu included two world-class courses – one of Sablefish and the other a blood orange dessert – whilst our passionately knowledgable server introduced us to a wonderful and previously unknown (to us) BC Pinot Noir from the Foxtrot vineyard in Naramata. Yummy!

The restaurant bar also holds one of the best collections of single malts that I have seen outside the Auld Country and we felt obliged to finish the evening with a short tasting flight of some of its rarities.

All in all a wonderful few days’ rest and relaxation, and very difficult to leave.

 

You may be glad to hear – however – that karma has a way of keeping one’s feet firmly on the ground even when one is flying close to bounds of heaven. The Kickass Canada Girl and I have both contracted colds! This is hardly surprising – I suppose – given that – a) it is winter – b) we have just fully relaxed for the first time since September – and c) we have been staying in a house with our dear friends’ two young sons!

Further karmic justice was delivered by means of a rare blogging-related accident. I was laying on my back on the bed with the iThing propped on my chest checking my previous post when I lost control (physically!) of the device and it fell forward and struck me smartly – with the edge of the glass screen – full on the bridge of my nose… leaving me with a painful and embarrassingly visible wound…

Welcome back to the real world!

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OMG!

Is this possibly the most beautiful place on the planet?

These photos were (mostly) taken from the windows of our room at the Wickaninnish Inn at Tofino whence we have come to celebrate my sixtieth birthday.

Further words are not necessary…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Once again, we come to the Holiday Season, a deeply religious time that each of us observes, in his own way, by going to the mall of his choice.

DaveBarry 

In Victoria – whence we travel tomorrow – the temperature is a relatively balmy 3-5 degrees Celsius and any snow that has fallen will doubtless vanish within a day or so. Here in Kamloops, on the other hand – where we commenced our Canadian Odyssey – the temperature on day one was a brisk -7C – and considerably less than that once wind-chill was taken into account.

Preparations for Christmas are well in hand…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Photo by Rob Masefield on Flickr…of Canada – I fear that I am somewhat tardy in offering my heartfelt congratulations to Rugby Canada for being the first national side – outside those that do so automatically – to qualify for the next Rugby World Cup, which takes place in England in 2015. That this was achieved by beating the USA must – I imagine – render the achievement all the more sweet!

Canada joins Pool C – which already comprises France, Ireland and Italy and to which one other qualifying nation – in this case from Europe – will be added. Canada have only once reached the knock-out stages of the competition – as long ago as 1991 – but these would seem to be exciting times for the development of the game across the water, so we have great hopes.

At the moment it seems probable that the Kickass Canada Girl and I will still be in the UK come the 2015 World Cup, and since all of the Scotland Pool games appear to be taking place at the far end of these sainted islands we will do our damndest to get to at least one of the Canada matches.

 

On the subject of Canadian rugby – the Girl and I are already contemplating to which of the Victorian clubs we should pledge our allegiance when we relocate to BC. Our requirements are:

  • an enthusiastic club with a good Corinthian spirit dedicated to running rugby.
  • a welcoming clubhouse with a decent selection of malts.
  • a friendly group of supporters.
  • good craic!

We would be very happy to receive your recommendations.

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Photo by KTSquareFor a blog that carries – as the tagline on its masthead – the apothegm “Coming to Canada” – this site has been of late remarkably free of any content actually relating to that fair country. Well – that’s about to change!

The Imperceptible Immigrant and the Kickass Canada Girl are proud to announce the details of their Winter 2013/14 Canadian Tour – featuring appearances in Vancouver (briefly!), Kamloops, Victoria, Nanaimo, Duncan (to be confirmed!) and Tofino (for the Big Birthday Bash!).

The intrepid duo will be bringing their particular brand of charm to the beautiful province of British Columbia from December 18th this year – determined not to leave until Christmas, the New Year and the Big Birthday itself have been well and truly celebrated. And if that means staying until the 6th January 2014 – then so be it!

The flights have been booked – the fan club alerted – the Girl has started planning her packing and the days, hours and minutes are being counted.

We can’t wait!

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Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI was intrigued by this item in The Tyee on the recent re-naming of Mount Douglas as ‘PKOLS’. For non-Canadians ‘Mount Doug’ (as it is commonly known) is on the east side of the Saanich peninsular to the north of Victoria and was the site on which – in 1852 – the then governor of Vancouver Island – James Douglas – negotiated a treaty understood to be a promise to the WSÁNEĆ people that they would not be interfered with. PKOLS is held by the WSÁNEĆ nation to be the mountain’s original and true name.

As is seemingly inevitable in this enlightened day and age the article attracted the usual brief storm of comments expressing opinions both in favour of and against the unilateral action that had been taken. This comment in particular caused me to raise an eyebrow:

“History should be respected, whether liked or not, and not appropriated by every group with a new agenda.”

This by way of reference – not as I thought first to the colonial appropriation of a First Nations landmark – but rather to the recent reclamation thereof by the WSÁNEĆ nation. Unless – by chance – the comment was intended to be humorously ironic, then it truly missed the point in spectacular fashion.

All of which cultural imperialism puts me in mind of the Irish playwright, Brian Friel’s, masterpiece – ‘Translations’.

For those who have not seen (or indeed read) this splendid play, the context is that of the British Ordnance Survey of Ireland carried out during the 1830s – a process that involved mapping, renaming and anglicising Ireland, of which the British were at the time – of course – the occupiers. A good explanation of the historical context of the piece can be found here.

Friel claimed that – though the political was impossible to avoid completely – his subject was not the situation in Ireland per se, but that this was “a play about language and only about language”. His interests are in the nature of communication – and the difficulties thereof – between peoples and races.

The play has – at its centre – a quite startling conceit, of the sort that marks out a playwright as belonging to the highest echelons of his profession. The Irish villagers speak only Gaelic and do not understand English. The British Army officers conducting the survey have – naturally – no Gaelic. Neither side can understand the other. The entire cast – however – perform throughout in English! The audience must decide for themselves which language is being spoken at any point. This unexpected inversion only serves to highlight the cultural chasm between the two sides, an inability to communicate that has – almost inevitably – tragic consequences.

Friel’s piece rightly offers no easy answers. It does – however – offer insight into the effects of such cultural colonisation. Insistence on strict maintenance of a native language as a pure act of defiance runs the risk of that language ossifying and become inert. Should that happen the culture that is based upon it will die as surely as had the coloniser set out to destroy it. Language must live and evolve if the culture itself is not simply to become a museum piece – even should that require the assimilation of an alien tongue.

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