Shuswap Lake

My next Greyhound bus trip takes me north from Penticton, heading for a hostel by the side of Shuswap Lake. Last week Greyhound introduced a directive forbidding all unscheduled stop offs. The scheduled stop is 10km past the hostel in the next town. The hostel owner, Blair, is very accommodating and she says she will pick me up, once she has closed the hostel for the night. So at 10pm I find myself standing by the side of the road between a gas station and a railway siding, wondering if she will come. Fortunatley she is as good as her word and she pulls in within 15 minutes.

Her property consists of an historic general store, with two llamas in the garden and the hostel accommodation which is in converted railway carriages. It is situated right on the shores of Shuswap Lake and is all rather bohemian and rustic, but very charming, in spite of the traffic noise from Highway 1. The trans-Canadian railway runs close by and the sound of the freight trains rumbles through my sleep.

Railway Carriage Accommodation

Inside the Caboose

Shuswap General Store

The lake is right beside the railway carriages  - in fact closer now than a week agao because the water levels are very high from all the recent rain. The dock is floating, whereas in the dry season the water level would be 20' lower. Various communities nearby have had flooding and the trans-Canadian Highway was washed out last week just east of here.

Shuswap Lake

In the morning the guests sit at picnic tables outside, surrounded by flowering orange blossom, while Blair cooks breakfast of delicious fruit pancakes, served with maple syrup.

Blair Cooking Pancakes for Breakfast

I find I am rather limited as to what I can do from here, as there is no public transport and many of the local hiking trails are under water from the recent heavy rain. In my railway carriage there is a Candian woman of about my age, with her 9 year old granddaughter and a family friend. They are going to visit a nearby donkey sanctuary and I am delighted when they ask if I would like to tag along. We find the donkey sanctuary at the end of a beautiful nearby valley. It is a low-key affair and they only have visitors on a few day a week and the lady owner takes time to show us around and introduce us to her 40 or so donkeys. When she finds out I am from Devon she tells me she is a great admirer of the work of Elisabeth Svendson and asks if I know of the donkey sanctuaries in Sidmouth and Ivybridge! There is obviously a world-wide network of donkey rescuers. She has two large white dogs on the property. The breed is quiet and soppy around people, but they guard against bears.

Donkey Sanctuary

Bear Dog

The next day, after the pancake breakfast, Blair is going in the car to a dairy in a nearby town to collect her order and asks if I would like to come for the ride. On the way we chat about lots of things and I learn a lot about what it is like to live and work in the area and something of the native Shuswap people and the problems of integration. The diary makes its own ice-cream in a fantastic array of flavours.  I have an enormous cone of raspberry cheesecake flavour. Now I have 2 enormous pancakes and maple syrup for breakfast and 3 hours later I have had an enormous ice cream for lunch. With this eating and the lack of hiking, I think I will definitely be putting on some of the weight I lost in New Zealand.

We are then going to stop at a local thrift store (charity shop) for Blair to drop off some stuff. She explains that the store is very well supported by the local community. It started after there was a big local forest fire and people had to be evacuated from their homes. Local people donated all sorts of things to help these families and there was enough to fill a hockey stadium. When the evacuees had what they needed there was still a whole bunch of stuff left over, so they sold everything for 25 cents. You could buy a fork, or even a bed for 25c. Now they have certain days where you can fill a whole grocery bag for $2. It is a bustling place where the car park is full of people driving up and dropping off furniture.

Thrift Store

I take a look around and buy a few books - a couple of novels by Canadian authors, as I am getting through my reading material pretty fast on the bus trips and a funny book called, 'How to be a Canadian'. While I am standing by the car waiting for Blair I make a start on this one and chuckle to myself. Here's a few excepts from the first few pages that made me laugh:

There are 30 000 000 people in Canada - all of whom have, at some point frozen their tongues to the side of a chainlink fence or flagpole. Even though their mothers told them not to. Indeed at any given time of year, it is winter somehere in Canada and someone, somewhere is stuck to a flagpole. 'Hap me, hap me. Tumbuddy, pwease hap me.'

In defiance of both Einstein and the space-time continuum, hockey in Canada now lasts sixteen months a year. The playoffs stretch things out even further. Glaciers move faster than the standard NHL season. There are teams with sideburns and disco hairdos still circling the ice trying to finish off the 1974 series.

I could bore you with more, and I probably will later, but for now that's enough because maybe you have to be here, so I'll settle down in a chair in the garden for the afternoon and giggle gently to myself.

Vancouver to Penticton

I return to Vancouver from Whistler and the first thing I do is go to the post office and collect my driver's licence. I am now free to leave Vancouver and I make my plans for the next part of my trip, before Brigitte and I meet up again in the Rockies in about 10 days' time. For now I am travelling by Greyhound bus, so am restricted to where the buses go and their schedules. Getting to grips with this is not so straightforward, but the hours I have spent hours putting various routes into their website are beginning to pay off. To begin with I am going to head east from Vancouver to the Okanagan Valley, which is an area of lakes, with a hot dry climate that allows wine production and fruit growing. And the city of Penticton that I am going to stay in for a few nights has an Elvis competition this weekend, so I will be very excited if I meet Elvises on the street!

So the next day I am back at the main station, this time waiting for my first long-distance bus.

Inside the Main Station in Vancouver

The journey will be 7 hours. I spend the journey finishing my book and writing a long letter to Katie, which is a mixture of a commentary on the journey and random other thoughts. It is almost a real-time minute-by-minute description and will take her the best part of 7 hours to read it. The book I’m reading has been interesting; as most of my random selections made from book exchanges in hostels and camp sites have been. It is almost as if books chose me, rather than the other way around and I have read many things and genre that I would not normally choose at home. I wish I had kept a list of the books I have read, because I have a hopeless memory for authors and titles. Most of my attempts to describe a book I have enjoyed go something like this, ‘I have just read a good book. It was called….. oh I can’t remember. It was by….. oh I can’t remember. It was about…. darn it!’ Anyway, having just finished this one I can tell you about it. It is called, ‘Six Months in Sudan’ and is a memoir of a young Canadian doctor, called James Maskalyk, who volunteered to work for Medecin Sans Frontier in a war-torn village in Sudan. It was quite a challenge for me because of the subject matter – not too much in the way of injuries from the conflict, but a lot of heart-rending stuff about babies dying of malnutrition and measles and women dying in child birth. I was also interested in the format of the book, because it started as his blog and then narrative was added to turn into a book after he got home. That resonates with the eensiest-teensiest glimmer of an idea I have been carrying around with me for some while; but I am almost too shy even to hint at it.

The first part of the journey is not very interesting, just highway and small towns with shopping malls and then flat farm land. The road goes just north of and parallel to the US border. At one point I see a sign that says ‘US border 3km’. Many small Canadian towns look like our retail parks - wide, straight streets; traffic lights; a line of shops around a parking lot (listen to me talking like a local), usually with a Starbucks on each corner.

After a couple of hours the road turns north and travels and as it climbs into a valley the scenery gets quite spectacular. We travel alongside a fast-flowing river and a sign by the side of the road says, 'Chain up area'. This is Highway 1, which is the main trans-Canadian road. It is a 6 lane road (3 in each direction) but we are going through some pretty remote countryside and climbing steeply into rain and mist and before long there are patches of snow by the side of the road and on the hills.

Next the scenery has opens out into a wide valley, with the town of Merritt, sitting there, where we make a short stop. There is some cattle in fields here – the first I have seen in Canada I think. There is so little usable farmland for crops or cattle in the parts of British Columbia that I have seen so far – it is mostly so steep that only trees can be farmed.

Soon we start to go down and down out of the mountains and the mist and now we are in a valley with a huge lake. This is the Okanagan Valley and although it has been raining here, it is obviously generally a much drier climate, as the opposite side of the lake is a more barren hillside and there are dry, scrubby plants at the side of the road.

Okanagan Lake from the Bus

When I get off the bus at the terminal at Penticton I learn something else about bus travel and that is that if you travel by bus on a rainy day, your backpack in the luggage compartment will get wet and anything inside, that is not in waterproof bags will be wet too - such as my pyjamas that I stuffed in at the last minute!

The hostel I am staying in is just a short walk up the road and is in a heritage building, dating from 1912, when it used to be a boarding house. The sign post in the garden has such directions and distances as: Okanagan Lake 1km; US border 60km; Quebec 3412km; London 7209km. This helps me appreciate the vast width of Canada – Quebec is almost halfway to London and that isn’t even as far east as you can go in Canada – Nova Scotia and Newfoundland are further east!

Penticton Hostel

There is a more diverse mix of people staying in this hostel than I experienced in the hostels in Vancouver and Whistler. For sure there are the usual young European travelers, but over the 3 days I am here I also meet a young English guy who is here to pick fruit, who says that standing in a tree picking cherries while the sun comes up is the best job in the world; a man from Quebec who gets amiably drunk on his National Day and sings in French; a guy who has driven his motorbike 2000km from Yukon Territory; a guy who is on leave from working as an electrician in an oil field way up north in Alberta; a woman from Vancouver Island who is here to do a Bowen Technique course and a couple from Vancouver of Chinese origin who are on holiday and have given up their tent for a couple of nights in the hostel because of the rain.

The city of Penticton sits on an area of flat land between two lakes. That afternoon I go for a wander around the town and to the downtown lakefront to get my bearings and see if I can soak up some of the festival atmosphere. As well as the Elvis Festival there is a vintage car festival called ‘Peach City Beach Cruise’. The lakeside setting of the town is beautiful and gorgeous vintage cars are parked all along the promenade.

Lakeside

Lakeside Sculpture

Beach Cruisers

As I wander along I catch snatches of conversations about car-related man-stuff, but here is a picture of a car in my favourite colour!

Turquoise Car

The main Elvis events are going on in the conference centre and the tickets are pretty expensive, but for $2 I go into a park and spend an enjoyable hour watching an Elvis tribute band and the crowd. Unfortunately he is the only Elvis I see in town.

Crowd in the Park

Elvis Tribute

The next day I take a walk out of the city and up to a high point which gives good views over the surrounding countryside and down to the city and its two lakes. Here there are many orchards and I see apples, pears, cherries and peaches growing. There are also a lot of grapes grown here and increasingly the land use is changing from orchards vineyards.

Orchard and Vineyard Country

Me and View of Penticton

As I am walking back to the city I notice a young deer standing totally still in an orchard.

Deer in an Orchard

Back downtown I stop for a cup of tea and sit outside  a cafe listening to a funky group of buskers.

Buskers

Back at the hostel someone asks me if I saw a rattlesnake on the hill. He is not joking. Now I have rattlesnakes, bears and cougars to worry about.

Before I leave Penticton I want to visit the second lake at the south end of the city. As I walk there I pass a sign for a sports club - that is a new one on me. I also snigger in the superior way that those who understand punctuation can, that the club is obviously struggling and has only 1 member.

Penticton Horse Shoe Pitcher’s Club

School Outing at the Beach at Skaha Lake

Down at the lake side the only activity is a school outing on the beach. The children are running around in their bathing suits and having a good time, even though the day is overcast and not very warm. The whole time I have been here everyone has been commenting on the weather. The region is famous for its hot, dry weather, but they have had rain here for weeks and rather than the temperature being in the usual high 30s, it is more like low 20s.

I walk back to town along the river channel which links the two lakes. Apparently the local summer pastime is to float along the 7km or so between the lakes on a rubber ring or other craft. Another sign of the bad weather here is that I haven’t seen anyone doing this.  

Okanagan River Channel

Whistler

Vancouver Pacific Central Station

I catch my first Greyhound bus, from the main station in Vancouver to Whistler. The 2 ½ journey goes north from Vancouver, initially along the coastal inlet that I have already become familiar with and then, after a short stop in the rather dismal-looking small town of Squamish, the road starts to climb through forests towards the mountains.

Whistler is a year-round destination. It is a ski resort in winter, famous as a venue for the 2010 Winter Olympics, and a mountain bike mecca and general outdoor and adrenaline-fuelled playground in the summer. The town is made up of several separate locations strung along the valley and around some picturesque lakes. The smart hostel I am booked into is about 8km out of the main village centre, in an area that is still being developed, but is well connected to the centre with buses and a cycle path. There are half empty apartment blocks and cleared sections of ground that have yet to be built on. It is almost as if the development has come to a halt for now.  

Whistler Hostel

The purpose-built village centre is a bustling place of hotels, rather upmarket shops, bars and restaurants. It is a good place to sit in the sun and watch the world go by.

Whistler Village

Now that the ski season has ended the slopes are transformed into downhill mountain bike tracks and the chair lifts are adapted to carry bikes. I stand at the bottom of the slope and watch the riders hurtle downhill and then queue up again to get the lift back to the top. There are stations for bike washing with high-pressure hoses, bike repairs and places to hire bikes and protective equipment.

Mountain Bike Park

At the other end of the village is the Olympic Plaza, where the medals were awarded and tourists pose for their photo with the Olympic Rings.

Olympic Rings

In the hostel I share a room with a Dutch girl called Brigitte and as it is a beautiful clear day, we decide to spend the day together to ride the cable cars. There is a first cable car to the top of Whistler Mountain (1850m) and then the Peak to Peak gondola which links Whistler with Blackcomb Mountain. This claims 3 world records: the longest unsupported span in the world; the highest lift of its kind in the world at 436m above the valley floor and the longest continuous lift system.

Cable Car to Whistler Mountain

Whistler Mountain

Peak to Peak Gondola

Whistler Village from Blackcomb Mountain

Up on Blackcomb Mountain there are miles and miles of hiking trails – but not accessible yet, because even though there is not enough snow for skiing, there is too much for hiking. This is disappointing, but the cable car ride was worth it for the view.

Once down off the mountain down off the mountain we take a walk along some of the many paths and bike tracks to a nearby lake, where people relax on the grass.

Whistler is home to black bears and there is advice everywhere about being ‘bear aware’. This makes me rather nervous, and has so far restricted my hiking, but the locals seem cool with it. If young mothers will push babies in prams along the paths, then the risk can’t be too high.

Lost Lake

The next day I rent a bicycle from the hostel and take advantage of the well laid-out bike paths to explore some more of the local lakes. I still don't see a bear.

Alta Lake

Tomorrow I return to Vancouver, where hopefully my driver’s licence will be waiting for me at the post office. Brigitte and I arrange to meet up again in the Rockies in a couple of weeks’ time.

Vancouver Revisited

On Saturday Gordie drops me at a hostel and we say our goodbyes (for now?) The hostel is in an old barracks building and is in a nice  location out of town at Jericho Beach.

Hostel at Jericho Beach

I am planning to stay in Vancouver for a couple more days, to do a bit more sightseeing and because I am waiting for the main post office to open on Monday, so that I can collect some post that Katie has sent me, before I move on from here. After my burglary in New Zealand I was left with only 1 functioning credit card, so a 2^nd one is now on its way to me. The other thing I am expecting is a new driver’s licence. I had hoped to be the last person in England left with the old-style paper licence, but that wasn’t to be. However I was impressed with the process of applying for a replacement one. My photograph and signature could be captured digitally from my passport and Katie received my new one within a week.

It is raining heavily and I spend most of the day around the hostel getting used to the idea of being a single traveller again and recognising the effort required, but the freedom to make my own decisions and plans. Later in the afternoon it stops raining, although it is still overcast and threatening to rain and I venture out for some fresh air and to stretch my legs. I follow the waterfront for about an hour and a half towards the city until I am right across the water from Downtown. The weather and my mood reflect each other.

Downtown Vancouver from Vanier Park

The next day the weather and I are much sunnier and I take a bus to Stanley Park to mix with the Vancouverites and tourists at leisure on a Sunday.

Stanley Park is the largest urban park in North America. It is located on a small peninsular, jutting out into the sea. Much of the interior is a semi wilderness of rainforest. The main attraction seems to be the 8km circuit around the perimetre and I join the many cyclists, skaters and walkers parading at various speeds anticlockwise around the seawall. This gives great views out across the water in all directions – to Downtown, across the strait to the Northshore, down the strait and then back across to Jericho Beach where my hostel is. Here are some pictures of the changing views as I walk:

Downtown Vancouver from Stanley Park

Totem Poles in Stanley Park

Tourist Transport in Stanley Park

Piles of Sulphar in the Docks

Container Port

Girl in a Wetsuit Statue

Lions Gate Bridge

Third Beach

Dancers on the Beach

Cairns

When I have completed the circuit of the park I feel like continuing to walk and carry on back towards the city along the shore of English Bay. Being closer to the city, it is even busier here, with Sunday strollers and the more serious physical enthusiasts are playing beach volleyball and roller hockey. A street is closed to traffic and has a lively market.

English Bay

At a busy road junction there is a sculpture of laughing men, and tourists take pictures of themselves and children hang onto their hands. Everyone is laughing.

Laughing Men Sculpture

I take one of the small ferries across False Creek to Granville Island and mingle with the crowds in the market and on the open air decks where buskers play.

False Creek Ferries

On Monday I take a bus Downtown on my mission to the main post office to collect my post, but when I get there only one of the two envelopes has arrived. I now have a back-up credit card; but still no driver’s licence. What to do now? I have no idea how long it will take to come. I take some time to decide that I will leave Vancouver tomorrow and travel to Whistler for a few days, which is a 2 ½ hour bus ride north. I’ll then come back into the city on Friday and hopefully the missing driver’s licence will be here by then. If it hasn’t arrived, I’ll worry about that then. In the meantime, I’ll do some more touristy things in the city. I wander down to Canada Place, which is where the cruise ships arrive in Vancouver and then along the street past the original railway station.

Downtown from Canada Place

Central Pacific Railway Station

Next I go up in a lift to the Vancouver Lookout to get a 360 degree panorama of the city.

Downtown and Stanley Park from Vancouver Lookout

Just along the street is Gastown, which is an attractive, if slightly tacky, pseudo Victorian area, whose main attraction is a steam-powered clock. Tourists hang around waiting for 4 o'clock when the clock lets out four little toots.

Steam Clock in Gastown

I have the time and the energy for one more tourist stop. Consulting my guide book I now head for a Chinese garden on the edge of China Town. As I walk the tourist area turns into a more edgy district, where people on the street are talking to themselves and flinging their arms around. I think this is the area Gordie told me to avoid. While I am looking at my map a nice woman asks me if I need help and she advices me not to go through the park and points me in the right direction.

This is an authentic replica of a classical Chinese scholar's garden and is the first to be constructed outside of China, using materials shipped from China. It is a little oasis of calm.

Chinese Garden

I take the Sky Train for the first time for the first part of my journey back to my hostel. While I am trying to make sense of the ticket machine an amiable bum tries to sell me his ticket for $1. He is standing next to  anotice which says that it is illegal to resell your ticket. I tell him I would rather buy my own and he says he could really use a dollar. He helps me with the machine and I give him $2.

Some observations of Canada:

Traffic can turn right on a red light, if it is safe to do so

Pedestrians have right-of-way at an intersaection with no lights

Tipping at least 10% is the norm, even for a beer in a bar

The printed text on all packaging is in both English and French