friendly introductions

It was very good to have a real pick-me-up, carefree, even raucous evening to end my most recent trip up to BC. Oh, no worries - I kept things in moderation. Having to be at the airport by 6:30 on a Saturday morning can do that to a guy. The others? Well, a few sore heads and late mornings for them today.

A friend from Chicago, Giuseppe, moved to Vancouver last month. In a nice turn of events, he lives within sight of our place there - he can see into our condo from where he lives, apparently. I shan't comment more on that save to suggest that my sister close the blinds from time to time.

Anyway, not only is Giuseppe there, but his boyfriend, Brian (who swims in my lane) was in town for a conference and a visit. Brian will be in Vancouver himself someday, we hope, but neither he nor Giuseppe know very many people yet. A great opportunity, Friday night.

Marie stuck around, which was nice, and she and I had out a bit of BC red wine, some BC cheese, olives, Raincoast Crisps, walnuts, and dried Okanagan peaches. Two of our favourite Vancouverites, Chris and Sherri, arrived within minutes of each other shortly after 7:30.

it was all we could do not to eat all the cheese right away.

Giuseppe got there about 3/4 of an hour later, bringing along one of the guys from whom he's renting a room, Carl. For my part, I was really delighted to meet someone else from the neighbourhood, and Carl - who was pure fun right off the bat - utterly endeared himself to me when I learned he was born in Prince Rupert.

Carl's partner, Les, came long a little while after that, and he, too, was a super guy. Brian was the last to join us, and by that time, I think we were on to the 4th bottle of red wine (mostly BC).

We finished that one, and by 10 or so, we were at Campagnolo, just down the block.








I hope that they let us come back.

;-)

We were loud. We were having an enormously good time. Food? Incidental (but good - ling cod for me). People had more wine or switched to beer, and I wisely stuck to water and light eating. It was after midnight when I got home.

All in all, quite a night, and so much more and better than I could have guessed. I was just really tickled to have Giuseppe and Brian make some connections in Vancouver.

When next I have to go up, I think we'll head to the west end for fish and chips - Brian won't be with us, but there will be future dates. Did I say fish and chips? We're really going for the deep-fried Mars Bars...

les amis du fromage

A small plug for a great little shop in Vancouver, Les Amis du Fromage. Jennifer was the one who told us about it, I think. Conrad and I have made sure to visit it, and faced with having to get snacks for 8 of us to enjoy with wine last night, I dragged my sister there yesterday afternoon.



The funny thing? I really didn't care for cheese when I was young. What type would I eat? Process cheese slices (or as they call them here - with perverse pride - American cheese) toasted on bread. Melted only.

Not far away is a building I think Conrad still harbours a longing for, Arthur Erickson's waterfall building. We even once looked at a condo there, but no offer. Maybe one day...

driftwood

I had some time to myself this past week, and nothing productive that needed to fill that time. I found myself a few times down at the waterfront, walking and admiring what the sea casts up. Driftwood, logs. Memories of childhood and scrambling over them on the beach in front of my Grandma's place.








And once in a while, looking up, I would notice not the soggy cast-offs of the ocean but the life thriving nearby: an eagle (and another flew by) in a tree in Davis Bay. Look closely.

dining alone

Last night, if you'd read my Facebook status (I know, I know - you have to be my FB friend in the first place), you'd know that the women sitting at the table behind mine in the hotel lounge were far louder and more obnoxious than they had any right to be. The desk clerk and I had a chuckle over the whole thing this evening before dinner. Good food last night, but I couldn't wait to get back to my room.

I should clarify something here - I'm not on vacation in BC. I'm at a lovely hotel on the BC coast, and the whole area is rather special to me, but there's a non-vacation reason for it all, and it's not a topic for this blog. Still, I have to eat, and I have down time to myself. Posts like this are the result.

The first time I ate at the Rockwater Secret Cove Resort, it was Easter, and I was not really thrilled. Silly me, to judge a place by the tail end of an Easter brunch buffet. How could that be good indication? I stayed here last October, then, and in the course of that visit, I needed a night in the room to myself. Room service. Wow. Good food. I was actually a little crushed that one of the items I had that night, a beef carpaccio with a truffle oil mayonnaise, was not on the menu when Conrad and I came up here in December. The December trip was wonky in other ways, thanks to the weather. Funny times.

I really like this place, though. The location suits me very very well. The room is lovely and comfortable, and I'll soon go hop in the HUGE soaker tub. The wine list has some nice BC options. The chef knows his or her stuff. And guess what/ The carpaccio is back!

Yum!

More yum was to follow. I had the pork last night. Dad laughs at how often I eat pork, I think, but it's such good meat. The chop I had last night was very good. Curiously, though, it was the starchy side that drew me back to it tonight. I'll be good and forego carbs after this trip, but I had to have the pork again because I really wanted the gnocchi? Do they make it here? If the restaurant was quiet tonight, I would have poked my head in the kitchen to ask. Alas, they had a big birthday party in another room. The gnocchi melted, though. I'm a little floored by it.

I read my book, Bury the Chains, through dinner, then I brought the remains of my second glass of wine (a Tinhorn Creek Merlot) back to the room. No dessert tonight, though a three-course dinner would only have cost me $29. I'm full, satisfied. I'll be sure to swim in the morning, too.

Mid-March I'm back here again, and perhaps my sister will be in tow. If so, we'll have a good dinner together, and perhaps share a bottle of something. No, it really isn't a vacation, but I know that will be hard to believe. But hey, a guy DOES have to eat!

HA!

To all my friends in the wintry middle of the US (and all other points US that have snow covering the ground) who thinks it's SOOOOO funny to bug me about things in Canada being so much colder, more Arctic, I offer you these photos from this afternoon (in early February) on the coast north of Vancouver.








I also offer you this gentle advice: suck it!

;-)

deluded into thinking it may be spring

Second latte of the morning. I'll be jittery as all get-out by the time I meet up with Dad and Bella.

I'm at my favourite little coffee shop/bakery in Sechelt this morning. I've already done a couple of miles in the pool, checked e-mail, had a burrito for breakfast. Time to get a few photos up on the blog just so people know I'm still actually blogging.

There's not much narrative to add, in fact, just the observation that this stretch of the coast, green as it is, fools me into thinking that spring is upon us. I haven't needed a jacket here yet, just my sweater on (well, and pants, shoes, etc.). It's a little early - even for here - to see flowers. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if someone around here had a crocus or two peeking up through the soil in his or her yard.

I like this part of the province. We spent a lot of summer vacations at my Grandma's (now my Dad's) home up the coast. These shots are from not too far away from that place, taken on the waterfront in front of my hotel. I wish I knew my birds better so that I could identify the large one serenely perched on the rocks.

roadtrip, Champaign-Urbana

I decided it would be fun to wake up and not fall back to sleep. I've just finished writing Monday's swim practice. I almost wish I had work here at home with me. Ah well, blogging will have to suffice.

I don't talk much about work on this blog, and I'm not going to get into it too much here either, but I will note that this was a work-related jaunt south. I had to deliver some rare books to our consortium in Champaign-Urbana (that's two cities, side-by-side, for the non-Illinoisians reading this). I could have done a Monday drive down, I know. Conrad has long wanted us to do this drive together, though, so that he could stop in with me at an antique shop in the little town of Paxton. Fiestaware, of course. Happily, the consortium was willing, as was my boss, and on an altogether sunny, pleasant, mild Saturday, we set out after swim practice.

Full disclosure: after 8 years in Chicago, I still know very little of the rest of the state. Heck, I barely know any of the suburbs. Outside of Chicagoland I've been to Bloomington-Normal once and to Champaign-Urbana about 4 times. That's it. Not even to the state capital, Springfield. I feel a little ashamed of that, I have to say.

We dropped off the books right on time, then drove through downtown Champaign in search of parking and a light lunch. I love college towns like that. They tend to have good services and amenities, they tend to have some attractive buildings and history,

and the campus types are all over the place. The coffee house we ended up in
may not have been the best food in town (we really have no idea), but it was crammed full of younger folk on laptops and earnest-looking grad students. Love it. And I'm not mocking. It's a comfortable setting for me. Hmmmm... should I do a PhD one day?

Onward, back to Chicago. If you've never seen Illinois, understand that it's darn flat. In BC we think, "Ho-hum, another mountain, another tree". In Illinois, the cornfields stretch to the horizon, and there's little change in the landscape otherwise. I drove a spell, and took us into Paxton. Alas, the shop was gone. We stopped in at the Carnegie library and inquired, but all they could do was try the number in the book for us.

Undaunted, we drove on and exited for Gilman.
On the way down, Conrad had seen some old coal elevators and wanted to look at the structures a little more closely. As we passed through Gilman, we came upon a little antique mall that was open. No Fiestaware (and only two pieces of Russel Wright, neither of which we need), but a fun 15 minutes of browsing. We shortly after came about as close to the elevators as we figured we could: the local cemetery. The sun was getting lower in the sky, the shadows from the gravestones, monuments, and trees were lengthening.


Some photos there, then back in the car and bound for home.
The sun set on our trip through the cornfields downstate.