American Thanksgiving

Geoff and Melissa have lived in the States for twelve years.  We've shared many holidays with them but never Thanksgiving; probably because the American version (last Thursday in November) doesn't fall on the same date as the Canadian one (second Monday in October).  This year we decided to celebrate my favourite holiday twice.

We flew from Calgary on November 19th and pretty much waltzed through security and customs.  We knew that this week was the busiest travel week in the States so were relieved that that chaos had not yet spilled into Canada.  Geoff and Elijah met us while Melissa and Miles cleaned house.  We had a wonderful pork roast dinner waiting when we arrived at their home.

Sunday was a big day for Elijah as he was baptized.  He had come to the decision on his own having formed a relationship with God at the tender age of four.  The pastor introduced him to the congregation as the future pastor of the church and no one could dispute this after hearing him speak.  He told of how he felt about the baptism saying he was afraid of getting water up his nose but not afraid of speaking of his faith before an audience.  He and Geoff left to get changed into their swimsuits then we met at the pool.  Since the church rents a high school for its services, this meant walking down the hall after picking up Miles at Sunday school.

As the congregation gathered in the bleachers, the youth pastor and Geoff supported Elijah as he spoke again of finding his faith.  The baptism was quick and Elijah did NOT get water up his nose.  Geoff beamed with pride as they left the pool.  I suggested that Elijah choose his baptism supper and he wanted lamb and green (mint) jelly.  So Geoff and I went off shopping.  We also bought all the fixings for Thanksgiving.

Monday, the kids had school so I joined Melissa in taking them there.  We then went on some errands, first letterboxing at her library.  She had hidden a hand-carved stamp of Mr. Tumnus which I found.  I had brought my personal stamp with me so could record my find in the stamp's logbook.  It's a fun hobby that gets you to places you might never go.  It was my 10th find so I now have a blue ribbon on my Atlas Quest webpage (Melissa has over 100 finds).  We also checked out a box she had planted that may have gone missing.  It had been tucked into a brick wall and landscapers must have thrown it away when they repaired it.  She had to re-carve the stamp and we planted it again later in the week.  Tuesday, I did another letterbox at a nearby coffee shop, Carino Coffee, and enjoyed a Pumpkin Chai Latté.

Wednesday, the kids were on holiday so Geoff took the car to Boulder (he normally spends 2 hours on the bus).  We walked to Southlands Mall and did some shopping.  I bought four Hollyberry Candles at the Yankee Candle there.  They make the best ones and it is a scent almost impossible to buy in Canada.  While the kids napped after lunch, I made Geoff's version of cranberry sauce and began preparations for Glen's Mom's jellied cranberry salad (a request from Geoff).  I didn't have my recipe with me but I think I nailed it (I've made it for at least 35 Christmas dinners so you'd think I'd remember it).

Thanksgiving Day dawned warm and sunny.  The pumpkin pie was cooking, the turkey brining, and the dressing prepped so the male Armstrongs headed outside for the traditional football game.  I put my camera on sports mode and went nuts recording the antics of the players.  Chris Taylor had given me an 8 GB memory card for my Canon so I could pound off 325 pictures without blinking an eye (or filling my card).  Then I remembered my Olympus took video so I filmed one of the catches Elijah made and Miles demonstrating how he could roll around in a nylon fire truck.

At 3 pm, we turned on the radio to listen to Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant Massacree then began cooking a Thanksgiving dinner that 'couldn't be beat'.  Everything came together for a wonderful meal enhanced by the arrival of Mr. Kelly and Mrs. Kelly (long story) bearing rolls, pumpkin cheesecake, and chocolate pecan pie.  Elijah wanted everyone to add to Miles' grace so we each said our own words of thanks.  The turkey was delicious as were the bourbon sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, bacon-enhanced gravy, cranberry sauce and salad, all washed down with Beaujolais Nouveau.  After clearing away the dishes, we trooped outside to witness the turning on of the Christmas lights.  After oohing and aahing at the display, we sat down to consume the desserts.  All were delicious although Glen had to eat some of mine as I was too full.

Black Friday begins for some at midnight.  Stores closed for Thanksgiving open, discount their goods, and allow shoppers to begin Christmas shopping on a day most have off.  Opening times vary but all are doing business by very early in the morning.  Glen had agreed to accompany Melissa to find bargains for Christmas.  My dislike of shopping and crowds is renown so I stayed home with Geoff.  As it turned out, all the craziness was over by 9 am when Melissa and Glen hit the stores.  An hour later, they had everything they wanted but Melissa thought I should check out the deals.  I was unsuccessful in getting any bargains but it was fun to partake of this American tradition.

Sunday we left very early to catch our flight knowing it was the busiest travel day of the year.  Geoff dropped us off 2 hours before and we began the process by standing in line to get our boarding passes.  Then we wound our way around the barricades through security.  I had a full body scan for the first time.  By the time we reached the gate, an hour had passed.  We were quickly bundled onto the plane and it left on time.  As we approached Calgary, the pilot warned us there were high chinook winds blowing but most who have flown into our airport have experienced this.  Then he added that we'd have to circle as there was only one runway in use.  As we did so, our plane was buffeted by gusting winds.  As it pitched and yawed, we made our approach.  I was sure a wingtip would touch ground as we landed so breathed a sigh of relief at the gate.  The usually long customs lines were nonexistent but we had to wait at the luggage carousel.  I must ask the question, "Why does it take 30 minutes to unload a tiny plane?" but perhaps the winds were causing problems.  Meg and Mike picked us up and as we drove home, the winds battered us.  It turned out the peak of the storm hit just after we landed and did much damage downtown.  So much so, the city closed the area to traffic and warned people to stay inside.  Here is a video taking of a plane landing at that time.  I am so glad it wasn't ours.

Going to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo

How about you, you, you.  You can come too, too, too.

So goes the song the kids used to sing about the zoo.  Somewhere there was also a mention of buffalo poo which we didn't see when Meg and I went to the zoo with Lynda and Chris.

The Calgary Zoo is unique because it has dinosaurs (not to be confused with Dinosaur Zoo on iTunes for the iPad).  Founded in 1929, it began with 36 mammals and 78 birds (the offspring of 6 black squirrels donated by Toronto have spread across the city).  In 1936, 56 dinosaur sculptures were commissioned and so began the zoo's relationship with these ancient beasts.

However, for our zoo visit (Chris' generous treat), we decided it was too cold to view the Prehistoric Park and so spent our time wandering in and out of the various zoo habitats.  We parked in the North parking lot then crossed the Bow River to St. George's Island where the original zoo was built.  We later learned the West parking lot (and gift shop) closes during the winter months.  

Our first stop was the African Savannah, a nice warm building housing the hippos and giraffes.  The lions were outside napping in the morning sun while the zebras tried to eat breakfast, battling ostriches for fresh hay.  Funnily enough, the ostriches won every fight so the zebras only ate when the giant birds allowed.

Next, we stepped into the TransAlta Rainforest building.  It was very humid.  So much so that the lenses of our cameras fogged up.  Most frustrating.  However, we all got a few shots that were mist-free.  The gorillas were pretty lively and we enjoyed watching a couple playing together.

The Enmax Conservatory was also humid.  There were a few butterflies flitting about the Butterfly room but most were gone for the winter.  We enjoyed the flowers and pumpkin displays then crossed into the original greenhouse with banana and lobster-claw trees, orchids, and other exotic plants.

By this time we were hungry.  Lynda treated us to an early lunch in Kitamba Café.  The school kids came in later so we enjoyed ours in peace.  Lynda and I had homemade vegetable soup that was delicious with a hot dog while Chris and Meg dug into hamburgers and poutine (C) and chili fries (M).

South America beckoned and we enjoyed the antics of the New World Monkeys.  After which, we wandered over to Elephant Crossing (Eurasia) and watched these magnificent creatures play with their toys.  As we wandered the Discovery Trail, we passed cages with macques, snow leopards, and tigers.  The most exciting moment being when we spotted a very active Red Panda.  We also saw the preparations being made for Zoo Lights, an event where the zoo is lit up with Christmas lights.

After the tigers, we retraced our steps and crossed the river to explore the Canadian Wilds with its mountain sheep and goats.  The moose and mule deer could also be seen hiding in the brush.

We were exhausted when we finally hit the new gift shop (it opened two weeks ago) but Lynda and Chris perked up when they saw some items that would suit family and friends.  Meg drove us home--three happy and tired boomers.

Of course, we didn't see everything the zoo offers.  The dinosaurs will have to wait until next time as will the Australian and Creatures of the Night displays.  As with most zoo trips, some animals were asleep while others hid in their dens so we all have an excuse to visit the Calgary Zoo again.

Mountain Adventure

My sister, Lynda, and Chris arrived last week for a brief visit.  Both are avid photographers so we made plans to drive out to Johnston Canyon near Banff.  We've done the hike to the Upper Falls (2.7 kms) many times (see A Weekend in the Mountains blog) when we stay in a nearby campground.  It is an easy walk with self-guiding plaques educating you on the beauties of the canyon (and yes, Glen reads them each time).

Lynda had been to the area before (see Photo Shoot blog) but we didn't hike the trail that day.  This time, despite nursing a healing, broken shoulder, she was determined to photograph more than just the creek near the parking lot.  But first, we wanted to take pictures of the mountain bathed in early morning light.  The crack of dawn was 8:30 am so we actually had a chance to sleep in on Saturday before taking off.

We drove Highway 1A to Cochrane then continued along it to Exshaw (where Canadian actor, Bruno Gerussi grew up).  We'd never been down this highway which parallels the TransCanadian but on the other side of the Bow River.  Due to its lighter traffic, Glen could stop whenever Lynda or Chris wished to take photos.  The first pause was for some horses near the road.  While L&C checked out the horses, I spotted what I thought was a deer in the valley near a conspiracy (flock) of ravens.  I caught the scene with my 300 mm lens.  Upon returning to the car, I saw a wolf leaving the scene.  Later, I discovered my 'deer' was really a wolf and the ravens were feeding on its kill.

Our next stop was McDougall Memorial United Church near Morley, Alberta.  Originally a Methodist church, it was constructed in 1875 as part of mission serving the Natives in the area.  It is significant to the history of the region as it was also the site of the first permanent homestead in southern Alberta.  Reverend George McDougall and his son, John, were instrumental in preparing the way for other settlers to southern Alberta.

The lighting was perfect for photographs and Lynda, Chris, and I went nuts (Glen read the many plaques telling of the building's history).  We all tried to capture the essence of the site through our camera lenses and returned with three completely different sets of pictures.  It always amazes me how each photographer sees a scene and adds their own personality to their photos of it.

Near Exshaw, we came upon a herd of Rocky Mountain, or Bighorn, Sheep.  We weren't the only ones stopping to photograph these animals.  At this point, the secondary road ended so we returned to the main highway.  We'd pick up Highway 1A again just beyond Banff and take it to Johnston Canyon.

I always love the mountains when they have snow upon them as it brings out the cragginess of the rock faces.  Too much snow and this contrast is lost.  Last week, the snowfall was perfect and Lynda captured it beautifully with her shots from the car.

However, this dusting of snow also blanketed the road into the canyon.  Our snow tires were in the garage awaiting installation so we did a bit of sliding before reaching the parking lot.  We then ate our picnic lunch before heading up the trail.  It was chilly in the shadows of the trees and the snow well tramped.  This led to some very slippery patches.  I even did some boot-skiing along the cement walkways.

Our grumbling about the icy conditions vanished at the first waterfall where shimmering icicles bracketed the tumbling water.  Snow sat like marshmallows on rocks and logs and the sun peeking through the pines created a beauty that was magical.  The hike which we knew so well changed into a wonderland reminiscent of a Christmas card.  I was sure I had enough photos of the canyon but every bend in the river brought a new aspect to the creek and its rocky walls which I had to capture.

We weren't alone on the trail as it is a popular one.  From babies in strollers to grandmothers hobbling along on high-heels, everyone enjoyed the brisk mountain air.  We helped an Australian solve a problem with his camera and laughed with a gaggle of girls who had tumbled onto the snowy path.

The Lower Falls were spectacular in their wintery garb and the Upper Falls thundered through the ice, its canyon walls dripping with icicles.  Whiskey Jacks and ravens flew through the forest and chickadees serenaded us as we walked.  Cougars had been spotted on Sulphur Mountain but we saw no evidence of them here.

By the time we returned to the car, the afternoon was waning.  I had hoped to do a letterbox in Canmore but decided that could wait for another day.  We were all pretty tired from our adventure so the trip home was quiet except for the periodic clicking of Chris's shutter as he caught the mountains bathed in afternoon light.

To see our photos, click here for mine and here for Lynda's.  Chris's are pending.

Oyster Festival, Day 2

Glen read on-line there was to be an Oyster Festival parade at 11:30 am so we had a late breakfast then I packed up our bags.  After checking out of the hotel, we wandered over to Eyre Square where the parade was to begin.  We thought there'd be hordes of people but discovered the place was almost empty.

A band from Northern Ireland played some old tunes while we waited for the 'Oyster Pearl' (beauty queen) and the mayor to begin the 57th festival.  Apparently, the festival was the idea of a hotel manager who wanted to extend the tourist season into September and it has grown since 1956.  The mayor must eat the first oyster of the festival (some in the past have faked it) and Hildegarde Naughton quickly downed the succulent morsel.  School children led the procession followed by stilt walkers and international oyster shuckers bearing the flags of their countries.  We were happy to see Canada was represented and I’ve since learned he came in fifth in the Bollinger World Oyster Opening competition which was won by Belgium.  Michael Moran of Moran's Oyster Cottage, five-time champion, won the National Irish Oyster Opening competition again.

The parade was short so we followed it into the town enjoying the music.  As we passed various pubs and restaurants, we saw that both the Guinness and oysters flowed. Our train didn't leave until 3:00 so we had lunch at the King's Head Pub.  They advertised a plate of 6 oysters with brown bread and a free pint of Guinness.  Who could resist that?

The place was packed but we got a table easily enough.  While we ate our oysters, another group of old people sat down beside us.  A few minutes later, another joined them and he couldn't contain his excitement.  Bono of U2 was in the pub eating oysters and he had photographed him.  When we left, we checked to see if we could see Bono but did not.  I guess it was a case of 'almost meeting' rock and roll fame.

We ate two types of oysters in Galway.  The local ones are called Clarenbridge Oysters or European Flat Oyster (Ostrea edulis) and have a thick, buttery taste.  The town of Clarenbridge has their own oyster festival (begun in 1954) at the beginning of September, the Irish adhering to the rule that one doesn't eat oysters from May to August (months without an 'r').  The people of Clarenbridge have been harvesting oysters since Roman times and say their sheltered bay is perfect for growing them in a mixture of salt and fresh water.

The oysters we ate the previous day at The Quays were called Pacific Oysters but are not the same kind we buy in our grocery stores in Alberta.  Crassostrea gigas are also known as Japanese oysters and have been grown in Europe since 1966 when disease and overfishing decimated the native Ostrea edulis populations.

Typically, Galway oysters are served with lemon but horseradish and Tabasco often accompany the dish.  A small salad and thick, brown bread round out the meal.  And, of course, a pint of Guinness.

After lunch, we headed to the train station.  It was small with no PA system so when a train arrived, we began to board with all the others.  An eagle-eyed conductor sent us back otherwise we would have travelled to Limerick.  The ride to Dublin was quiet except for a screaming baby (the last hour).  At Heuston station in Dublin, we found the bus to the airport.  Unfortunately we didn't have the exact fare so the bus driver had to dip into his pockets to give us our change.  He was short by a euro but we didn't quibble.  The bus took us on a tour of Dublin as it circled the downtown to pick up passengers.

At the airport, we had problems finding the shuttle stop for the Radisson Blu hotel.  Finally I spotted the shuttle bus and ran, dragging our luggage behind me.  There were others at the stop loading their bags onto the bus so we arrived, gasping for breath, before it left.  The hotel is an aging building but the rooms were clean.  It was close to 8:00 pm by the time we went to O'Deas Irish Bar for a supper of burgers and chunky chips (french fries in Ireland are never slim) washed down with Guinness.

We were up early to catch the 6:45 shuttle to the airport.  We made our way through customs and security then had breakfast at a cafeteria--orange soda (big mistake), danishes (bigger mistake) and strong coffee.  Our plane left on time and a man changed positions with me so I could sit beside Glen.  The flight was uneventful except that the man next to me was a retired air force helicopter pilot from Halifax.  We arrived in London early so the plane circled the city waiting to land.  The weather was clear so we saw all the sites from Tower Bridge to the Houses of Parliament.

After landing, we again ran the gauntlet of customs and security.  We had plenty of time before our next flight so we shopped at the Duty Free and bought Glen his favourite cigars.  Lunch drew near but I could not look at food I was so ill.  Glen had no British money but discovered Starbucks could use his card despite its being in Canadian funds so he bought a coffee and a muffin.  I had a few nibbles but they didn't settle my stomach. 

At the gate, Glen asked to be seated together.  We ended up with bulkhead seats which suited Glen.  At this point, I could care less.  We had issues with boarding but only because I wasn't thinking straight.  I just wanted to sleep which I did until they served supper.  I ate the roll and drank some ginger ale.  A couple of hours later when the plane hit some pretty rough turbulence, I was violently ill.  Having no time to reach the bathroom, I used my blanket.  The woman beside me leapt from her seat to get an attendant while I tried to wake Glen.  He grabbed the bag the blanket had come in and I used that until I was done.  Of course, I felt fantastic afterwards but very sorry I had caused such a mess.  I swore our breakfast danish was the culprit but Glen wasn't convinced since he was not sick.

By the time we landed, I felt more myself although still a little shaky.  Meg and Mike met us and drove us home.  We then ordered Chinese from Ginger Beef Take-Out for supper and I had some wonton soup.  After eating, I was ready for bed.  Later that night, it was Glen's turn to be ill so he now believes we suffered from food poisoning.

Oyster Festival

Galway is famous for its oysters.  We tried several times to partake but without any luck.  I now believe they were hoarding them for the oyster festival.  The 57th Oyster Festival began on Friday and every pub advertised oysters.  We went to The Quays for lunch and shared a dozen but before that, I wanted to explore the beach at Salthill (see photo) that we'd seen on the bus from the Aran Islands.

So we retraced the steps I had taken on Monday and walked through Claddagh to Salthill passing the causeway to the Mutton Island Lighthouse.  The lighthouse was built in 1817 on the site of a former castle and extinguished in 1977.  It was the last light of their homeland that many Irish, fleeing the famine in 1847-50, saw as they left Galway for foreign lands.

We walked through a park dedicated to those who left Ireland during the famine, then came upon the National Aquarium of Ireland.  We decided it would be fun to explore this so approached the ticket wicket.  We had learned to refer to ourselves as seniors but bonus, on this day, it was free for everyone.  The girl at the counter had a small Canadian pin and told us she was originally from Toronto.  She was the second Canadian we met working in Ireland, the first being a Korean-Canadian girl who taught us how to pour Guinness (the world is a strange place).

We had a great time in the Aquarium sharing it with a group of Alzheimer patients, a class of teens, and four classes of school kids (kindergarten and perhaps Grade 3).  Obviously, it was a fun place to be and to hear Gaelic spoken among the young was amazing.

We got back to Galway in time for lunch then walked over to the Cathedral so Glen could explore it.  On our way back, we stopped at a plaque in Eyre Square honouring John F. Kennedy.  Turns out the square had been re-named Kennedy Square in 1965 to commemorate President Kennedy's visit in 1963 just before his assassination.  Problem is no one refers to the square by Kennedy name and only one map I had made reference to it.

As we relaxed in our hotel room catching up on emails, we watched a steady stream of traffic enter the city.  It continued for an hour.  After our experience on Arthur's Day, we decided against trying to fight the Oyster Festival crowds and so ate supper in the hotel.

Happy Arthur's Day!!

One place in the Galway region that was on my must-see list was the Aran Islands.  I have knitted several Aran island type sweaters over the years and was always fascinated in the stories of the patterns.  Each knitter has an unique pattern she (always women in the past) used to create sweaters for her menfolk.  The story goes that often drowned fishermen were identified by the sweater they wore.

There are three islands making up the Aran Islands:  Inis Mor (big island), Inis Meanin (middle island), and Inis Oirr (eastern island).  Aran Island Ferries runs passengers to all three islands but the route to Kilronan on Inis Mor (pronounced 'Inishmore') has more sailings (extra ones between June and September).  According to their brochure, the bus to the harbour of Ros an Mhil (Rossaveal) left Galway an hour prior to sailing (there are other ferries which depart from Doolin) and since we wished to board the 10:30 am ferry, we left the hotel at 9:00.  The ferry office was a block from the hotel so we quickly paid for our passage (senior rates pose a significant savings), then headed to the bus stop near Eyre Square.  We weren't the only ones waiting and met a couple from Maine who were in Galway to participate in the Oyster Festival.

After an hour's bus ride on a double-decker, we boarded the ferry.  The seas had been rough the previous day (note the picture on the Cliffs of Insanity blog) but they appeared calm as we chugged slowly through the harbour.  It was an illusion, of course, and when we hit the open water, the seas grew.  I have seen much worse but for those with tender tummies, expect a rough ride.

We reached Kilronan around 11:30 and after obtaining a map from the tourist office, we headed up the road leading to the interior.  Others from our group rented bicycles while older folks opted for horse-drawn traps or tour vans (these act as taxis and will pick up hikers as they circle the island).  Since I knew I was there to photograph the scenery, a bike was not my preferred mode of transportation and as it turned out, the island's hills forced many bikers to dismount.

Inis Mor was nothing what I expected -- it was so much more.  The day was bright, the bracken burnished, and the lichen spotted rock walls craggy.  Clouds scudded across the island's skies but the rains never came.  The islands are geologically related to the The Burren which we'd seen the previous day and as we left the town, we made a detour onto the flattened, moon-like landscape.  From this elevation we could see the other islands and the lighthouse which was our destination.

"Why would you build a lighthouse in the middle of an island?" Was the question we kept asking ourselves as we walked the island road.  It was a steep climb to reach it and the tower was at least a kilometer from the sea.  Turns out the lighthouse was a complete failure and had been abandoned soon after it was built.

Also on this, the highest part of the island called Dun Arann, was a Signal Tower and round stone fort (Dun Eochia).   The signal tower was a medieval structure whereas the lighthouse was modern.  We scrambled up the rusting circular staircase to the top of the lighthouse and enjoyed wonderful views of the island (above photo).  The stone fort lay at our feet so we descended to explore that.  There were no guardrails or plaques, just two sets of circular walls.  We later learned it had been constructed between 550 and 800 A.D. and may have been a dwelling rather than a fort with livestock occupying the outer circle.  We were shocked to think we had scrambled over structures that old.

By this time, 1:30 pm,  I was hungry so we left the fort.  We'd past a bar on the road outside town so quickly headed to that.  Ti Joe Watty's is a happening place but for lunch, it seemed like an ideal spot.  Besides, in honour of Arthur's Day (see title), Guinness was cheap (1.5 euro less than usual).  We had a tasty shepherd's pie sitting by a warm peat fire.   I've come to love both Guinness and peat fires.  Arthur's Day actually began September 22, 2009 (at 17:59) on the 250th anniversary of the Guinness brewery and has continued since then.

After lunch, we returned to the town of Kilnonan and explored the Aran Sweater Market & Museum.  I knew I would buy a sweater but which one became the question.  In the end, I settled for a machine knit, Merlino wool cardigan in a biscuit colour.  The hand-knit sweaters were expensive and not made by island woman anymore.  I was tempted to buy the unworked yarn but knew it wouldn't fit into my suitcase (I can order it on-line as it turns out).

We caught the 5:00 pm ferry which left at 4:45 so it was good we got to the dock early.  Our Maine friends were not on board but another ferry left soon after so we saw them board our bus at Ros an Mihl.  An hour later, we were back in Galway and after a brief stop at our hotel, went out in search of supper.

There were hordes of young people milling about every pub and off-license in town, all celebrating Arthur's Day.  Hundreds, all toting glasses of Guinness, packed the main shopping street and every pub overflowed with those imbibing.  We wanted to eat as well as drink and did not want to battle the crowds so made our way back to McGuinns on the Quay.  The proprietor recognized us and said, "Well, today you are definitely drinking Guinness."  He ordered it as we found a table.  The place was packed but not too noisy.  I enjoyed a chowder and crawfish salad while Glen had Irish stew.  Not long after we sat down, a trio began playing and did some great covers of Queen and even some old Fifties songs.  We took the backstreets home to avoid the drunk kids and tumbled into bed.  What a great day and we certainly did Arthur Guinness proud.

Cliffs of Insanity

Wednesday we decided to do a half day bus tour.  Again Glen and I got our timing wrong. I thought he knew the tours started at either 11 or 11:30.  He thought they began at noon.

We slept in and had a large, late breakfast before Glen tackled his more pressing emails.  I read then finally at 10:45 said I guess we weren't going on the tour.  Glen realized his error so without further adieu, we marched up to the tour office (a block away) and bought tickets to see the Cliffs of Moher (pronounced 'more') on the 11:30 bus.

It began to rain as we left so we were warned we might not see much.  Without thinking I began taking photos from the bus window only to discover later that the tinted glass gave everything a green hue.  Emerald Isle, indeed.

It was a long drive to the cliffs as we crossed the Burren which means 'great rock'.  This limestone formation is barren in areas and grows very little in others.  Cattle, sheep, and donkeys seemed to be the livestock of choice although one pathetic garden did have rather stunted sunflowers.  The bus driver thought this very funny for a rainy place like Ireland.  The rocks are great for building walls and we saw plenty of those.   We also saw fields dedicated to peat harvesting and more castle/forts than I can remember.

When we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher, the rain stopped and the sun tried to pry open the clouds.  Hundreds of folks were there to see the natural beauty of the cliffs but first we took a break at the visitor centre which is cut into the surrounding cliffs so does not detract from the bleak landscape.

The cliffs, made up of shale and sandstone, soar to a maximum of 200 meters (700 feet) above the sea and run 8 km (5 miles) along the coast.  At their midpoint, stands O'Brien's Tower which Sir Cornelius O'Brien built to impress his female visitors (I was impressed).  From here we viewed the natural phenomenon that is the Cliffs of Moher.  They seemed familiar and later I discovered they were featured in the movie, The Princess Bride, a favourite of our family.  There they were called the Cliffs of Insanity.

The cliffs are amazing but the wind could lift you off your feet, it was so strong.  We didn't linger up on the bluffs but I did get lots of pictures.  At one point, as we peered across Galway Bay, we could just see the Aran Islands.  The sun then vanished and the rain began so we made our way back to the bus.

Our next stop was lunch in a tiny town called Doolin, famous for its Irish music (The Russell Brothers hail from here).  We stopped at Fitzpatrick's, a bar/cafeteria where we could get a pint of Guinness and an excellent seafood chowder with rich brown bread.  Bread in Ireland is so delicious and is served with everything from oysters to soup.  It is the land where potato is king.  At Fitzpatrick's the woman ahead of us requested the turkey dinner and not only did she get a huge dollop of mash potatoes, the chef also gave her several boiled potatoes.  Her husband then asked what the soup of the day was and the chef replied, "Amazing!".  I got a laugh out of that.  Don't look for a huge variety of veggies in Ireland.  We had mostly peas and carrots and their salads were a pile of lettuce with perhaps a cucumber slice.

After lunch (it was 3:00 pm when we sat down to eat), we drove to another slab of rock along the coast.  Here, the abbreviated cliffs were covered in scaffolding as a crew had been filming the new Asterix & Obelix movie.  The drop from the ledge we stood on was steep and there were no guard rails holding us back so we took our photos quickly then bundled back onto the bus.

On our return to Galway, we stopped at a small castle.  Dunguaire Castle sits on Galway Bay and as we disembarked a flock of swans came to feed along the shoreline.  The castle is really a tower house built in 1520 but is thought to be the most photographed castle in Ireland.  You must be careful on how you line up your photo, though, as a tiny village, Kinverra, has almost engulfed it. In the summer, the castle is open to tourists but we had to be content just wandering the grounds.  Apparently, if you ask a question at the front gate, the late Lord of the Hynes clan, who built the castle, will provide an answer by the end of the day.  I didn't know this so, even though I stood at the gate, I never thought to ask a question.

We were late getting back to town so by the time we were ready for supper, it was after 8:00 pm.  We decided to go to the closest pub that served oysters.  This was Garvey's Inn on Eyre Square.  We found a seat for two at the back where all was quiet.  Almost too quiet.  We ordered our Guinness and were told the oysters were gone.  Rather than hunt down another place, we ordered regular bar food.  As we were enjoying our meal, a band began to set up nearby.  By 10:00, the place was rocking.  The music was good but we knew we had rise early to do our next tour so left giving those standing around us a place to sit.

So I Lied

Okay, I lied about the rain.  The next day dawned bright and sunny so I again explored the town.  I wanted to see the weir and the 'working' harbour so began by heading towards the river.  Glen spent the morning sequestered in a hotel conference room working with his colleagues on their final report.

The population of Galway is about 100,000 and Galwegians proudly say it is the third largest city in Ireland.  Those in other towns dispute this.  However, the downtown area is alive with people no matter what time of day so it did seem like a busy European city.  Calgary could learn something from this.

I wandered along the River Corrib above the weir and discovered what I believe may have been part the original walls of city, built in the 1600's.  As I fiddled with my camera to change my lenses, a squall blew up and lashed against me.  I took shelter behind this wall now covered with trees and moss.  A few minutes later, the sun shone again.  I decided the weather was much like Calgary's, wait five minutes and it will change.

Not able to cross the weir (obviously deemed too dangerous for the public), I returned to the Salmon Weir Bridge that leads to the Cathedral.  I had spotted some gardens next to the river which I wanted to see but these were also closed to the public.  An old white house stood beside the weir so I made my way to that.  Turns out the Ministry of Fisheries owned the building and again public were not welcome.

Retracing my steps, I discovered a stone structure with a plaque sitting in the middle of a small field (Fisheries Field on the grounds of the National University of Ireland).  It turned out to be a lime kiln (heat turns limestone into quicklime) used in 1820 (during an outbreak of cholera) to build a hospital and make the whitewash used to sanitize its walls.

My next destination was the monument to Christopher Columbus which I'd read was near the waterfront.  Turns out I had passed it the day before but it was such an insignificant marking I'd missed it.  I then walked under the Spanish Arch on my way to the Galway's modern harbour.  The wall was originally part of the city's fortifications but in the 18th century, when the Long Walk was built, arches allowed people to move along the waterfront.  Glen ate in the tiny restaurant near the arch but since they didn't serve Guinness, we never returned.

The Long Walk isn't that long and I have since learned that what I thought was the old harbour is actually the River Corrib.  I guess if I'd tasted the water, I might have known but the obvious tide threw me off.  After watching longshoremen load scrap metal onto a ship, I made my way back into town passing a tiny restaurant called McGinns on the Quays which looked inviting.  The 19th century building was the birthplace of Padraig O'Conaire who wrote about Irish emigrants living in England.

It was noon when I reached the hotel.  By one o'clock there was still no sign of Glen so I texted him.  Turned out, the group had planned to work until at least 2:00 but either he had forgotten to tell me or I hadn't heard him.  He said I could eat their leftover sandwiches but I thought that a bit crass so again had soup and a sandwich in the hotel restaurant.

When Glen's session was over, we walked along an arm of the sea which flowed passed the hotel called Lough Atalia (lough being Gaelic for lake).  Partway down the walkway, we came to a white cement structure on the shore.  Turns out it was a holy well associated with the Augustinians and its waters cured ear and eye infections.  We had neither so didn't try the water bubbling from the ground from the well and flowing into the sea.

Following a circuitous route, we wound our way back to the town's centre passing a greyhound racetrack and city hall.  Glen had only seen the square at night and I only in the rain so we enjoyed it together.  We then wandered the downtown eventually coming to St. Nicholas church.   We went inside and saw the ancient tombs set in the floor, some crusading knights from the 12th or 13th century.  Outside the church was a wall where, in 1493, a the mayor took justice into his own hands and hanged his son for murdering a visitor.   His name?  James Lynch Fitzstephen.  Galway claims this is the source of the term, lynching, but most attribute it to an American Revolutionary called Charles Lynch who mete out justice against British Loyalists.

We returned to the hotel so Glen could check his email and debated staying there for supper until I mentioned McGuinns.  The gregarious owner welcomed us warmly.  We found that most in Ireland think we're American.  He was no exception but he knew enough about Canada to make us feel at home.  We ordered a bowl of Galway Bay mussels to start and ate them as the natives do, without a fork.  The finger bowl with a slice of lemon was a nice touch but I kept thinking of the movie Shrek 2 where Shrek thinks the finger bowl is soup.  It made me giggle.  Tuesday's special was a fillet of hake and if you bought one entree, the second was free.  Neither Glen nor I knew what hake was but it turned out to be delicious and tasted much like cod (it's from the same family).  We washed it down with a couple of pints of Guinness then Glen had a meringue dessert while I drank a very stiff Irish coffee.  How cliché, eh?

It's Called the Emerald Isle Because...

...it is so very green.  And why?  Well, it rains.  A lot.  Our breakfast hostess said it rained 360 days of the year. We laughed but the city does get 45 inches (1147 mm) per year so she may not have been far wrong.  Some of this precipitation fell on Monday, September 19th.

Glen went off to his meetings at the university while I waited for the heavy rain to cease.  By 10, it looked like the weather was easing so I headed out.  I didn't take my umbrella as I hate fumbling with it while taking photographs but I did dress in layers -- sweatshirt, polar fleece, and raincoat.

I hadn't gone far when the light mist turned to a heavy mist and by the time I reached Galway Harbour (above picture), it had begun to sock in.  I ended up switching to my waterproof camera as the rains came down, sometimes in blinding sheets.

Galway, or Gaillimh, was named for its river, now called the Corrib and is often referred to as the City of Tribes because in Norman times, it was ruled by 14 merchant families or tribes.  These are celebrated in the town square which was the first stop on my walking tour of the city.  Here, banners to the families fly near a stunning sculpture of the sails of the Galway Hooker (a fishing vessel).

I wandered from the square down the main shopping street.  I was not the only one braving the elements but few were tourists.  I crossed the Corrib River into Claddagh, famous for its rings which are a token of love and are often used as a wedding ring.  They were first produced in the 17th century and depict two hands (friendship) holding a heart (love) topped by a crown (loyalty).  Depending on which way you wear it and on which finger, you can show that you are available, in a relationship, engaged, or married.

After enjoying the harbour views, I made my way toward the Cathedral and despite having a map, I got lost among the side streets.  I knew the River Corrib was on my right and only a few bridges crossed it so I made my way toward what I felt was a major road.  Here I found the university and its hospital.  Glen didn't know how close I was to him.  Keeping the green-copper dome of the cathedral in my sights, I made my way towards it.

What a stunning building!  It is a very modern cathedral but has all the elements of one much older.  Called Our Lady Assumed into Heaven & St. Nicholas, it is the youngest stone cathedral (built in 1965) in Europe.  The stained glass windows were vibrant and the stations of the cross, very moving.  As a group of worshippers chanted in one of the chapels, hushed tourists admired the splendid mosaic of Christ on the cross.

After crossing the river near its famous Salmon Weir where the water broiled through the sluiceways, I came upon another stone church.  Much older but also named for St. Nicholas.  It is said Christopher Columbus prayed here in 1477 which was possible as the church is dedicated to St. Nicholas of Myra, the patron saint of sailors.  Built in 1320, it is the largest medieval stone church still in use in Ireland (these days by Anglicans).

Nearby was the house of Nora Barnacle.  Of humble birth, she later gained fame as first the mistress then the wife of writer/poet, James Joyce.  It bills itself as the smallest museum in the world but it was closed so I'll never know.

By this time the rain was heavy so I scurried back to the hotel for a late lunch.  I felt the need for a Guinness so went to the bar but they didn't serve food.  I was the only one in the restaurant when I entered and the host assured I didn't need to eat at the buffet and yes, he could get me a Guinness.  As I was wrestling with a loaf of bread trying to slice off a couple of slabs for a sandwich, he came hurrying back.

"Are you sure you want a pint?" he asked.  "They are quite big."

I laughed.  "I'm Canadian, I can drink a pint of Guinness."  And I did.

The next day when he saw me, he called me his "Little Guinness Girl."

The Bells are Ringing

Sunday in Dublin is filled with the music of the bells.  Not only the ding-dong kind but those that sing songs of praise.  It was wonderful to hear and harkened back to a different age.  And how appropriate that we should also visit a chapel this day.

The place of worship was at Dublin Castle, and was once called the Chapel Royal, now the Church of the Most Holy Trinity.  It is a timber building created to look like stone and was decorated by some of the leading architects of the day.  Begun in 1807, the building wasn't complete until 1814.  The ornate organ was a gift from Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria.

The Castle itself stands on the site of a Norman Castle (1169) but only a curtain wall and two towers remain (built between 1208 and 1220).  Since Glen and I arrived early to the grounds, we didn't see the interior of the buildings built to house the British Viceroys (only open afternoons on weekends).  The castle has been featured in many movies and played the role of the Vatican in the TV series, The Tudors.

We passed the old city hall on the way back to the Book of Kells gift shop then walked to Merrion Square where we saw the sculpture of Oscar Wilde and found his house across the street from the park.  It was now time to check out of our hotel room then spend some time in the lobby reading until we left for the train station.  Our taxi driver was glad he didn't have to battle the traffic near the football stadium as Dublin was playing Kerry in a match.  This is an intense rivalry and some of the Kerry fans were staying at our hotel.

We ate lunch at the station in a cafe called the Galway Hooker.  We didn't think it meant the same in Ireland as it does in North America and we were right.  A Galway Hooker is a sailing boat with an unique arrangement of sails.

We had window seats on the train from Dublin to Galway and the scenery passed through sunshine and rain.  We saw mostly sheep, some cows, and lots of green.  There was a table of lads next to us who had been to a stag in Dublin and were on their way home but listened to the football match on their phones.  They were as surprised as we were there were only 2 cans of Guinness to be had on the train.

The walk from the station to the hotel took 10 minutes.  While I ate supper in the lobby's lounge, Glen drank a couple of Guinness before he had to meet the organizers of the lab review.  They had dinner in the hotel restaurant while I read in our room.

We were in bed early and for the first time since arriving here, I had a decent night's sleep.  I think it was the cold, salty, North Atlantic air flowing through our window.

"In Dublin's fair city...

...where girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on Molly Malone." (see photo of The Tart with the Cart and Glen)

When I learned to play guitar back 'in the day', this song was one of the first I could play in a half decent manner.  Well, it was a simple ditty.  Never did I think I'd ever set foot in Dublin and yet, I had a whole Saturday in which to explore the city with Glen.  The weather wasn't fair but we'd come prepared.

First though, we had a huge breakfast of bacon, fried mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, sausage, and eggs.  I added yogurt and fruit, Glen two slabs of fantastic bread.  We knew we'd have a lot of walking to do as there is much to see in Dublin.  Our first destination was the Custom House but jet lag still affected us so we ended up at Trinity College instead.  That's where we found the queue for the Book of Kells.  For some reason, I had thought this ancient tome (circa AD 800) was housed in a castle in southern Ireland but no, it has its own place of pride in the Trinity College Library.  The displays of old manuscripts dating from the same era were incredible and the Book itself was something worth seeing.  However, what took my breath away was the Trinity College Old Library Hall.

Since taking photos was forbidden, I must describe what I saw.  The walls soared two stories meeting in an arch of golden brown wood over a central hall.  The slightly musty smell of old leather and aging paper filled the room.  Running down each side of the hall were alcoves filled with books -- brown, black, or tan -- jammed tightly against its neighbour.  Twelve to fourteen shelves, each alphabetized with double gold letters, showed you where to find the book you sought.  Upstairs similiar shelves filled each of its alcoves.  There were thousands upon thousands of books.

Along the central aisle were display cases showing the history of medicine in Ireland.  I felt overwhelmed by the majesty of the place so sat down on a bench and just soaked up the atmosphere.  Meanwhile, Glen discovered the envelop in which the first vaccine to arrive in Dublin was shipped.  He said it was a microbiologist's version of the Book of Kells.   It was interesting that a woman doctor encouraged the Irish to accept vaccination.

The tour ended at the gift shop, naturally, but I didn't want to have to worry about shopping bags so we decided to return on the way back to our hotel, the O'Callaghan Alexander.  We then wandered through the college campus, exiting across from the impressive Bank of Ireland building.  Originally built to house the Irish Parliament, it was bought by the bank in 1803 and used as its headquarters until the 1970s.  The colonnades were impressive as were the stone friezes.

We walked along the Liffey River until we reached the Custom House.  Remember, that was our original destination. It was built in 1791 but destroyed during the Irish War of Independence in 1921.  The Irish Free State restored it although many historical documents were lost.  After enjoying the views, we wandered back to the Temple Bar region of the city and saw the famous Ha'Penny (cast iron) Bridge, built by a ferryman who charged a ha'penny to those who wished to cross.

We were on our way to see the Guinness Storehouse as Glen's grad student, Tanis, had recommended it but saw the new city hall and Christ Church Cathedral first.  This stone church (oldest part built in 1180) was constructed on the site of a wood one erected in 1038.   We then walked past St. Audoen's (originally called the Celtic Church of St. Columicille) which is supposed to be Dublin's oldest church.  Anglo-Normans built a stone tower on the site in 1190 and the nave dates from the 13th century.

It was about 2:30 when we reached the Guinness Storehouse.  Glen had been declared a senior citizen at the Book of Kells exhibit so when we learned we could save $12 on our entry fee to the storehouse, we declared ourselves seniors and no one questioned us. We had yet to eat lunch but neither of us felt hungry so we started to explore this extensive museum.  Using ancient brewing equipment and modern videos, Guinness took us through the brewing process. The place is huge (shaped like a glass of Guinness) with many floors but partway up is a tasting room where you get a wee glass of the porter.

Arthur Guinness received an inheritance of 100 pounds and in 1725 started a brewery with a friend, in Kildare.  But in 1759, he signed a 9000 year lease in Dublin (including water rights) and began brewing ale and a new drink called porter.  He exported his porter to England where it grew in popularity and in 1799, he stopped brewing ale to focus all his efforts on 'that black stuff'.

At the top of two escalators was a refreshment center with a snack bar, restaurant and a 'Pour you own Pint' bar.  Glen HAD to pour so that meant I had to do so (I was shaking, I was so nervous).  I've drunk Guinness in the past but was never an ardent fan but once you've poured your own, you develop a taste.  We even got certificates declaring us to be qualified Guinness pourers.  While I hunted for mine, a woman gave Glen her glass since she 'hated' beer so he was a happy camper.  The view of Dublin from the lounge was fantastic.

After finishing our drink, we continued upwards and arrived at Gravity Bar, a 360º view of Dublin where everyone else was enjoying their 'free' glass of porter.  It was a madhouse so we descended to the gift shop.  Glen kept telling everyone he met, "What the Vatican is to Catholics, the Guinness Storehouse is to beer drinkers".  We ended up in the gift shop, naturally, and bought a few souvenirs.

By this time we were hungry so walked back to Temple Bar where Glen's former post-doc, Erin, said we'd find a great place to drink.  It must have been because everyone in Dublin was inside.  We crossed the street and found a quiet restaurant, The Shack, where we had Guinness with beef casserole (Glen) and lamb stew (me).  It was obviously an 'in' place for Dublin women to go after shopping as there were 3 men and 25 women dining.  Our waitress gave me a small polished amethyst stone as a gift then we headed back to our hotel.  After divesting ourselves of our shopping and cameras, we returned to Kennedy's and had some more Guinness before calling it a night.

Passport Panic

Melissa, our daughter-in-law, said Glen's passport panic would make a great blog post to which I replied, "Only if it has a happy ending." (Foreshadowing, folks)

Not sure where, but I read that to fly to Ireland, one needed a passport that did not expire within 6 months.  Glen's was due to end in January and since the Irish site visit was set for September, he needed a new one.

Applying online seemed to the best way to apply as getting to the downtown office from the Health Sciences Centre is problematic for Glen.  He meant to apply in June but then figured we might need the passport to go to the States to pick Geoff, et al when they visited Victoria. Besides, we had lots of time to apply once we got back to Calgary.  Big mistake.

Although the Passport Canada website had the forms, one must actually mail in the application.  I sent it priority post and a week later, Glen's old passport came back.  The system appeared to be working.  I thought the new passport would arrive within a few days.  Wrong.  Buried deep in the website is the information that it takes 20 working days to process a passport if it is mailed, ten if one goes to a passport office.

Then Glen got an email saying the passport would arrive on September 21st.  We were leaving on the 15th!  He called Passport Canada and his passport was at the printers but they did transfer his file to Calgary where it could be expedited.  Problem was the woman who got his file could barely speak English and even though Glen sent her all our flight information plus his invitation letter, etc, she recorded we were to leave Friday, not Thursday.

This laboratory site visit required reading through over 250 pages of scientific information plus scanning the 25 CVs of the investigators.  Glen spent over two weeks reading about the research and budget then had to write a long report on the positives and negatives of the entire scientific group.  This involved a lot of work.

Needless-to-say, Glen was too busy with the first week of classes plus putting the finishing touches on his review to call the passport office.  He naively believed everything was working as it should.  How wrong he was.  Finally, on Wednesday morning, he called to find out what was going on.  That's when he learned they thought he flew out on Friday.  The file was targeted as urgent then he was told to come to the Calgary office on Thursday at 1pm and he may or may not get his passport.

I felt sick.  I was packing and had no idea if I was doing so in vain.  I couldn't get excited about travelling to Ireland because I didn't know if I would leave Canada.  The flight was due to depart at 6:30pm on Thursday but we wanted to be at the airport by 4:00 to eat, knowing supper on the plane would be late.

One o'clock came and went.  I couldn't concentrate on anything.  I knew Glen would text me the minute he had the passport but they ticked by with no communications.  Finally, at 1:15, he texted to say it was being printed.  A half hour later, he had it in his hands and was heading home.  I flung the last of our clothes into the suitcase.

We were at the airport in plenty of time but soon learned we would not be sitting together on the plane. The woman at the check-in desk could not move us as we both had middle seats which no one else would want.  Resigned to having this flight being the 'one from Hell', we headed for security.  Glen was selected for a complete search which included one of the new full-body scans.  He thought it was fun.

We headed to the gate at the other end of the airport only to discover there was no place to have a meal so returned to the domestic section so we could eat and have a much needed beer.  Chili's was busy but we got a seat and slowly the tension eased.  I felt as if my shoulders which had been swallowing my neck finally relaxed.

We returned to the gate and I heard someone rearranging their seats so they could sit together so we tried to do the same.  Success!!  I even got a window seat.  The flight itself was uneventful and I logged 4 hours sleep.   We arrived early and had to circle Heathrow.  We exited the plane to make our way from Terminal 3 to Terminal 1.  Sounds easy, eh?

Since we were not staying in England, we thought we could waltz through the airport with plenty of time to spare.  Well, we were wrong.  Apparently, even if you are going to Ireland, you must fill in a UK entry form and go through passport control.   Then we hopped a bus to take us to Terminal 1.  It had to circle around all the construction at the airport to get us to the terminal.  Again we had to go through passport control where they removed the bar code they had inserted into our first check.

Security awaited and again we were scrutinized.  By this time our jet lagged brains were truly addled and we checked the departures board to see where we had to go.  The 12:05 plane to Dublin flashed 'Go to Gate'.  We rushed to gate 82 swirling past other passengers to follow a labyrinthian-like route.  We arrived as a long line snaked into the plane.  We got at its end, sweat pouring off Glen.  It was hot in London and we wore fall clothing.

The ticket agent then informed us we were at the wrong gate trying to board the wrong airline.  She told us to go to Gate 78 where a BMI plane waited.  We did but there were no agents at the gate and the departures board said our flight was boarding at Gate 8.  So we ran back to that gate knowing we'd probably not make it but we actually arrived at 11:55.  But, there was no plane!!

After taking a deep breath, we found a board that said our flight, which was boarding at 12:05, not departing at 12:05, was now boarding at Gate--you guessed it, 78.  Back we flew and got there just as the agents were setting up.  We were not sitting together on this flight either so Glen spoke to the agents and they quickly arranged for us to sit next to each other.

It was a short flight to Dublin but all the while I worried about whether our bag made the transition to this flight.  I had thought the Air Canada agent said we must pick up our bag in London but Glen insisted it would be transferred.  He was right, thank heavens.

We caught a bus outside the terminal that took us to downtown Dublin within a block of our hotel.  As it turns out, it stopped right in front of the house in which Oscar Wilde was born.  We got checked in and although I dearly wanted to sleep, we had missed lunch in our mad dash through Heathrow so decided to hit a pub for an early supper.

Kennedy's was a student/workingman's pub near Trinity College (see photo) and we enjoyed an excellent bowl of creamed vegetable soup and salmon fishcakes, washed down with Smithwicks beer before tumbling into bed at 7:30.  I slept solidly, except for an hour or so around midnight, until 8:30am when Glen's rumbling stomach woke us.

Last Days of our Holiday

When we began our vacation, we made a list of things which we felt we must accomplish. Well, suffice to say, it must have been a true holiday as much of the list did not get done with some items never more than vague ideas. However, our plans to golf, entertain family, and make/renew friendships did happen.

On Friday, August 5th, we met with our friends, Diane and Tony, to spend the day together in Sooke. It was a warm morning in Victoria but when we reached Sooke, the fog rolled in and the temperature dropped. I hadn't brought a coat so knew I'd be freezing on the beach.

French Beach was our destination since we missed seeing it with the grandkids. We hoped to see whales but the place was pretty much deserted both on the sand and in the water. There were large kelp beds off-shore but despite our searching, we didn't see any sea otters. The beach did offer some photo-ops and Tony lent me his jacket so I was warm.

At the end of the long beach, was a rock formation with fantastic tidal pools. Large anemones and mussels crowded out huge barnacles. The pattern and textures were amazing and something my camera had trouble capturing. At first, the anemones looked like elastic bands buried in the sand (see picture) so we felt we'd enter some foreign landscape. I've never seen them so big in the wild.

After exploring the pools, we relaxed on a driftwood log and watched a bald eagle dive into the surf to rise with a fish in its talons. It was great seeing such majesty. It reminded us that noon approached so we returned to Sooke and the Stickleback Restaurant. By this time, the sun had burned through the fog so we enjoyed the patio overlooking the calm waters of the cove. I ate 'The Bank' which was pieces of halibut on a homemade burger bun while Glen feasted on their West Coast Club made with fish and seafood.

Later, we chatted to the man who ran the kayak rental store, Rush Adventures, next door and learned all we needed to know about how his kayaking/adventure business works. Tony and Diane are avid canoeists but wanted to do some paddling on the sea. We also thought it would be a fun venture for the next time we're in Victoria.

Packing was next on our agenda after we left Diane and Tony. When you live in a place for longer than a week, you tend to spread out to fill the space. I gathered together all the stuff we wanted to take back to Calgary and packed two boxes and our golf clubs. Saturday, I did a laundry then packed our suitcases. After lunch, we walked to Willows Beach to have one last look at the ocean. On the way home, we stopped at our favourite butcher, Slaters, for some steaks for supper then Glen packed the car.

Sunday morning, we cleaned, laundered sheets and towels, and prepared the condo for our departure. We caught the noon ferry and had a very pleasant crossing. Usually we leave later, staying in Tsawwassen to rise early the next day to make the 10 hour drive home. This time we decided to drive to Salmon Arm, breaking the journey into two.

We stayed at the Best Western Salmon Arm. Little did I know the place was close to the highway and Glen's favourite gas station. It was 7:00 pm when we arrived but we'd made reservations so had no fears of not having a room. The place filled up pretty quickly after that. A nearby pub, the Hideaway, offered 10% off to motel guests so we went there.

Our server, who called himself Uther, was very good and ended up telling us about his young son and his own vacation. He had a new tattoo which we admired. The food was good -- Glen had spaghetti and meatballs and I had jambalaya made with penne pasta and chorizo. The garlic toast was a taste of heaven.

Since the air conditioner in our room was noisy, we didn't hear any traffic noise or the sound of the nearby railway. We rose at 7:00 am and ate our complementary breakfast in a small nook in the lobby. We battled everyone else for food and a table. That's when I realized the last time I had breakfast in a Best Western, it was in Harbin and I ate with chopsticks.

We were in Golden, BC by noon so stopped at our favourite bistro, the Whitetooth. Normally it's winter when we eat here so really enjoyed their outside tables where we could watch the town's comings and goings. We both had the Deli Special which involved lots of veggies, cheese, and turkey on toasted panni. I had an excellent fish soup with mine.

We were home in time for a small supper then the unpacking began.

Farewell to Family

Tuesday, July 26th we said goodbye to the grandkids and their parents. We got to the ferry terminal early so they could get good places in the pre-boarding section. I picked up a free magazine and read the articles to Glen while sitting in the van. We wanted to see them leave and close that chapter on our vacation. Their journey home was uneventful but they did travel in a car, a ferry, a train, and an airplane so utilized many modes of transportation.

The nice thing about the condo is it cleans up quickly. We soon had everything back where it should be and a beach's worth of sand sucked from the carpets. It was then Glen decided to paint the dining room. We got paint chips from the local hardware store and chose a yellow-green that would blend nicely with the other greens in that area of the apartment.

Thursday, we golfed again at Mt. Doug, this time with two young guys. Glen said he was sure they were not happy to be teeing off with old folks but that's what you get at Mt. Doug. My first tee shot was within 50 yards of the hole, far past their efforts so that showed them we could keep up. I swear the average age of the golfers on Mt. Doug is 75 so young'uns must know they'll be matched with older players.

Friday morning we walked downtown to meet Glen's grad student, Claudia, and her family. We were expecting her son and husband to be there but instead were introduced to her two sisters, a sister-in-law, brother and niece and nephew. They had done a tour Glen suggested the day before but wanted something a little different from us. We took them to Fan Tan Alley, then across the Johnson Bridge to Esquimalt where I showed the kids some tidal pools. We found hundreds of baby crabs hiding under the rocks which sent them into gales of laughter. They wanted to check out Fisherman's Wharf so we walked back along Wharf Street, past the Empress Hotel, the waterfront vendors, the Legislature Building, and the ferry terminals until finally reaching the wharf at lunch time.

We parted company so they could enjoy fish and chips on the wharf. As we walked back, I suggested we stop for lunch at a place which had air conditioning. It was a hot day and I had forgotten my hat (I ended up buying a hand-painted one near the legislature). I knew I couldn't eat outside. We ended up at the Irish Times pub and I had a veggie wrap and Glen had pizza, both delicious. We walked home then went to buy our paint.

Saturday, we headed back to Finest at Sea to buy some salmon, oysters, and mussels. Glen then prepped the dining room for painting. We had a fantastic supper although at one point there was a small fire in the BBQ. One bizarre moment came when I had an odd tasting oyster. It's the first time I've had an oyster taste funny but I thought nothing of it until I lay awake that night feeling quite ill.

We had planned to hit the driving range on Sunday morning but I couldn't look at breakfast so went straight back to bed. I slept most of the day while Glen painted the dining room.

Monday, I felt better so we headed to the driving range. Glen then did some touch-up painting after lunch but that went badly so after golfing on Tuesday at Mt. Doug, he repainted the entire room.

Wednesday, we did some chores then had a wonderful lunch at Christies with our good neighbours, Cynthia and Ray. We did a lot of laughing and the staff let us linger well past the lunch hour.

We decided to do coffee at Starbucks in the Fairfield shopping centre then see if we could find a letterbox without Melissa. I had my stamp kit and the directions so we plunged into the Ross Bay Cemetery in search of two boxes. We found one which was well worth the hunt.

This morning, we were back golfing. This was the last time on Mt. Doug until next year. We met up with two couples with whom we've golfed this summer so it was like a reunion of sorts. But today, we played with Doug who was a retired military man. He had quirky sense of humour which suited us well. I still struggled with my putting but did smack a drive 180 yards (according to Glen's measuring) and I hit the ball on the green on the last hole and nearly put it in the cup. Glen has begun to relax so his drives are sailing out there. It is so nice to watch them arch over the course. Of the seven games we've played here in Victoria, he's won four but hasn't beaten me by much.

Double-double Day

Geoff wanted a relaxing day as a prelude to their trip home. Well, I don't think there is such a thing when Armstrongs are on holiday. The boys decided for their last day, it would be double donut day. Since the closest Tim Hortons (famous for double-double coffee--double cream, double sugar) was downtown, we piled into the van and headed there. We took a detour through Market Square before reaching the donut shop.

There was a great deal of time spent deciding on which donut to choose but finally decisions were made. We bought a dozen donuts and a couple of coffees. The place was full so the boys enjoyed their treat on a separate table. I can't remember the last time I had more than one donut but it left me with a sugar high.

After lunch, the kids were expected to nap (they didn't) while Mom and Grampy slept. Geoff wanted to do lattes at Moka House so he and I walked to the one about a block away. We came home to everyone wide awake.

Barbecued chickens were on the menu for supper so Melissa and Geoff headed out to buy a lovely bottle of wine to compliment them. The boys had double drumsticks for supper topping off double-double day.

Sooke, Puke, and Spit

Okay, I realize the title sounds vile but it actually describes how we spent Sunday, July 24th. Our first task was to drive Geoff to a bike shop, Coastal Cycle, on the Galloping Goose Trail. Here he got outfitted with a bike, helmet, and toolkit for the ride to Sooke. He felt it would take him 2 hours to reach this town southwest of Victoria. In the meantime, we would drive there and explore French Beach which my sister, Lynda, had recommended.

All was going according to plan until we hit the winding roads approaching the town. Elijah said he felt sick so we pulled over to the side of the road (they are narrow so there isn't much room). He tried but nothing was forthcoming until we resumed our journey. Fortunately, we had some cloth grocery bags which were pressed into service. We stopped at the Sooke Information Centre to mop things up and give Elijah some time to bounce back. I did some Christmas shopping in the gift shop and Melissa bought a souvenir.

Elijah felt he was better but we decided French Beach was probably asking too much of him so revised our plans and made our way to Whiffen Spit on the edge of town. We didn't get far when the last food in Elijah's stomach left him. We pressed on knowing the spit would give the boys fresh air and a chance to play.

Meanwhile, we had decided the pub where we'd planned to meet Geoff was not kid friendly. Fortunately, he felt the same way and I received a text from him as we walked the spit. We told him where we were and that Elijah was not ready to get back into the van. Geoff courageously drove along the narrow highway until he reached the spit just as we were making our way back to the parking lot. He stripped out of his gear and we stashed the bike into the back of the van.

We then headed to a drug store to buy some Gravol which helped settle Elijah's stomach although he could only eat soup when we got to the Stickleback Restaurant. This kid-friendly restaurant is on a tiny, sheltered cove where kayakers launch their boats and others come to learn how to paddle. We sat outside in the sunshine and the kids were given a drawing to colour while we waited. Mile's fancy macaroni came in a pirate ship so he was thrilled. Geoff and Glen had burgers which they raved about.

Both Elijah and Miles slept until we reached Coastal Cycle. After returning the bike, we headed home for a quiet evening.