May 22, 2012 – This morning was still cloudy, and there was a little bit of water spitting from the sky, but by early afternoon the sky was blue and that fabulous Mediterranean sea was finally showing its true colours. In other words, today was fabulous!

We slept late this morning since we had stayed up late down in the hotel lounge. Not a bar, but a wonderful room with couches and chairs and art books and magazines, where the owner will serve you just about any alcohol you might wish for, and has a good selection of wines that he likes. It was just us, enjoying a bottle of wine in the dim light, and around midnight we took the remains of the bottle up to our room so he could lock up. So we slept in. It’s not like we have a schedule of any sort, and even when we do plan something, we rarely actually do it since something else usually takes our fancy.

A schedule is just a backup plan.

So after breakfast of crusty baguette, fresh croissant with apricot jam, coffee, orange juice, and a madeleine, we set off on foot for Antibes to visit the Picasso museum, maybe. The Chagall museum and the Matisse museum were also on the potential list, but we never made it to either, because we eventually ended up at Fort Carre, where we hadn’t planned to go until tomorrow. But I jump ahead.

We walked on the road near the train tracks, knowing the next stop in that direction was Antibes, so we couldn’t get lost, well, we probably could have – this is “US” after all – but we didn’t.

We came down into Anitbes and ended up near the bus station and then wandered down into the warren of narrow streets and Mediterranean architecture that make up Old Antibes. It felt very similar to many of the shop areas that we visited in the Greek Islands, and as a result, felt familiar. The cobbled streets are far removed from the luxury down near the marinas.

Antibes was founded by the Greeks over 2000 years ago with the name Antipolis. Shortly afterwards it was incorporated into the expanding Roman empire when it was known as Antiboul. With the fall of the Roman empire Antibes was a target of pirates and raiders until the growing power of Genoa removed most of these menaces.

Around the 11th century AD Antibes was a feudal town whose eventual overlord was the Pope. In 1384 it passed into the hands of the Grimaldi family – the former Genovese merchant princes who had now moved westwards to Monaco and Nice – as collateral to a loan that the Pope could not repay. Shortly after this Antibes became the easternmost port of the kingdom of France – at that time Nice was part of Savoy – and thus was extremely important. Over the years, and particularly during the 100 years war, it’s port was continually fortified and expanded, culminating in the Fort Carré and the Port Vauban finished in 1710.

The first tourists arrived at Cap d’Antibes in the 1880s and the adjacent town of Juan les Pins was built at the end of the 19th century. Although it expanded, during the early 20th century Antibes was less developed than its neighbours on the French Riviera and was thus a haven for artists such as Picasso and later Nicolas de Staël. ~ Wikipedia

We wandered in and out of shops, expensive and not, and I found a treasure in a small artist’s silver and stone jewellery shop. A lovely and very unique necklace that I will treasure.

After wandering for a couple of hours, we popped out into the Cours Massena which becomes a bustling market each morning. We were close to lunch and many of the sellers were packing up their goods, but we still managed to buy a couple of Nutella macarons from a seller with a dizzying array of flavours. There were olive vendors with a dozen or more varieties, and a vendor selling potatoes with a selection of 18 varieties. Dozens of types of tomatoes, carrots, and other fruits and vegetables that we are never lucky enough to see in our pathetic stores.

From there we headed down to the Museé Picasso, except that we found that it was closed – like so many places – between 1200 and 1400. So with that knowledge, we backtracked to the Couse Massena to find a spot for lunch. I can’t recall the name, but as we walked along, the busiest (and smallest) cafe seemed like an obvious choice. We have found over the years that the busiest places, and those patronized by locals, are generally the best. And we weren’t disappointed. It was tiny, cramped, and the food was delicious and reasonably priced. I had a crêpe bretonne and a Kir blanc, Kirk had a crepe complête and a rosé.

Then it was back to the museum, the two Japanese women sitting immediately next to us (more like with us) at the cafe were also there, apparently also killing time while waiting. Like good little Canadians we walked up the ramp and stood in line. Eventually we noticed that several couples were bypassing the line and going in, so we went and asked. Apparently the line was for groups/tours. Such Canadians – we saw a line and we automatically stood in it. We were happy to discover that (for whatever reason) tickets were half price today, so instead of six euros each, it was three.

The Museum is located within the Château Grimaldi at Antibes, which is built upon the foundations of the ancient Greek town of Antipolis.

In 1608 it became a stronghold of the Grimaldi family and has borne their name ever since. In 1946 it was the home for six months of the artist Pablo Picasso. Today it is home to the Picasso Museum. From 1702 it became the town hall of Antibes. From 1925 it was known as the Grimaldi Museum, and is today known as the Picasso Museum, the first museum in the world to be dedicated to the artist. Picasso himself donated works to the museum, most notably his paintings “The Goat” and “La Joie de Vivre”. In 1990 Jacqueline Picasso bequested many works by Picasso to the museum. These included 4 paintings, 10 drawings, 2 ceramics and 6 etchings. These are displayed at the Château in addition to the 3 works on paper, 60 etchings and 6 carpets by Pablo Picasso which the museum collected between 1952 and 2001. Today the collection totals 245 works by Picasso. ~ Wikipedia

The art was wonderful. Many sketches, paintings, some pottery, and a large collection of painted plates. None of the descriptions were in English, but I found that I could actually translate more than I’d anticipated. Apparently more French stuck from high school than I thought. I can often decipher written French to some extent, but I get lost very quickly when people speak it.

On that note, all of the stop signs here say “Stop”, not “Arrét”. That seems strange to me.

The museum has a small outside area overlooking the ramparts of the wall and when we emerged we discovered that the day had changed from cold and grey, to warm and sunny, with fabulous blue skies that lit up the Mediterranean and finally revealed that colour that I had longed for since the last time we were in Greece.

And of course we had no sunscreen. I meant to buy some, it’s not like pharmacies are difficult to find. Look up and down the streets and keep an eye out for a neon flashing green cross and a pharmacy will be below it. We already visited one for some insect cream since the local population of biting bugs quickly discovered Kirk had arrived. The cortisone cream the pharmacist provided for a few paltry euros has not left his pocket since!

We wandered back through Old Town, and headed down for Port Vauban. Time to go feel like a peasant again. We walked up along the ramparts of Port Vauban and found a huge art installation that can be found (in a smaller rendition) in English Bay back in Vancouver. We found ourselves meandering along behind some of the largest private/charter yachts in the world. I started to document some names because it seemed unlikely that these wouldn’t be listed somewhere in the top 100 yachts.

We saw:

Dilbar 110m (360ft) with a 16m (52ft) beam and number 21 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Lady Moura – 104m (344ft) with a 19m (62ft) beam and number 24 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Nirvana (oh and she was a beauty!!) – 87m (285.5ft) with a 14.2m (46’7″) beam and number 48 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world. The Nirvana was being cleaned (like they all were) and a half dozen crew had the side of the vessel opened up to load back four big jet-skis and a speedboat into the garage. The speedboat (aka the dinghy) was about 30 feet long and stunning, with the same lines as her mothership.

Kingdom 5KR (the ugliest superyacht around these parts) – 86m (282′) long with a beam of 13.2m (43’4″) and number 50 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Lady Sarya – LOA of 76.31m (250’4″) and a beam of 11.58m (38′) and number 92 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Anastasia (lovely vessel) – 75.5m (247’8″) LOA and a beam of 13.4m (44′) and number 95 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Northern Star – LOA of 75.4m (247’5″) and a beam of 13.5m (44’3″) and number 97 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Polar Star – LOA of 62.97m (206’7″) and a beam of 11.9m (12’2″)

Eminence – LOA 78.43m (257’4″) and a beam of 12.4m (40’8″) and number 80 on the list of the largest 100 superyachts in the world

Hermitage – LOA of 68.15m (223’7″) and a beam of 12.8m (12′)

We have also seen the following vessels at anchor here:

“A” (definitely one of the uglier superyachts around!) – 119m (390’5″) LOA and a beam of 18.87m (61’11″) and ranking number 14 on the list of the 100 largest superyachts int eh world.

Nero (seen in Cannes yesterday) – 90.10m (295’7″) LOA with a beam of 12m (39’4″)

Rising Sun – 138m (454 ft) – This vessel is at anchor off the beach here in Juan les Pins – Kirk thought it was a cruise ship! It is the 8th largest superyacht in the world!

Ice – LOA of 90.1m (295’7″) and a beam of 15m (49’3″) makes Ice the 38th largest superyacht in the world. Ice was anchored just outside of the marina in Antibes.

Those are the ones I could identify….

I find it funny that the lengths actually list to the inch…really, because the 3″ make all the difference on a 300 foot boat! And as we were leaving we looked at a “small” boat between to of the Megayachts, it said it was a Mangusta 92′ and we thought, no, that’s not 92 feet long, it looks like it’s 50 or 60 feet long. The 92′ must mean something else. A walk along the marina and into more normal sized boats and we stopped next to a 42′ Dufour, and realized how screwed up our relative perspective on boat sizes was after being near those megaliths. That “little” boat really was a 92 footer, and it looked small, really small, to us.

We needed to get back to reality, so we stopped and watched a group of older men play a cutthroat game of boulés for awhile, before heading up to Fort Carré. We walked up and around the ramparts and looked down into the marina and over the city before heading back to Old Town for a snack at a cafe. I told the waiter we would like a Tiramisu, a café cremé, and an espresso. He seemed confused and repeated “tiramisu?” back to me. “Oui, tiramisu.” “Sweet?” Kirk replied “Si!” Now the poor fellow was really confused. It was dinner time, we were apparently ordering dessert without dinner, and then Kirk answered in Spanish, with a french pronunciation, when he was obviously English speaking. We finally got our tiramisu and coffees, and they were excellent.

A walk back to Juan les Pins where we thought we would have a late dinner by the beach, we thought wrong. Restaurants have no rhyme or reason here. We did get a table on the beach and a bottle of wine with some crostini and tapenade, but they had stopped serving dinner and said if we would like dinner to come back tomorrow. Most things are open every day “except Monday”, and those restaurants that are open Mondays don’t seem to be open Tuesdays. Some are only open on weekends, and some only open for breakfast and lunch. Some show dinner menus, but we still haven’t encountered them open. Some serve late and are well patronized, some seem to close around 7pm. And the menus may or may not have english, so my interpretive skills have been growing, turns out that the vast majority of French that I know relates to food. One particular restaurant had a great food selection section – Snaking – and although we were tempted to ask for some snakes, we decided not to. In general though, it’s a crap shoot for finding a place to eat, but it probably has a little bit to do with the time of year, although according to our hoteliér, not completely.

And now, with the sound of fireworks carrying from Cannes, scooters racing up and down the roads, and the occasional blaring radio, we are enjoying a bottle of red wine back in our room.

Another great day, only a slight sunburn. I should probably find a pharmacy and buy some sunscreen.

Only the one photo right now, it’s late and I want to get to sleep. More photos from today to come tomorrow, which will probably still be today back home, depending on what time I wake up anyway… just too many to sort through tonight.

May 21, 2012 – Today the plan was to go back to Antibes and visit the Picasso museum.

But plans are made to be broken.

We decided to walk into Juan les Pins and check out the train station to get an idea of cost and schedules. When we arrived, the schedule indicated that the train went through on the way to Cannes about every half hour or so.

So, still picking sand out of our teeth from the winds yesterday, we decided to go to Cannes instead.

We went up to the booth and I said “Deux pour Cannes” and he said something back to me, and I stared at him blankly. Like I said, I have rudimentary French skills. He then said “Round trip?” OH! Yes please! “9.40 Euros”. Kirk said “For two” and the ticket agent looked at us like we were a bit stupid and said “Oui!” and handed us a ticket when we handed him a ten euro note. So it cost about 2.70 euros each way for each of us.

A British fellow had been in front of us and had asked which train to Cannes, the agent had said, “Not this next one.” When we went out onto the platform there were a lot of people, and a train rolled in shortly thereafter. The board said something other than Cannes, so we didn’t get on. But everyone else did, including the British fellow. When we were standing there alone, I realized that the board held more information, like the fact that the train that we didn’t get on had a stop in Cannes. Oh well, another one would be along in 30 minutes.

So, once we finally got on the train, it only took about ten minutes before we were deposited at a VERY busy station, at which the train basically emptied and we were carried along in a wave of people and out into one very, very busy city.

The Cannes Film Festival is in full swing, and the city has become swollen with people. Shopping is very high end here, the city is filled with money, and the goods are priced to take it from them. Jewellery and watches fill windows, prices in the tens of thousands of euros. The rain held off for a couple of hours, and then started to fall. Have you ever noticed that umbrellas seem unimportant until you need one? We went into a store to see if we could buy one and retreated when a simple little one cost 24 euros. Eventually we found a couple at half that cost. We needed them not only to keep our heads dry, but also to defend ourselves against others.

We walked down past the closed off Festival tents and into the marina and were simply agog at the vessels moored within. Many were being used as bases for film related parties and associated business shmoozing. Some had garages built into the transom, and some of these contained 20+ foot boats. Some had entertainment rooms instead of a garage. One had a glass hot tub with an outside waterfall. There were two sailboats docked in between all the monster power boats, and the sailboats were as big if not bigger than the biggest of the power boats. We were just amazed at the money sitting there. And then Kirk pointed at three cars and said “That Lamborghini in the middle is worth between $400 and $600 thousand dollars, and it’s flanked by two relatively cheap $150,000 Mercedes.” We walked to the end of the pier and looked out across to a massive (as if the others weren’t) vessel that was being cleaned. To put it into perspective, a “small” boat passed in front of it, closer to us, I say small, but it was somewhere between 30 and 36 feet, and it looked like a ten foot dinghy. Just astonishing how much money there is here!

We started looking for a late lunch at some point, and moved on when we saw one restaurant with hotdogs prices at 14 euros! Eventually we found something a little more realistic. Food is expensive here, but in general, portions are also generous enough that many things – like pizzas – are more than large enough to fill two people easily. So we had a bottle of wine and a smoked salmon and olive pizza, and sat and watched the rain from our safe haven.

Eventually the rain let up a bit and we ventured back out into the streets. High above the city, perched on a hill, stood an imposing church and we headed up both to look at it, and to see the view that it provided of the city below. And both were impressive. The narrow streets on the way up provided a respite from the noise and hustle below. It was a nice little interlude before we headed back down into the fray.

There are lots of dogs here. Not many big ones, and not many breeds though. We’ve seen a couple of Westies, two Dobermans, one Rottweiler, a bulldog, a whippet, two Jack Russels, and about 400 Yorkshire terriers. Not sure what makes them so popular, but they are everywhere!

Around 6pm we decided we’d had enough and headed back to the train station. The crush of people was a bit overwhelming and Kirk asked at the information booth where we should go to catch our train. She gave Kirk directions and said our train would be along in ten minutes. We found the right track and waited, and a train rolled in a few moments later. I didn’t think it was the right one, Kirk thought it was, so we got on. When the doors closed a man came along and asked to see our ticket. He gave us a rather haughty huff and told us that we were on the wrong train, but that it was too late, it was pulling out and would not stop in Juan les Pins. It would stop in Antibes instead.

Darn! So we disembarked at Antibes. I just didn’t feel like playing roulette and not buying the ticket back since there was a host of security guards on the platform, so we went inside and bought another ticket for the one stop back – a whole 2.40 euros for both of us.

When we were walking back to the hotel I noticed that all of the restaurants seemed to be closed, didn’t bode well for dinner later this evening. Kirk looked up a few online and they all said the same thing – closed Mondays. Figuring there had to be something open somewhere, we walked back along the waterfront and finally found three or four open. We had a reasonably priced (for here) dinner that was a bit too much food.

While eating we watched a man wobble down the pier man handling a metal road barrier along with him. Every so often he would stop and lean on it, apparently catching his wind. When he got to the end of the concrete, he fought to throw it over a barrier and then clambered after it. He pushed, pulled, and dragged it over the rocks until he was standing in the waves and then threw it off the end of the pier. Your guess is as good as mine. But that was our dinner entertainment and, other than a walk back to the hotel and a bottle of lovely wine provided by the owner of the hotel, pretty much the end of the day.

May 20, 2012 – We came to life around 7am this morning and Kirk went down to see if my luggage had arrived. It hadn’t. But by the time he walked back to the room, it had! Happy, happy! So once we had cleaned ourselves up we went down for breakfast and feasted on wonderful flaky croissants, fabulous coffee, and crusty baguettes with apricot jam. That took me back to Paris when I was a teenager.

Ahhh, I could now check that off the list!

It was a cloudy morning, the forecast was for 90% chance of rain. No biggie, it’s still the Mediterranean and it is a pleasant temperature. So we donned our warmer and wet protecting clothes and headed out for a walk along the beach. And that took us the rest of the day.

We wandered along the waterfront, admired the street art, and were mind-boggled by the size and array of mega-yachts at anchor in the bay. The beaches are empty, the rush of tourists not yet here, and the weather keeping those that are, indoors today. But the rows of loungers for rent are still tehre, available for the taking.

We watched a fellow racing a remote controlled speedboat around pylons, and we marvelled that the city not only provides more motorcycle and scooter parking than one could possibly imagine, but that it is all free, and much of it completely protected from car damage by being behind fences. Definitely more forward thinking than Vancouver City Council.At one point, we popped out in a small park and there, atop a pole, was a strange piece of art that took us back to our first trip to Greece in 2005 – a pink elephant – the name of our first charter sailboat.

We found ourselves in a large marina, with some impressive boats. We laughed at a pedestrian walk area that was barely shoulder width and Kirk quipped “Single file only”. We laughed even harder moments later when a car backing out forced us to do just that!

As we wandered around the marina at Cap D’Antibes a few raindrops started to fall, so we took shelter under a tree at the edge of the road along the water. The Villas above the fortress like walls were amazing. Eventually we decided to strike inland a bit and wandered up a road where we admired many wonderful rooftops and fabulous gates. Pretty sure we were captured on hundreds of video surveillance cameras. In other words, the Villas are big, walled in, and well protected. These people like their privacy and their security. At one turn we were face to face with two very large dobermans guarding a home – luckily they were behind a very high chain link fence.

As we walked through the narrow streets, slick after the short rainfall, past the amazing Villas, all with unique names on their gates, we realized that on one side of the road were some gardens. We had accidentally found the botanical gardens and decided to try and find the entrance. After going in a large circle we eventually found it (no signage whatsoever for directions), but it was closed on Sundays. So we will come back later perhaps. But we could see it was filled with some impressive trees, including a eucalyptus that looked s straight and white as a massive concrete power pole.

As we carried on we came to a fairly major road and decided to follow it – it took us down into Antibes on the other side of the peninsula where we were knocked around by the heavy winds. As we sat down on a bench at the edge of the sea and watched some crazy kite surfers, both of us were remembering that frightening night at anchor in 2005 off of Kythnos where we thought we might lose our sailboat in these winds. We looked at each other and said “We aren’t on a boat, there is no boat back at anchor waiting for us, stop feeling those butterflies!”

Farther along was what looked like a fortress on the edge of massive walls that went straight down to the crashing waves. There was a narrow road along the top of the walls below the fortress, and we walked along it as cars flew by, inches away. The waves sent water crashing up the walls and the wind carried it up and over – we had a pretty good sea shower. As we rounded a corner we could see a massive marina ahead, it was amazing! The closest boats to us were 26-35 footers, and they looked like dinghies. The next row back were in the range of 60-100 feet in length, and they looked puny in comparison to the ones docked behind them. The lives of the rich and famous were rich there in front of us. Incredible!

We turned a corner and found ourselves on a short street filled with restaurants. All I wanted were crepes, but none of them was a creperie, so we steeled on an Irish pub blaring electronic techno music from within. But the food was good, and Kilkenny trumps Amstel any day.

After that we wandered along, found the Picasso museum, and archaeological museum, an impressive church, a market, and many little shops and bakeries along twisting narrow streets.

On our walk back across the peninsula we again peered through gates at beautiful villas, admired fabulous gardens, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves int eh cool and damp afternoon. The rain started to fall heavily as we came back into Juan les Pins so we ducked into a restaurant where I finally got my crepe and a cafe crema, and Kirk had his espresso. All fabulous! Check that off the list too.

When the rains lifted we carried on and wandered the shops of town. We ended up in a Swatch shop – didn’t even know they were still around – and discovered that Swatches now have a grown up side too. We both left with a new treasure.

Back at the hotel, the lounge wasn’t yet open, and we weren’t hungry because of the crepes at 4pm. We wanted some wine, but the weather had returned, so Kirk went out to find a bottle of wine to bring back to the room. He came back with two bottles, because he said he just couldn’t spend less on wine than he did on an opener. The wine cost three euros each, the opener was eight. Wine is inexpensive here, but that’s about all that is.

Eventually we found ourselves hungry around 9pm, but with the rain coming down heavily, the thought of walking back down to the restaurants on the beach wasn’t appealing, so we looked for something closer. We found a little family restaurant around the corner (literally) and they found us a table for two in a corner. They didn’t speak any English, and my French is less than rudimentary, but we managed with much laughter and many smiles on both sides. I had a wonderful linguine au saumon that was almost more salmon than linguine, and Kirk had a fabulous linguine carbonara – and was a little surprised to receive it with a raw egg in the half shell sitting on top of the pile of pasta. You just wouldn’t get that back home. The wine was great, the food was fabulous, and the bill was surprisingly reasonable.

All that from “Let’s go for a walk.”

Pretty good day 2!

May 19. 2012 – Heathrow Airport for a connection to Nice. A relatively uneventful flight here, Kirk upgraded us to some really great seats with buckets of legroom. It was as comfortable as one could probably get on a nine and a half hour flight without being in First Class. Next stop, Nice!

When we landed in Nice, we waited for our luggage. Kirk found his quickly….mine didn’t materialize. Hmmmm, do I see a new wardrobe in my future?

When the carousel finally came to a stop, several of us were left without our bags. Over to the baggage services to discover that my bag stayed in London. Well, could have been worse, it could still be sitting in Vancouver, in which case I WOULD be shopping for a new wardrobe!

No biggie, it’s evening and it’s not too hot nor too cold, so I’m fine until morning. My bag will apparently arrive at midnight and be delivered to our hotel in the morning.

Our next challenge was getting from the airport to Juan le Pins where our home for the next week is located. We asked a taxi driver and were told it would cost 85 Euros. Seemed a little steep considering that Antibes is only about 5-10km. So we wandered over to the bus stop and decided to try our hand at finding our way there by ourselves. The woman at the ticket booth told us to get on the 250 bus and it would drop us at one of the two stops in Antibes, and another passenger told us to get off at the second stop and find a cab to the hotel from there.

So off we went, no map, no idea, but our driver called out Juan le Pins so off we got and stood there in the middle of a street wondering where we were. A sign indicated the centre of Juan le Pins, so we went in that direction and could see water in the distance. We knew our hotel was close to the water, and near the train tracks, and was located at 5 Rue Sainte Marguerite. So we walked along the waterfront until we hit number 5, then walked under the train overpass, and voila! there was our hotel! No taxi needed.

We were given our key, given entry and exit instructions (it is sort of a cross between a B&B and an Inn), breakfast was explained and we dropped our things off in the room (not that I had much with me) and we wandered out to find a late dinner and a few glasses of wine by the seashore before finding our way back to a much appreciated bed.

Now, just hoping my luggage is here for morning….if not, I shop!

May 18, 2012 – YVR has some pretty cool artwork in the International departures area. We are off for a week in the South of France, at the airport obscenely early, for me anyway. We came out extra early for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it is a Friday before a long weekend so the traffic might have been been stupid (it was). Secondly, Kirk has a hunk of metal and close to a dozen metal screws newly implanted into his shoulder and we weren’t exactly sure whether it would be an issue at the security gate or not (it wasn’t). Neither was really a major issue, and we found ourselves our here at the airport and through security before we knew it. And that left us time to have a glass of wine, a bit to eat, an opportunity to view some of the new displays, and buy a pair of earbuds since I forgot mine at home – always something…….

And now I am doing this as fast as I can before the plane taxis away from the terminal and I lose my wifi!

Done!

Bye!

See you in a week!

May 17, 2012 – Getting ready for a holiday….and boy, do we need it. Looking forward to a visit to France, absolutely no plans, but apparently the Cannes Film Festival is on while we are there. Just soooo looking forward to seeing the Mediterranean again. Looking forward to a relaxing, entertaining time filled with wine, good food, croissants, and cappuccinos.

Bring it on!

April 15, 2012 – Ever have those days when you get up and say to each other “What should we do today?” Neither one of us could figure out what to get up to this morning, so we went down, had breakfast, and pondered it. We checked out of the hotel, ditched our packs with the concierge, and headed out into a cool morning with a hot cup of Starbucks coffee. it’s Seattle, what else can one possibly drink in the morning?!?

Left or right?

Right.

Kirk thought we should go up instead of down We hadn’t ever walked above 6th. Off we went, zig-zagging our way up the steep streets in the quiet Sunday morning. We crossed over the I5 and kept going. We ended up on First Hill, wandered through the hospital area (Pill Hill), and enjoyed the serenity of the residential areas above the city. The birds were alive in the old mossy trees.

We found ourselves walking down a street and heading for a commercial district when a voice behind us suddenly asked “Are you tourists or photography students?” We turned to find a friendly gentleman right behind us. We said tourists, and his next questions was “Well then what are you doing here? Most tourists don’t venture up towards Capitol Hill” We got into a fabulous discussion with him, and when he asked where we were from, he was thrilled to find out we were Canadian. I think he may have known more about Canada than most Canadians do. He said out loud “What can we find for you to do up on Capitol Hill?” and proceeded to direct us towards a park that he said was well worth a visit. He said it was about 3/4 of a mile, and then put his hand to his mouth and laughed and said “Listen to me, I am speaking like a Canadian”. That was entertaining – that “about” thing just follows Canadians all over the US, and most of us just don’t really get it.

He told us about a reservoir water tower that afforded a unique view of the city, and a conservatory that was free and worth a visit. He told us about a cemetery not much farther on, where Bruce Le was buried – had we heard of Bruce Lee? Oh yes, sounded familiar We must have stood there on the street chatting with this fellow for 20 minutes or more. He brought up Pierre Berton’s writings, Rick Mercer’s comedy (and said that “We (Americans) don’t have as good a sense of humour”. He told us about a fabulous independent bookstore, and gave us walking directions.

When we finally parted ways, our lack of plans had changed dramatically. We took his directions and visited the bookstore, which turned out to be the bookstore that had gone missing from Pioneer Square on our last visit. They had moved. I recognized the sign in the window when we turned to enter. The Elliot Bay Bookstore.

After that we walked a block off his directions of Broadway, since we had found a park that paralleled it. Eventually we popped out where the road diverged and continued on with his directions. We walked through some fabulous old residential areas, past wonderful old apartments buildings made of brick, with carriage houses in the back. Eventually we arrived at the street to turn up, and headed up through some overwhelming old mansions, to see the edge of the park ahead of us. We walked through the serenity of the trees, and followed the edge of the reservoir up to the Asian Art Museum at the top of the park. We sat and enjoyed the view over the city, before setting out to find the water tower. The imposing structure was reminiscent of the old Saxon towers, and we climbed the 106 metal steps that circled the inside of the wall to the top, where we could peer through open windows with wrought iron bars, and look over the different views of the area below. We could see downtown, the Seattle Space Needle, Lake Washington and Mercer Island. It was lovely.

When we climbed back down, we headed over to the conservatory, where we marvelled at orchids, bromeliads, sago palms, flowering tiger maples, pitcher plants, and countless other wondrous botanical treasures. And as we looked through one of the leaded glass windows, Kirk said “the cemetery!” So we made or way out, and along the street below to find the entrance.

It’s not a small cemetery.

We had no idea where to look for Bruce Lee’s grave. But I also figured this would probably be a bit touristy and maybe, just maybe, there would be people looking for it that may have a better idea where they were going. And I was right. We saw a car with about a half dozen people get out and spread out a bit. I thought, if they are looking for a family member’s site, they probably would be a bit more cohesive, so I watched closely. We wandered over to where they ended up, and we found ourselves looking at the graves of Bruce, and Brendon Bruce, Lee.

When we left, we walked back through the park and wove our way through various tree lined residential streets, marvelling at the old architecture. We found some fabulous little community areas, coffee shops, funky neighbourhoods that we will try to spend a bit more time in on our next visit. And eventually we popped out at the top of Pine and 8th, just above the convention centre, very parched and in need of a beverage.

So down to Post Alley we went, planted ourselves outside at table at Kell’s Irish Pub, ordered a light lunch, and drank beer until it was time to collect our packs and head for the train.

Funny how no plans can transform into an incredibly full day that covers a LOT of territory.

Love this sister city of ours!

Thanks random stranger on Capitol Hill, you made our day! So very glad that we looked friendly enough to be approachable to receive your suggestions.

April 14, 2012 –  Up at 4:30am to pack a few things, feed the monsters, and catch a cab to the train station to head down to Seattle, today we were walking down the street and fond ourselves following four colourful bears. We are wondering if it is Seattle, or us. When we came down here for the motorcycle show in December we encountered thousands of Santas – Santa-con. Tired? Hallucinating? Soon after that we started to come across some people wearing bunny ears. Seemed strange, but we figured it had to do with the fact that there were both a Mariners game (baseball) and a Sounders game (soccer) on this afternoon. We couldn’t figure out the connection, but hey, who are we to judge?

We had a great lunch at the Collins Pub, and then spent the afternoon wandering about town. We decided to take in a comedy show and found that there is an improv theatre near the Market, off Post Alley somewhere. We ended up down near Pike Place and strolled into Post Alley looking for the theatre. After no success, we stopped in Sur la Table and asked for directions. The woman told me to “Go down to the Market, past the place where they throw the fish, down the stairs and into the alley, along the gum wall”, and we’d find the theatre. Ummm – OK.

Gum Wall?

Kirk didn’t hear that part, but we both knew where they throw the fish, and we found the staircase to the alley. As we descended the stairs I caught a sight through a window that shocked and amazed me, and revolted me even more.

The “Gum Wall”.

Ever stumble on a tourist attraction you almost wished that you hadn’t?

Kirk was astounded. I at least had heard the directions and been wondering what they were referring to. I’d thought to myself “Nah, couldn’t be something that gross.”

I was wrong.

Words can’t describe it. Except to say that it is a brick wall, covered – and I do mean covered – in chewed gum. All those times in this area and we had never heard of this, nor had we stumbled onto it. It’s amazing to behold, and revolting to consider. As we stood there looking at it, a local came down the stairs after us and said to us “You don’t want to touch that wall”. No, no I don’t.

The theatre box office wasn’t yet open, so we headed off for a walk along the upper reaches of Post Alley. As we rounded a corner, we were confronted with a massive number of people dressed as bunny rabbits, bears, chickens, and even a skunk. They were spilling out of several bars along the alley.

Not a clue why! What is it with this city and Saturday costumes?

After some laughter, and a transit through the crowds, we headed off to Purple for dinner, and to try some new wines. After that, we headed back, picked up tickets, and then went off to kill the hour until the show. We went back to the upper part of Post Alley and found an outside table at the Wine Tasting Room, where we asked about the bunny mob, and were told that it was thought to be some Facebook generated gathering, “Bunny-con”, that even the bar owners had not been prepared for.

You just never know what you are going to encounter in this city!

After a bottle of wine we ended up back at the Market Theatre for the show – “BYOM” (Build Your Own Musical), where they quizzed the audience for input and then put on a very funny show. At one point Kirk was pulled from the audience to be the “Director”, and direct he did. Flamboyantly! So glad it was him and not me!

Strange day. Great day!

Oh, and I managed to sunburn my forehead! Awesome, maybe the weather is finally arriving!

April 7, 2012 – The view from the restaurant we accidentally missed last time we were down this way.

Some people make a plan and stick to it come hell or high water.

Not us.

Life, like cooking, is all about flexibility. Last night we’d thought about a ride up to Squamish, maybe Whistler if we didn’t think it might snow. But this morning the weather was so fine that we decided maybe we’d head out to Crescent Beach for lunch. But on the way, we decided maybe the border was calling to us, so instead of taking the White Rock exit, Kirk kept on riding and we found ourselves at the Peace Arch border crossing into the USA, much to my happiness.

This time I decided to cross first, since it seem that every time Kirk does, helmets must come off. It paid off, the guard was friendly and decided to do a very close eye inspection. Told me to ride safely and off I went. And Kirk made it through without a helmet off requirement as well. Nice!

At that point I became the leader as I’ve ridden across the line more than Kirk and have scouted out some good routes. I decided to trim two legs off the route I usually do since we hadn’t eaten much and cutting it down would shave about an hour off the ride to Bellingham (I have a very circuitous route on the motorcycles). It meant a bit of mapless navigation, but I have a pretty good internal compass and managed to intersect the route I usually take.

It’s interesting. The first year I rode the motorcycle it seemed like a wild animal underneath me. What the hell was I thinking being on this thing!?! The next season it felt more familiar, and this spring it was a no brainer, there wasn’t even a re-familiarlization period, and I am pretty comfortable saying that it has everything to do with that wonderful little scooter I ride all year round. I never stop swivelling my head, and I never stop balancing on two wheels, I never stop seeing the world though a helmet, so come spring, well, I never stopped riding at any point and the motorcycle has only been without my attention for a maximum of two months since I leave the insurance on year round and use it if the weather cooperates. I rode it until December 23rd last year! I just have to have patience until Kirk reinsures and we can play on the roads together again, that’s the most awesome day of the year!

Anyway, in through Bellingham, on into Fairhaven, and along that wonderful stretch of road along the coast to find ourselves at the Oyster Bar this time (instead of the Oyster River Inn). Our timing was perfect at this fabulous and extremely popular restaurant, and we managed to nail a top floor front window table where we lounged and enjoyed a wonderful late lunch. Kirk had the fish tacos and I had the smoked salmon chowder that I’d anticipated last time. It was worth the wait. And we finished it off with a mint chocolate trio dessert. Heavenly.

As we gazed out the window we watched the clam diggers on the mud flats, and as the tide started to encroach they packed up their harvest and started the difficult trek back to shore. If you think you have a hard job, watch these guys slog through the mud, occasionally having to drop their load and struggle for ten minutes to get their feet unstuck from what amounts to quicksand. I could feel their exhaustion.

Our waitress was fabulous and suggested an alternate route home. So instead of backtracking, we made every attempt to get lost.

See, here’s the thing. I have a limited capacity to retain directions. If you give me a complicated and detailed series of instructions, I will remember exactly three points.

No more, no less. Just three.

And Kirk isn’t any better.

So if you offer me more, I will politely listen, but shut my brain off because I am frightened that I will forget the three have committed to memory.

Once I manage to complete the three, I will find someone to provide me with another three steps, and so on.

So after lunch, we set off with our first three bits of direction. We made the first turn, followed the directions to NOT take the onramp for the I5 but instead continue on under the freeway, and went left at the stop sign. But when we got to the four way stop with the light overhead, we were hooped, I said left, Kirk said right, and straight ahead looked sort of promising.

We went right, and that was very wrong.

We ended up at the I5 and turned around and rode back. I needed fuel, but we didn’t know where to go, so we stopped at a bar & grill and Kirk went in to ask where a station might be. Back up the original road, and we found a Shell station. I asked for directions and indicated where we were trying to get to, and after much back and forth, someone finally said a few things that twigged the next few bits of directions from our waitress.

Excellent, back down the road and past the bar & grill for the third time, and that road that looked promising straight through the four way flasher, was the right one. And some fabulous roads we discovered. A few counterintuitive turns took us around the bottom of Lake Whatcom and we popped out on a road that was familiar from one of my previous rides. I’ve sometimes found that doing the exact opposite of what my brain tells me should be right, is actually the correct thing to do. Eventually we wound our way up to Sumas and crossed back into Canada, then a nice ride out through Mission and into Port Moody for a coffee before taking the last leg home, with one more nugget of entertainment.

There is a half block section of Hastings Street that is heaved, particularly in the left hand part of the right lane, and Kirk had taken the lead for the run home. So as we rode along Hastings I started to wonder if he’d remember it, then of course I was hoping he’d forget it. And as we crested the rise he was committed to his line and I slipped into the centre of the lane to avoid it all – and laughed hysterically as he bounced along the section. When I finally pulled up beside him at the next red light he just looked at me and said “yeah, yeah, I could hear you laughing behind me” as I doubled over in laughter on the tank of my bike. I was still laughing out loud at the next light and he lifted his visor and said “Really? You are STILL laughing?”

Oh yes. And I’m still giggling now as I write this.

Several hundred kilometres, a fabulous sunny day, a completely off the cuff travel route, a wonderful lunch at an amazing restaurant with a stellar view, life just doesn’t get much better than that.

Except that I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

But it was worth it!

April 4, 2012 – Today was quite possibly the best field day EVER!!!

Vancouver Island, and particularly this region of it, is a very active area for logging. There was a helicopter pilot using Nitinat hatchery as a base to fly fallers into remote areas. On one of his refueling landings, Rob (the hatchery manager) asked him if he would take me and two others out for an aerial view of the region.

I’ve spent a fair bit of time on the West Coast of Vancouver Island, but it has always been in a truck, a boat, or on foot (and no, I’ve never done the West Coast Trail). This area is the last 20-30 miles of the Northern end of the trail, and to see it from the front seat of a helicopter was a dream come true!

It was breathtaking from this vantage point and I felt like a little kid in a candy store, my head was swivelling in all directions.

Have I ever mentioned that I LOVE my job?!?!?

I took a lot more photos than these two, you can see the slideshow here →