Vancouver Island

So the long silence has been for good-ish reason. It has been a whirlwind the past few months and it is hard to know where to begin. I guess where we left off?

After our delightful skiing adventure in Whistler, we jumped on a ferry from Vancouver to Victoria, Vancouver Island, where we stayed with fantastic family friends in what can only be described as the most stunning coastal house I have ever seen. 

Based in North Saanich, their home’s back garden actually led out onto the ocean. It was phenomenal. In the three fabulous weeks we spent there we saw a myriad of wildlife from the comfort of the beautiful deck. There were bald eagles regularly visiting the trees a mere 50m away, sea otters flapping about the boat 20m from shore, a massive sea lion killing a mighty big fish just as close and many a seal floating past looking for its dinner.

Not only that, but on the way to a stunning hill walk we actually drove behind another bald eagle trying to lift a dead raccoon from the road and fly off. I have put the video of it below. There are just some things you never expect to see and this was certainly one of those moments.

During our second week, our wonderful hosts had arranged to visit their children in San Francisco so asked if we could please dog-sit while they were away for five days. It was a no brainer. We were delighted to look after their home and their lovable, bounding, energetic, thinks-he-is-human dog.

Everybody meet Kula.

Crazy Kula would take us on walks and show us new areas of North Saanich (whether we wanted to see them or not) and was hilarious to play with. He often came and lay down next to me while I was doing Pilates or Yoga and I think he must have thought he was pretty good at it as after a while he would push me over and roll around showing off.

During those three weeks, with a little influence from the amazing climate and a lot of great stories from our hosts, we decided that we wanted to stay in Victoria and test it out. Amazingly we found a gorgeous little lower lever apartment just minutes from Oak Bay that we could move in to immediately and that was how we came to stay in Oak Bay… for two and a half weeks.

Whistle Stop

There is certainly nothing like learning to ski in Whistler, which is exactly what Lewis ended up doing.

On Thursday morning we made our way on our first ever Greyhound bus to Whistler, due in part to the uselessness of our rental not being allowed past a specific snow line however we were thankful we did as the road was far too beautiful to have concentrated on driving.

We were dropped off in Whistler Village and were overwhelmed at how quiet it was, happy days! We picked up our skis and made our way to the massive, glaring, wafting-in-the-wind, bright blue Ski School banners.  Here we were boldly told by Dave (a Max4 instructor) that there was not a chance that we would be allowed to remain together as I knew how to stand in skis and Lewis did not.

I was swiftly taken to another group consisting of three females who all looked like startled rabbits – Lewis’ group were undoubtedly worse – where they were informed I was a European skier and that they were not to worry too much about me. Hoot! Thankfully two of them got over their fear pretty quickly as we were taken to the top of Whistler mountain – Lewis only made it half way – where we were told just to ski down so ‘Paul’ could monitor our skills. I say ‘Paul’ because for the life of me I cannot remember my instructors name… the shame.

The day was amazing, the weather was fantastic and I was taught how to carve properly – I have picked up some very bad habits apparently.

As myself and an Aussi woman skied off the mountain, we stopped at the half way point for a breather where we (I) were accosted by a very happy and bounding Lewis who was delighted with his progress that day. He skied down the baby hill with the magic carpet without falling. Success comes in a variety of forms I think we can all agree.

By the end of that first day Lewis was absolutely buzzing and prompted us to book skis and return on Friday for more ski fun, however this time it would be lesson-less… we were going solo.

Friday morning brought with it an apprehension I have rarely seen in Lewis, the fearless winter climber that he is! We made our way there via bus again, picked up our skis and got on the gondola to take us to the halfway point which is still a 30 minute journey.

It was an absolutely fabulous day, with fantastic weather and a bit of a wind that kept you nice and cool. Most amazingly Lewis skied off of Whistler Mountain into the village on his second ever day of skiing. I have never been so impressed.

Guess what his new hobby is… yipeee!!!

Shock and awe

We have landed!

With a whirlwind at the airports and a snowy welcome at Vancouver airport, we made it safe and sound to Downtown Vancouver.

Early on Tuesday morning we picked up our astoundingly crap rental car and began our journey north, up Highway 99 also known as the Sea to Sky corridor.
WOW. The views were absolutely stunning! Turn after turn we were welcomed with more mountains and shores of the pacific ocean all sprinkled with snow. It has to be one of the most beautiful drives we ever been on and it only lasted 40 minutes.

We may have gotten a little lost around downtown Squamish  when trying to locate our hotel -should you ever visit it is tiny and made up of about 12 blocks so getting lost is a skill.
Everyone here is so friendly and more than happy to sit and chat about the area and the things to do.

It also appears there are more Europeans here than Canadians due to one impending rock face that we have stunning views of from our window- The Chief. Lewis is in heaven as Squamish has some of the best climbing in the world and The Chief is, well the Chief. To me it looks rather daunting but Lewis just ogles it in wonder and I have no doubt that if we don't live here that we will be back in summer so he can scale it.

Over the past week we have managed to explore the area quite well and even made our first trip into Walmart as I was hairdryer-less. Walmart is like Macro I think, mostly in the way that the layout of it makes no sense whatsoever. More interestingly however was our walk that was meant to take an hour and instead took us over three. One guess what happened and it wasn't that we got lost.

Smoke Bluffs Park, a little north of our hotel, consists of a spider web of paths that interlink 'amazing crags'. The funnest thing for me was the creative naming of the climbs which quickly became a game to spot the funniest or the weirdest, it makes you wonder what the climbers state of mind was once they completed their projects. Some were clearly more a love-hate relationship.


Lewis absolutely loved how informative the park was and welcoming to climbers as it has maps highlighting where all the climbs were and at the base of each crag was a printed and laminated route map of all the climbs that you could do on that slab of rock. My climbing jargon is atrocious but I think it makes sense...?!
I also love how smoking is banned in the parks and all 'healthy' outdoor recreational areas. Farewell tobacco puffers!!

So far love Squamish, the people and all the things we can do. As Lewis beautifully put, 'there is a sport for every day of the week!!' (eeked his pants).

Now off to Whistler to ski....

The Long Paddle

"We're going kayaking!"
"Oh fun! Where? When?"
"Soon, July time!"

It wasn't July. And it wasn't straight forward kayaking either, or at least what I am used to in the protective shores of Scottish Lochs.

It was a four day trip around the western Scottish isles, which for me means sea. Open, vast, unpredictable, unknown sea. A new outlook on my favourite element that usually evokes a feeling of calm. Yet put me in a kayak, add a few 8 foot waves and locate the shore more than 4km away and WHAM! The sea is a daunting place to be.

So here I am, a kilometre off the north point of Ulva, bobbing up and down between 8 foot swells, wondering what happens next. Believing in my soul that I am destined to bob the seas and oceans as there is no way I am going to reach dry land again. I fold my arms and let the waves rattle me about to spite them and show them that I am not scared. It obviously made no difference.

When we had set out Lewis had been very cautious of me and watched my every move yet somehow, when fear had gripped me and I lost the will to paddle it was at this point he believed me to be perfectly happy rather than the reality that I temporally lost all motor skills in order to paddle 180° to point me in the direction of a small cove - that seemed to be taking the brunt of these impending waves. What's more, what I had originally thought was inconvenient, the hundreds of feet of water below us with tens of feet of waves coming from a variety of angles appeared to be only 2/3 of the fun, as we were missing on the only remaining angle left, from above. The skies opened and it was an unbelievable downpour.

All this within the first 5 hours.

After sleeping in a very soggy tent, we wake the next morning to find the sun shining and the sea calm (er).

Over the next few days we kayak to the Isle of Staffa, where a few of our friends decided to paddle into a wave infested cave - Fingal's Cave. What seemed sensible to Lewis and the rest of our friends - in my opinion presently dehydrated and therefore disillusioned friends -  was to paddle backwards into the cave and ride the waves out.

Ehm.... I think not.

We also kayaked through flocks of my avian favourites - the mighty puffin - and paddled along the shores of Ulva past dozens of extremely curious seals with their adorable pups.

Of course, the trip would not be complete without a sneaky critter which came on our final night whilst camping on the shores of a stunning secluded sandy beach with seals popping up in the bay - tics. Thousands of them crawling over every garment of clothing we had foolishly laid out to dry. I got one which is amazing seeing as Lewis managed to feed a whopping 19, although I think even that was lucky as I am sure there were thousands on my rain jacket.

It was an epic trip that looking back on, I really did love and would happily do it again. As worried as I was on that first day, the rest of the trip was a breeze particularly on the last day in the middle of the ocean when the guys decided to play tug-of-war with the safety rope. Guess I had found my sea legs by that point.

So what do I think of the sea? Yep, still my calming influence.