A Month Of Sundays (Well Almost)
We were up with the birds this morning and bundled into Sam’s car as he’d very kindly committed to the pre-dawn commute to the airport for Maisy & I. Some initial wrong calculations when weighing our bags had me worried for a minute that I’d have to ditch some baggage in order to be allowed to fly. Maths corrected, I was good to go, even if I did happen to pack 8 pairs of shoes for 7 days (Sam made me say that).
Ross has a work conference this week in Vancouver so the two of us are fortunate enough to tag along for the ride. It will only be for a week but we are stoked to be able to see this part of Canada and explore what it has to offer.
We kissed our wonderful chauffeur farewell and headed for check-in. Once it was established that he hadn’t packed any firearms or antlers (I’m serious) Air Canada ushered us onboard their non-stop flight to Vancouver and handed us a blanket, but not before some customary bad selfies on the ramp. Then...like a bucket of prawns in the sun...we were off.
Seated next to the kind gentleman who had offered some much-needed but poorly executed selfie tips earlier, the flight was fairly incident free, save for the shower of water that Maisy copped in the lap when a poor cabin crew member lived her worst nightmare, as she stood poising the laden water jug in the general vicinity of the plastic cup and missed her target completely. Nothing a wad of serviettes couldn’t fix.
Faced with 14 hours of uninterrupted movie-watching time and a plethora of options available, it’s always a gamble which flick to pick. Unfortunately I chose to watch, not one, but two movies that have possibly just edged into my top 5 WORST movies of all time. Both of them were woeful - one about a couple that have the most awkward first night of marriage in the history of first nights of marriage and that’s ALL the movie is about and the other, about an environmentally sustainable project whereby people are shrunk to 5 inches tall in an attempt to save the world. Matt Damon, you should have known better.
We arrived in beautiful Vancouver, albeit a little worse for wear, and were eventually reunited with Ross at his hotel room, after I had to write down the address for the Canadian taxi driver who seemed to think I was speaking Swahili. Mind-bogglingly, we arrived here, Sunday morning, before the time on Sunday morning we’d actually left Sydney. Amazing. That International Dateline! Gets me every time.
We spent the sunny but chilly afternoon wandering the city streets and aiming to get our bearings. It’s amazing how much is still shut here on a Sunday. Ross had gone for an early morning jog, having travelled here the day before us, so had scoped the city sights for us. He led the way. It soon became apparent though that Maisy was close to sleeping while walking. She was hankering for a nap so we made a bee-line for her pillow and curtailed the sightseeing for the rest of the day.
Tonight, post-napping, we visited a great church, with a bit of an Aussie connection (thanks Julie!) We were very warmly welcomed, with invitations for dinner later in the week and one legend of a lady, giving us her business card and telling us she’d be our human GPS. If ever you find yourselves lost, just give me a holler, you hear?! Given my track record, she may be sorry she said that.
