It was freezing and wet in Vancouver when I wandered down to Granville and Broadway to catch the Quickshuttle to Seattle. I'd opted for 2 jumpers, and had a beanie in my bag, which didn't stay there all that long as I waited, and waited, and waited for the bus. My ticket said to arrive at least 15 minutes early, but I could have actually shown up 5 minutes late and still had the required waiting time covered.
I was hoping that it would be warmer on the bus, but all I could manage was removing my beanie - the air conditioning was not set for the cold Australian shivering in seat 31. It took us about an hour and a half to complete pick ups and finally make it to the US Border. Once there we sat and sat and sat. Me? I was just pleased that the bus was in the off position and no more air conditioning! It was an uneventful border crossing, I got fingerprinted and retina scanned, paid my $6 for the privilege and that was it - free to come and go as I please for the next 90 days. The whole process took us just under 2 hours - quite good apparently. Unfortunately we were still over 2 hours away from Seattle.
It was after 11pm by the time the bus pulled up in front of the Best Western Executive Inn. Unfortunately this was not where I was staying. I had decided that I would find a cab at this late hour, but as I was standing on the sidewalk waiting my desperation for warmth over-ruled my better judgement, and I started walking the 12 or so blocks. I was trying to not look like the tourist that I was, but I wasn't doing so well at hiding the bright red back pack on my back...I have to say, I was pleased when I got to the nicer blocks on 5th, where the nice stores with the bright street lighting were, there are alot of homeless people around Seattle. Subsequently I was kinda jumpy the whole way there - one guy I passed (not even homeless) said "Hi" and I braced myself to run...
I was happy and warm when I got to the hostel - which then became a nice little self-perpetuating cycle. Even at that hour the hostel was still buzzing, but then Friday night, not surprising really. The hostel was a little grungy, but the bathrooms were immaculate - which still didn't mean I wanted to eat my free breakfast off of it - but its what generally separates the good from the bad in the hostel world. I was in a dorm room of 6 and needed to climb through clouds to get to my bunk. I hoped and prayed I didn't need to toilet that night.
Next morning, not fancying the make your own waffles breakfast I headed out to Seattle's Best Coffee to see if the claim lived up to its name. Unfortunately I have succumbed to the muffin culture here. I love walking into a cafe and studying the huge array of flavours, and finding the one that just leaps out at you. Of late I've been favouring anything cranberry, preferably with bran, just to maintain that illusion that this muffin might actually be good for me. Seattle's Best Coffee had great muffins, but the coffee was falling short. Regardless it gave me the start I needed to hit the pavement.
First stop was the Pike Street Public Markets - more specifically their Flying Fish. One of the prominent fish mongers has created a very successful gimmick of flinging whole fish from the ice stalls out front, about 3 or 4 meters over the counter to the waiting papered hands of the guys out back to wrap up. The guys usually throw the fish back to the frontman who catches it bare hands - which is kinda impressive, as there's a bit of pep in those throws. The standing gag is then that the guys out back will fire a plush shark back out to the frontman who is 'not ready', and it flies into the crowd who think they've just been struck by 20lb of dead fish. The reactions are quite amusing.
Knowing that the markets didn't really fire up for a few hours, I wandered down to Pioneer Square, an older part of town with original red bricked buildings and an awesome book store that I would so love to convert into a multi-leveled loft open style apartment...Other than that, I didn't find Pioneer Square all that exciting; Seattle's coveted Seahawks home ground was there, but that was about it.
I'd also read that Jimi Hendrix was buried just out of town, but I was being a bit lazy, so just wandered up to Capitol Hill to see the statue I'd heard would be covered in flowers, and offerings of cigarettes shoved in the mouth. However when I go there it was a pristine bronze statue - not quite the edgy homage to Jimi I was hoping for, or expecting.
It was about lunchtime by this stage, so I grabbed something and explored the markets, now in full swing. It was packed. And I kinda kept getting lost between levels - there was no real structure to the place, there were just rooms and stalls everywhere - the levels were not even level. It was kinda up and down, and there were corners in corners but it was fun to get lost for a while. I needed a coffee, and being the birthplace of Starbucks I was determined to buck the system and avoid the chain store all weekend. It was actually easy - I think Seattle's economy is based on coffee. If the flow of caffeine suddenly dried up, Seattle in not a place I would like to be.
Next I caught the monorail up to the Seattle Centre, because it seemed like the thing to do. Its a funny thing - if you looked at it, and closed your eyes, you could really picture life circa 1962 when it was built for the World Trade Fair - it just has that surreal look about it, particularly as it comes through the Experience Music Project building as pictured below - I can't be certain, but I think that architect may have been on acid. I walked back through Belltown, loaded with bars, and couldn't help wonder if they'd been around long enough to have maybe been visited by Kurt Cobain, or any of the other famous Seattle music exports.
For dinner I decided to head to the Pike Brewing Co. as I'd heard their brews were decent and the food wasn't too bad either. I ordered a Kilt Lifter; just cause I liked the name, but it also turned out to be a rather nice drop. My waiter reminded my of Uncle Fester, but had loads of energy, a big deep voice and great sense of humour. He probably felt sorry for me eating alone and so made sure I was well looked after. When I left I had a go at him for not asking me for ID - he looked worried for a microsecond, and then practically laughed at me outta there, he'd already gotten his tip.
Sunday I breakfasted at the Crumpet Shop. It was something different. Then I needed to check out, so grabbed my backpack and headed out. I needed to fill in 6 hours until the bus left, but by then I was tired of wandering alone, and with the added weight of my backpack, I decided to try to get on an earlier bus. I just had to try my luck cause I had no idea when any of the other busses were leaving. Thankfully I was only 45 minutes early for the 1.30pm bus. I called the bus company and OK'd everything and that was that. Crossing back into Canada was a simple half hour process. In fact there was barely time for a bathroom break...It was nice to get back to Vancouver - not to be back in Vancouver, but to know that I was ready to leave it, actually.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Seattle
Grunge Rock, Microsoft and being Sleepless are all synonymous with Seattle. I get to find out tonight. I'm looking forward to sitting on a bus for 4 hours, watching the Washington State scenery dance by to the various tunes randomly selected by my iPod.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Canadian Rockies Images
Athabasca River, Hwy 93.
Athabasca River, Jasper.
Athabasca River, Hwy 93.
That's Mt Robson coming out of my head... and yes, I'm standing on my tipy toes...
Little Big Horned Sheep.
Sunrise, Lake Louise.
Athabasca River, Hwy 93.
Vancouver Island Images
Vancouver Island, despite its constant rain the weekend we were there, certainly had its moments. I was stunned by the clarity of this pristine river that ran through MacMillan Provincial Park. I can't even tell how deep it would be, but you would know exactly where to throw your line if you were so inclined!
Whistler Mountain Inukshuk
Inukshuk are all over Canada, and are usually just a pile of rocks - some look more like people than others. They are used to mark sites of significance, navigate and also serve as a symbol of welcome guiding travellers. Thankfully this one was cemented together to prevent it from falling and mushing me into a fine paste.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Rocky Mountain High (but not in that BC-bud kinda way...)
I'd like to complain about the lack of Bears. And I'd love to whinge about not glimpsing any Cougars whatsoever. Even in Moose Meadows I could not spot the Magnificent Moose, dammit. But when I look back at some of these pics, I kinda just slap myself silly, and wonder what the hell I'm thinking.
The weather could not have been more perfect for the entire week, I mean Look at that Sunshine!! The clear skies did mean that the temperatures dropped - shall we say, significantly - in the evenings. But I am Australian, and as such I maintained appropriate footwear at all times (thongs/flipflops, take your pick) even if I did require socks at one point...Ahem.
OK, lets see. Headed out from Vancouver on Saturday morning in the sporty Mazda 3, grey and slick-ish. The drive up to Penticton was nice, but by the time the entire trip was over had been downgraded to somewhere just above 'ugly'. Penticton lies in the heart of the Okanagan Valley - that's wine growin' country for those at home. Its semi-arid desert, with fairly bare hills and that same yellowish brown hue as the Australians are used to seeing in the backyard everyday.
The wineries are small, and the grapes are brought in from virtually anywhere is North America. Which is obvious when you look around at the vineyards and there's only a handful of vines covering the hillsides. The reds I'm not going to write home about, unfortunately. But there were a handful of whites that were pretty darn good. The thing that struck me continually was not the mosquitoes, but the age of the wines. A 2005 seldom seen, most wines were 2006/07 just because the industry can not keep up with demand. Despite this I too have to admit that my support of the industry will not aid in unlocking the full potential of the regions vintages either...
The drive from Penticton to Revelstoke was getting better. The hills were greening up again, and Coops and I has started playing that little game "Do you think we're in the Rockies yet?" What constituted The Rockies, we weren't sure, but were confident we'd know it when we were. This was not to be the day. Revelstoke was pretty enough - there was a giant statue of Smokey the Bear of note, but otherwise, just a comfortable place to break the drive to Lake Louise.
Or Banff, as it turned out the following day, when we missed the ridiculously well sign-posted turn off. Luckily it was our intention to get to Banff that afternoon and stroll around the town before heading back and catching sunset at Moriane Lake , then sunrise at Lake Louise. Sunrise - now that was cold. And no, I was not Aussie enough, or stupid enough, to wear thongs for that! But well worth the 40minutes of constant shivering to watch the intense rays set the top of the glacier on fire and melt slowly down its face as the sun rose.
Leaving Lake Louise and entering Jasper National Park, it was clear we were really and truly in the Rockies. Even with predominantly bare peaks showing little other than exposed rock on the mountains, the immensity was pretty astounding. The few clouds that were about seemed to trip over the highest peaks as they drifted on by. Big country - I half expected to see cowboys riding through the water, and not the fly-fishermen that dotted the river beds.
About half way between Banff and Jasper lay the Columbia Icefields. Just for something to do we stopped to have a wander on the Athabasca Glacier. It was pretty but not quite as much fun as running amok on the Franz Joseph Glacier of NZ! But the great thing about the glacier is that it feeds the aptly named the Athabasca River that Highway 93 follows all the way to Jasper. It holds the typical glacial green water (so created as the glacier crushes rock into fine powder which then washes out with the run off which then reflects and refracts the sunlight through the water) that is synonymous with the Rockies.
I liked Jasper. It had a country town feel to it, small and personal. Jasper is just that bit further away, and harder to get to for the throngs that flood Banff, and it shows. Sitting in a National Park, you pay for your presence there, a reminder to leave your footprints only. It was rutting season for the Elk, so spotting the massive males around the town was easy - keeping your distance was the trick part - I was pleased one male was happy to just chill as we passed by within about 10m of it sitting in the bushes. I also spotted a couple of Coyotes on a wildlife spotting expedition one night which was pretty cool, once I got over the fact that it wasn't a Cougar, then another one standing on a river bed leaving Jasper a few days later.
It's the tail end of summer now, but there were still plenty of RV's about which made some driving sessions slow. But the drive back to Kamloops was nice, slowly getting ugly again, so I was happy to sit behind the RV caravan. I had no idea what to expect from Kamloops, but it was good the expectations were not high. The B&B was awesome though - backing onto the Thompson River. Coops managed to make swimming sound appealing, until I got in. Shall we say it was....'refreshing'.
I was so disappointed to head back to Vancouver, but one has to earn a living to maintain this tough and demanding lifestyle. It was a great week, long driving, but the kind of experience you don't even want to blink to miss! To all of you yet to tackle to Rockies - please take longer than a week! Its awesome, and I hope one day I can get back in winter to see the postcard views in person!
The weather could not have been more perfect for the entire week, I mean Look at that Sunshine!! The clear skies did mean that the temperatures dropped - shall we say, significantly - in the evenings. But I am Australian, and as such I maintained appropriate footwear at all times (thongs/flipflops, take your pick) even if I did require socks at one point...Ahem.
OK, lets see. Headed out from Vancouver on Saturday morning in the sporty Mazda 3, grey and slick-ish. The drive up to Penticton was nice, but by the time the entire trip was over had been downgraded to somewhere just above 'ugly'. Penticton lies in the heart of the Okanagan Valley - that's wine growin' country for those at home. Its semi-arid desert, with fairly bare hills and that same yellowish brown hue as the Australians are used to seeing in the backyard everyday.
The wineries are small, and the grapes are brought in from virtually anywhere is North America. Which is obvious when you look around at the vineyards and there's only a handful of vines covering the hillsides. The reds I'm not going to write home about, unfortunately. But there were a handful of whites that were pretty darn good. The thing that struck me continually was not the mosquitoes, but the age of the wines. A 2005 seldom seen, most wines were 2006/07 just because the industry can not keep up with demand. Despite this I too have to admit that my support of the industry will not aid in unlocking the full potential of the regions vintages either...
The drive from Penticton to Revelstoke was getting better. The hills were greening up again, and Coops and I has started playing that little game "Do you think we're in the Rockies yet?" What constituted The Rockies, we weren't sure, but were confident we'd know it when we were. This was not to be the day. Revelstoke was pretty enough - there was a giant statue of Smokey the Bear of note, but otherwise, just a comfortable place to break the drive to Lake Louise.
Or Banff, as it turned out the following day, when we missed the ridiculously well sign-posted turn off. Luckily it was our intention to get to Banff that afternoon and stroll around the town before heading back and catching sunset at Moriane Lake , then sunrise at Lake Louise. Sunrise - now that was cold. And no, I was not Aussie enough, or stupid enough, to wear thongs for that! But well worth the 40minutes of constant shivering to watch the intense rays set the top of the glacier on fire and melt slowly down its face as the sun rose.
Leaving Lake Louise and entering Jasper National Park, it was clear we were really and truly in the Rockies. Even with predominantly bare peaks showing little other than exposed rock on the mountains, the immensity was pretty astounding. The few clouds that were about seemed to trip over the highest peaks as they drifted on by. Big country - I half expected to see cowboys riding through the water, and not the fly-fishermen that dotted the river beds.
About half way between Banff and Jasper lay the Columbia Icefields. Just for something to do we stopped to have a wander on the Athabasca Glacier. It was pretty but not quite as much fun as running amok on the Franz Joseph Glacier of NZ! But the great thing about the glacier is that it feeds the aptly named the Athabasca River that Highway 93 follows all the way to Jasper. It holds the typical glacial green water (so created as the glacier crushes rock into fine powder which then washes out with the run off which then reflects and refracts the sunlight through the water) that is synonymous with the Rockies.
I liked Jasper. It had a country town feel to it, small and personal. Jasper is just that bit further away, and harder to get to for the throngs that flood Banff, and it shows. Sitting in a National Park, you pay for your presence there, a reminder to leave your footprints only. It was rutting season for the Elk, so spotting the massive males around the town was easy - keeping your distance was the trick part - I was pleased one male was happy to just chill as we passed by within about 10m of it sitting in the bushes. I also spotted a couple of Coyotes on a wildlife spotting expedition one night which was pretty cool, once I got over the fact that it wasn't a Cougar, then another one standing on a river bed leaving Jasper a few days later.
It's the tail end of summer now, but there were still plenty of RV's about which made some driving sessions slow. But the drive back to Kamloops was nice, slowly getting ugly again, so I was happy to sit behind the RV caravan. I had no idea what to expect from Kamloops, but it was good the expectations were not high. The B&B was awesome though - backing onto the Thompson River. Coops managed to make swimming sound appealing, until I got in. Shall we say it was....'refreshing'.
I was so disappointed to head back to Vancouver, but one has to earn a living to maintain this tough and demanding lifestyle. It was a great week, long driving, but the kind of experience you don't even want to blink to miss! To all of you yet to tackle to Rockies - please take longer than a week! Its awesome, and I hope one day I can get back in winter to see the postcard views in person!
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