“Oh, that’s a long way to go for only a week!” This seems to be the consensus of all who hear that soon I’ll be winging my way to Vancouver for a week’s vacation with my 26-year-old daughter.
My usual response to their dismay is: “After flying 30 to 35 hours to the UK and back three times within 12 months, sitting on a plane for 14 hours to Vancouver is nothing!”
Pffft. Seriously, after those arse-crunching long-haul flights to London via China or Dubai, I’m looking forward to arriving at a new international destination after just fourteen hours.
Side note: I don’t rate Australia as international travel. I mean, yes, I need a passport to get into it, but it’s really just a hotter version of New Zealand; a West Island to our Northu and South Island, you might say; with better beaches and bigger rainforests, and crawly, slithery things that can kill you.
I do, however, wish our Vancouver stay was longer. But a week is all Michayla and I can afford to use of our respective annual leave balances. And we want this week to be a vacation; not a mad scramble to cram as many local sightseeing attractions into each precious day. In fact, the first full day there, we’ve promised each other we’ll do little more than sleep, eat, and maybe, just maybe, explore our immediate neighbourhood – the Alberni District.
The rest of the time we’ll see how many of these we can collect. And maybe cross a suspension bridge nearby. And maybe take a day trip to Whistler.
We’re going at a crazy time of year. February is a perfect time if you want to partake in winter sports; not so perfect if you’d rather explore the city and it’s surrounds on foot, or by boat. At this time of year, Vancouver’s daytime temperatures peak at around 3 to 5 degrees while its nights plunge into minus double-digits. And it rains. A lot, apparently.
We’ve already started discussing what to pack. Coats. boots. umbrellas. woolly jumpers. scarves. gloves. and socks. lots of socks! I think we’re gonna need a bigger bag.
sidalscapes 