Our last morning in the train was a nice mix between mountains and farms. At some point, we were stopped a long time, and they told us the train hit a poor Bambi and they would take it to the vet.
Also, a lot of this… And I have so many questions about that!
We went under a bridge which was the longest cable suspension something something. Quite impressive.
Port Mann Bridge, as it’s usually called.
We arrived at Vancouver with a 3 hours delay, which, on 4466km, is not so bad. I had planned an outing in Vancouver, but what with 3 hours less, and the White Owl still a bit green on the sides, we chose to wait in the station and go directly to Victoria.
So we waited, and it was difficult not to fall asleep. Also, we had our hats on. I realize I didn’t tell to you about the hats!
My Venerable Ancestor has a passion for hats. It’s great, everybody should have a passion and embrace it, even if it means they sometimes look unconventional in the streets. The week before going, she had mostly talked about whether she should buy this hat or that hat for the trip, and that she would only wear one if I did. I thought a hat was a good idea, so I bought a sturdy Indiana Jones/cowboy/adventurer sun hat in which I looked both cool and ridiculous (mostly ridiculous), while the White Owl, after hours of deliberation, bought a classy, round, white straw hat.
Note the artistic interpretation of “Very classy hat”
Turned out that on hats, like on museums and many other things, we were of radically different opinions.
Me:
My hat is a ridiculous sun hat to wear outside, to protect my big head of the harsh rays of the sun while walking around in a place where nobody knows me, and hopefully nobody will point at my hat and laugh. It’s a sturdy hat, I can roll it tight, sit on it, and use it to pour water on my horse while on a cowboy adventure.
WO:
My hat is a beautiful classy hat that I only want to wear with my classy dress in a classy setting and that I brought because we are going to an afternoon tea at the Fairmont Empress and I love hats. Also, a breeze will destroy this hat, I must guard its integrity with my life. And, because I love hats, I think the Blue Owl is shamefully mistreating hers.
From this divergence of feelings, complications naturally ensued. Basically, the White Owl would treat the hats as if they were very expensive, most fragile eggs, and I would treat them as if they were… well, fashion accessories. Although, when I saw how important they were for the White Owl, and how unhappy she would be when they were mishandled, I soon tried to treat them with more respect. That’s why I suggested that we wear them while travelling so that they wouldn’t be cruelly crushed in the baggage hold.
So much blue… Get ready for more!!
We took the ferry to Victoria (still with our hats on, even though it was dangerous with the wind), and it was beautiful all around. It felt so amazing to feel the sun, the wind, the sea breeze on our face, especially after being so long in a train.
Sooooo much blue!!!
Teenage gulls were swooping down around us to check the deck for something to eat and steal people’s sandwiches, the sky was aggressively blue, the mountain close to Vancouver was white and misty, the White Owl was wearing a hat, everybody was happy.
Except maybe the people who got their sandwich stolen…
The beautiful hotel in Victoria was very luxurious and very agreeable. I soaked in the bathtub for a long time, then we ordered room service while in stupendous bathrobes. Happiness indeed.
It was the first of July, Canada Day, but we were too tired and too comfortable to go out again. We didn’t even need to!! We could see the fireworks from our window!
Luxury indeed.