How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


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Rocky Mountaineer: Freight Trains and Mountains

A cute story:

 We passed through a small town called Canoe. A Mrs. Diane Lund lives there in a lemon-colored house along the Rocky Mountaineer route. Each time a train passed, she stood outside on her front step to wave the train on.

 The train people wondered how she knew when the Mountaineer came through because many freight trains also pass through daily. Turns out, her dog Cedar knew and barked its arrival. The lady joined her dog outside her front door. 

~ * ~

We pulled over for a freight train. Minutes tick-tocked. Twenty minutes later (or less), it finally passed on a track I guesstimate around six feet away.

As the attendant handed out Rocky Mountaineer journals, we dared inquire about having to pay for dinner sans voucher the night before. Prepared, the young lady gave us a card with a number to call. I’m sure we paid a lot less (out of pocket) than what the voucher was worth. We’ll see.

Around 9:15 a.m., we passed through Sicamous (means squeezed in between, a First Nation’s word). By 9:30, the bar opened—an hour earlier than the previous morning. What? It’s not Sunday brunch (too early) nor is it Saturday; it’s vacation time! What the heck. I decided on a Caesar.

As we whooshed from Revelstoke to Field, the altitude rose 2500 feet. Trains travel year round here with plows out front, snow at times 40 to 50 feet deep.

Trains pass through a lot of forests and outside of towns. Some time ago, I had considered taking a train across Canada. I no longer believe I will. I hate being closed in and not free to roam. I’m bored. The narratives are too few by our rail car attendant. YouTube or National Geographic can give me a similar experience. I need to walk, touch, feel, and smell. Passing by is not good enough for me anymore.

Finally lunch: Spinach salad with a mustard dressing, cranberries, and julienned apples. Delicious. For the main, I chose pork (it came in two generous pieces) with roasted cauliflower, risotto and a log of squash. I could have licked my plate.

So many Kodak moments—too many to choose. After a while, I became overwhelmed and bug-eyed and their beauty knocked my breath away. How many pictures do I want or need? At times the train travelled too fast. Some of my best efforts produced flashes of unrecognizable digital smears instead of identifiable images of trees etc. Already, I was pictured out. Running from one side of the train to the other, begging ‘excuse me’s’, and avoiding bumping or stepping on other passengers knocked me for a loop.

The scenery changes from dense trees or sparse and thin ones; to charcoal mountains capped in glistening snow; to brown running lakes; to water rushing with ice crystals.

Someone hollered there was a swimming bear but I missed it due to the train’s speed.

Next on September 28 – Rocky Mountaineer: Mindboggling Views

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

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Rocky Mountaineer: On the Rails Again

The alarm on Mary’s cell woke us. After a long and restless night, I peeled myself off the sheets. Thank goodness, I had woken in the night and turned on the air conditioner. The room had cooled to a comfortable temperature. A couple minutes later, around 5:30 a.m., the hotel phone bleeped. We had not requested a wakeup, but I suppose due to the previous night’s blackout, staff did not want us to miss our bus.

We rushed through dressing and were out the door, our bags left for pickup inside our room as we had found them the day before. Complimentary coffee service waiting in the hotel lobby cheered disgruntled bleary-eyed early risers. The time: 6:00 a.m.

Our bus arrived. The tour split into two groups: one to Lake Louise, the other to Banff.

At Rocky the Mountaineer station, our driver backed in, parallel parking next to another bus already there. Within minutes, another bus arrived and did likewise beside us, and another and another. What syncopation. What timing. Such grace like a well-practiced ballet. A radio operator called out drivers one-by-one to line up beside the train. The buses followed one another in a Congo line, pulling up as close as they could to the adjoining railway car assigned to each tour group. The same staff from the previous day greeted our party with cheery smiles and enthusiastic voices as we ascended the steps inside. The atmosphere created was of old friends meeting again.

As promised, our gift voucher purchases from the previous day awaited on each passenger’s seat. My one-size-fits-all black silky sweater pleased me. With tax added, it cost 35 cents more than the voucher allowed. Being less than a dollar, this amount was waived.

The breakfast cart arrived with cranberry and apple juice cocktails. The cranberry juice gave the apple juice a rosé hue; the apple flavour reigned. Parfaits were also available instead. Next came fruit salad and a decadent croissant, jam, and butter. Following this, the chef served a combination of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns with a smattering of corn for colour, and three roasted button mushrooms from his cart. Divine. No toast in sight, but I did not miss it.

After breakfast, an attendant collected money for purchases and any returns.

Due to the blackout at the hotel the night before, the train manager announced each passenger would be gifted a trip journal for the inconvenience. I expected a gratuitous knockoff notebook. Wrong. The padded navy cover might be moleskin. Made in Italy, on the back, there is a large B with Pierre Belvedere’s name. The front shows off Rocky Mountaineer brand insignia and their name. I guesstimate about 240 or so lovely pages.

Quick Facts:

  • Salmon Arm: foodie groups would be interested in the organic farming
  • Modern buildings
  • Have invasive Mountain Pine Beetles
  • Shuswap Lake: looks like letter H from the air
  • Cannot buy cabins/houses here—never go on sale
  • Rent houseboats instead
  • Houseboats have all the amenities, including large screen TVs
  • One Rule: must bring houseboats ashore at night in case a storm blows in
  • Sicamous: Houseboat capital of Canada
  • Sicamous means squeezed in between, a First Nation’s word
  • Houseboats are self-sufficient, the lap of luxury, even Jacuzzis

~ * ~

Why such a fuss over the journal? I l.o.v.e. notebooks. You wouldn’t believe my stash. That’s a whole other post.

~ * ~

Next on September 21 – Rocky Mountaineer: Freights Trains and Mountains

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Rocky Mountaineer: Kamloop Scoops

My first photo clicks at the beginning of our walk about town are the following. Is there anything more Canadian than CBC Radio?

Most cars on the street were parked; pedestrians few. The traffic was slow and the roads not busy, but we did bump into other travellers from our tour group with the same thoughts of exploration until the lights came back on at our end of town. Our dinner vouchers for The Noble Pig Brewhouse next door to our hotel were useless until someone figured out the electricity situation.

I’m not sure why I was surprised at not seeing any jewelry stores. Kamloops appeared chock-full of restaurants, though. One drew our attention like a magnet. A messy line-up of waiting patrons mobbed the entrance and sidewalk in an enthusiastic party atmosphere. We managed to wedge our way inside through the crowd since we had time to kill. The predicted wait time for seating did not appeal but the celebratory atmosphere did. Not especially ready to eat, we fought our way outside again.

We walked and walked peering inside restaurants till my feet complained and moseyed back to our hotel. The Nobel Pig was still dark. Dim emergency lights flickered in the hotel lobby and somehow the registration desk computer worked. Frustrated by the inconvenience, Mary and I decided to hit the sidewalk again with the hope some restaurant with electricity would have room for us two. I needed to sit to rest my aching feet.

What appeared a tiny restaurant with no lineup turned out to be much larger once inside. The menu to our liking, we settled on the Dorian Greek House and almost immediately, a server seated us. I ordered Greek Salad, as had Mary but hers with the addition of Spanakopita. The orders were so generous, we should have ordered one and shared. How my tummy swelled.

Emergency lights only were on at the hotel. I ached for a relaxing foot massage and a good book. A gentleman of 80+ insisted on talking to the tour company to complain about having to pay for dinner. He made a point of making it known he was Doctor so-and-so, yadda-yadda-yadda. He would not be mollified no matter what the staff tried. Cut off from the first call they put through, a staff member redialed for him again and someone brought him a chair.

Too much drama. We headed up the stairs to our semi-dark room at 8:00 p.m. Without thinking, Mary flicked on the bathroom light switch on our way inside and surprise, surprise, we had light. Huh. I tried a lamp and the TV. Our world sank back into darkness again.

Daylight still shone outside but with not enough to read. I’d had it. I changed for bed but tossed and turned for ages. The room temperature had risen, the air heavy and muggy. Mary soon threw in the towel, too. I woke several times due to the humidity. Short of 11:00, a bleep announced power’s return but noting the time I drifted back to sleep. The next time I woke, the bathroom light was on. I scrambled to turn on the air conditioner.

~*~

Next on September 14 – Rocky Mountaineer: On the Rails Again

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Rocky Mountaineer: Kamloops!

I have to tell you, the washroom on this train was huge like a hotel room and seemed to be checked after each use. The end of the paper roll was always folded to a point. Where is this invisible attendant? Only once had I come upon a splattered counter—and well, the floor.

An important note about the windows on the Rocky Mountaineer: some wrap around the roof so you have a 360-degree view of your surroundings. My travel agent advised this is wonderful in pictures and a great idea, but the reality is the happy sun loves heating glass, plus consider the glare you get. Sunglasses anyone? A solid strip of roof cover still gives the benefit of ample views through the extra-large not quite wrap around windows.

Around 6:00 pm, the coach barreled toward our destination: the Thompson Hotel. The air had a strange people scent and tush-numbed seniors quietened as they peered out their windows. Civilization at long last or so it seemed.

We could not back up as around 20 buses idled ahead of us and we were stuck or so our driver told the office over the crackling radio. Change of plans: he inched out around them anyway.

In the meantime, a couple announcements to keep us informed:

  • Dinner would be at the Noble Pig, next door to our hotel
  • We will depart on this same bus in the morning
  • Time of departure to be posted on the lobby bulletin board.
  • Nothing was mentioned about our bags (always a nerve-wracking situation)

Our third-floor, decent-sized warm and stuffy room had a 70s look about it: two double beds, a desk and a 32-inch console TV. When turned on, the air-conditioner rattled a complaining tune, I almost turned it off but the room needed cooling. Always worried about my luggage, it awaited our arrival just inside the door when we burst through the door amazed it had arrived quickly before we had.

Then, the lights went out.

What? What happened?

You have not lived till you’ve floundered down three flights of stairs in near dark (still daylight outside but coal black inside), shuffling down strange halls against strange walls in a strange hotel. If you grab a stair rail, toe guessing your way down three flights of unfamiliar stairs is not too bad, if you don’t fall.

We made it!

In the lobby, many of our tour group milled around the registration desk. The young staff assured all present the situation would be resolved shortly. No reason for the blackout was available even to them. The hotel computer did not work either, but thank goodness it was still light outside though emergency lights did flicker on but weren’t much help.

A tour representative from Rocky Mountaineer arrived to sort out the problem and assure the guests. Mary and I decided to walk off the overeating we had indulged in all day thus far and check out this Kamloops town.

Story Behind Above Sculpture

~ * ~

Next on September 7th – Rocky Mountaineer: Kamloops Scoops

.© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Rocky Mountaineer: Views, News, and Sightings

Miles and miles of big bumps and little ones, trees, dirt and streams of water. We spotted an osprey nest on top of an electrical pole. Colorful red and blue wool were a dead giveaway since eagles are’t such particular decorators; they use sticks and whatever they fine on the forest floor.

Did you know?

  • Eagles have a 6-foot wing span
  • Ospreys have 3-foot wing spans
  • Eagles will eat anything from rodents to puppies
  • Ospreys go after fish only
  • Eagles use dead wood, branches and sticks to build a nest
  • Ospreys use things like colored string, plastic, branches.
  • Ospreys will come back year after year
  • Ospreys, eagles, turkey vultures and bears head into the mountains when the weather heats up

For miles it felt we were the only train on earth and the only living people in the middle of nowhere.

Prior to booking this trip, about two years or less before, Jacqui and I discussed what fun it might be to take a train across the country. I had even checked into the possibilities of travelling from coast to coast in Canada, something she had a hankering for. After seven hours on the train  this day, all we’d seen were hills and valleys, rushing water, and rock faces, not even snow-capped mountains. Yet. I thought our too short Rocky Mountain Adventure would be a rip-off. I’ll be in a better position to judge in a few days whether a coast-to-coast ride is worth it. I’ll keep you posted.

Everyone in our car roared when someone spotted a ram. What a treat—my first sighting. Neither Mary nor I had seen even one whale or any water creature during our cruise in Alaska.

Did You Know?

  • Big Horned Sheep are brown with white rumps
  • Females stick together
  • Males also stick together unless it’s rutting season
  • Females: short spikey horns
  • Males: more circular horns

By 4:30 pm another beverage service was offered, the third one on our first day out. Is this why the Rocky Mountaineer is pricey?

Finally, we’re getting someplace: industrial buildings, a church, cars, and people.

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Greetings from Kamloops! I wondered what lay ahead after such a welcome.

~ * ~

Next on August 31st – Rocky Mountaineer: Kamloops

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Vancouver: Grouse Mountain and a Little Politics

The return walk across the far-reaching rocky bridge was not as intimidating as upon our arrival at Capilano. The skywalk complete, we checked out the (tourist trap) gift shop. I didn’t buy anything. Before we searched for our bus, Mary hankered for an ice cream cone (expensive), though the line was long and the clock was tick-tick-ticking to departure.

Another adventure coming up closer to heaven. Next stop, Grouse Mountain. Unlike the cable car in this video, ours did not allow personal space or movement. Stuck in the middle, I avoided vertigo since I could not look down.

Quick Tips:

  • 15 minutes outside downtown Vancouver
  • Gondola 3700 feet above the city
  • Breathtaking views
  • Grizzly Bear habitat
  • 2008 Mountain Ziplining begins
  • 2010 Olympic Games
  • Learn to snowboard on Grouse Mountain
  • Mount Seymour known for snowshoeing
  • One must be in good shape to ski on Whistler Mountain
  • https://www.grousemountain.com/web-cams/chalet-cam

During our visit May 18th, 2017, the tables and umbrellas were under snow unlike in the webcam link above.

A recent snowfall necessitated a hasty cleanup. Here is Mary, tiny beside the towering snow.

We were off to visit the bears.

A huge, two-story building on the property houses restaurants, shops, gardens with a patio and a fantastic lookout and an observation area:

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The cable car would not leave till every last person on the mountain squeezed into our car. This time I was crammed against a bit of window, wedged in so tight, I did not manage to capture any pictures. Mary was more successful.

Mary grabbed a robe and headed to the North Tower to the pool she had researched. Because the 3rd floor had been roped off to the catwalk due to some big deal Liberal party goings-on, she had to find another entrance.

Taking a change of clothes to the pool hadn’t crossed her mind. She returned across the parking lot in the bathrobe. She soon returned, describing the swarms of security personnel roaming the hotel property

Mary dressed for dinner but not till she tried on all the clothes in her luggage. Maybe she knew something I did not. I was starving after a full day outside and anxious to eat. The doors to the North Tower were locked, warning signs posted saying so, and cordoned off. Security men in suits scrutinized our persons as if we were criminals. Mary inquired how we’d get inside to Café One and our dinner. With a lazy smile and a slow-moving hand, one of the men unlocked the door.

We waited for the door unlocking again after eating. Two security men’s conversation was more important than our escape to our hotel rooms. Soon as the doors opened, hooting and hollering drew our distracted attention: a demonstration on the hotel’s front lawn. Whoopee. Not a huge crowd, maybe a hundred angry citizens, but they made enough noise for hundreds.

Spectators gaped while placard grapplers shouted their displeasure with Prime Minister Trudeau’s. Ahh. The security measures became clear. We heard our PM was in the same building where we’d eaten. The day before Mary and I snooped upstairs of the restaurant. Large conference rooms were setup with refreshment tables. Maybe setting up for this day’s conference? Days later when I checked my laptop for news of the demonstration, I found this video regarding the $750.00 fundraiser the PM attended at our hotel.

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=112844

~ * ~

Next on August 10th – Vancouver: The Rocky Mountaineer

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Vancouver: Amazing Capilano Bridge

In transit again, I had no idea how I’d cope with/on the next new wonder. Heights are not my thing. Ever. I made note of our bus’s license number since many buses were alike. A zillion people swarmed around us as we prepared to follow on what seemed the only path. Holy Moly. Rooted to the spot at what lay ahead, I imitated a statue; Mary hiked forward.

Even as I screwed up my courage to follow, people turned back. I moved in a trance, neither nervous nor shaking. Signs warned against causing the bridge to swing. It moved plenty for me but I managed moving forward. Don’t look down!

Looking down almost unhinged me. Grown men clutching the railing announced to passersby in a quivering voice, “No way my cup of tea.”

A couple yards near the end, a woman clutched the railing, paralyzed with fear. A man unstitched her fingers and in a calm voice told her to look him in the eye. We all behind them, halted while the two inched forward at turtle speed. Once on terra firma, the woman’s relief and deep exhale engaged us all. How would this older woman make her way back on the return pass?

I cannot believe the pictures I took, tons more than I can share.

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Capilano Suspension Bridge Quick Facts

  • Length: 450 feet
  • Height: 230 feet above the river
  • 15 minutes from North Vancouver
  • Built 1889 by George Grant MacKay
  • Originally made of hemp ropes
  • 1903 replaced hemp to wire cable
  • 2004 Treetop Adventures opened (7 foot suspended bridges up to 98 feet up)
  • 2011 Cliff Walk added (300 feet up and 750 feet long)
  • Income from bridge: $23 million per year
  • Grandma Capilano tallest tree in the forest

Carvings at Capilano done by Glenn Greenside. See more images here.

 

After a while, I forgot we were halfway to the clouds and marvelled at the stupendous vision and the work it took to accomplish this fantastic undertaking from dream to reality.

Next on August 3rd – Vancouver: Grouse Mountain and a little Politics

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Vancouver Again: What Now?

As promised, the store stood tall and proud, its windows reflecting a dull sky. I picked up a decent brand familiar to me, which happened to be on sale. A dollar saved is a dollar earned, is it not?

We walked and walked for miles and hours beneath an overcast Vancouver sky. I kept forgetting where we were and had to remind myself this was not Toronto where the buildings seemed dwarfed by the giant ones here. Tired, we trudged past Joe Fortes Restaurant, a landmark seafood restaurant and chop house, and a popular attraction with actors and people in the music business. It is said you never know whom you will bump into. Of course, one must make a reservation. Instead of waiting in line, a patron walks right in. Especially when new ships come into Vancouver Harbour, I heard this is a hopping place.

The hotel at last; I was ready to kick off my shoes and catch a snooze. By six or so, we ventured out to dinner across the courtyard to Café One in the other tower. Why hadn’t anyone suggested we bring sunglasses? I snapped awake from my lethargy at the sight of the foyer’s bright orange walls right and left. A seating area on one side encouraged relaxation and Wifi. On the opposite side, a bar and baby grand invited patrons to enjoy drinks and music but not open for business this early.

Most tables were in front of a wall of windows, which overlooked lush and soothing greenery. A sign suggested waiting to be seated. Were we with such and such tour? Yes. The wait staff person could not find the special and abbreviated menu for some time. Seated at a table for two I noted the crisp and flawless white tablecloths and sighed sinking deeper into my chair. The menu found, I ordered roasted chicken breast, which came with various scrumptious baby beets and sweet snap peas. The baby greens salad was not good. The restaurant mildly busy, service wasn’t bad.. I took our time with coffee and Mary with dessert.

Stuffed, we headed back to our room for a little reading and TV. Nothing interesting on so we prattled on as females will. Mary kept reading, then decided to try out the pool. No robes in the closet, she called the desk and a nice man delivered two robes on hangers within minutes. How is that for service at a large downtown hotel with 746 rooms and suites?

I tried out the high bed and chose the softest pillow. Why do they have so many? Though too many lights on, their distraction soon lost all significance as I melted into dreamland.

Vancouver Quick Facts:

  • Population: 2.4 million
  • A working not residential city
  • Expo 1986 put Vancouver on the map
  • Expected 15 million people; 22 million came
  • Prince Charles and Princess Diana opened Expo
  • Princess Diana fainted after a 3-hour tour of Expo
  • A jump in immigration by 60,000 followed Expo from Hong Kong due to 1997 repatriation to China and the 1989 Tiananmen Square situation
  • Pushed up real estate prices
  • http://thelasource.com/en/2016/05/02/expo-86-the-bubble-that-never-burst/

~ * ~

Next on June 20th – Vancouver: A Bus Tour Anyone?

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Vancouver Again: Now What?

We’re in the South Tower (the other is North) so not sure where east or west is until the sun moves across and down later. We unpacked, checked email—heaven to have working internet again—and contacted home.

The sun broke through the clouds, sending ribbons of welcome heat. Confined on board ship four days with three landing days only, we strolled the neighborhood for the exercise and fresh air. I’m not used to towering buildings and kept forgetting where we were, although I had thoughts we were in Toronto.

I had forgotten my face cream at home. Why do I always forget something important? My poor parched wrinkles scrunched tight, screaming for nourishment. We passed a couple dollar stores. No suitable cream, but I picked up a couple inch-and-a-half diameter tins of nail polish remover pads. (Perfect for travelling.) Just used one a couple days ago—still good.)

I also pounced on an oversize sunglass case. It was a steal; I had to have it. I hate shopping but I don’t mind impromptu roaming through strange stores at times. Considering I had not purchased anything in Alaska except gifts for the family, fridge magnets, and some postcards, this is big spending for me.

While we waited at a red light to cross the street, Mary asked a young girl who had a ring in one nostril—a hippie-type, not a goth—about restaurants close by. She recommended Vera’s, a burger place. “Just up the block. . . better than MacDonald’s,” she said.

A guy next to her asked, “You want MacDonald’s?”

“Heck, no but thank you.”

We ordered at the cash register. The burgers were thick and juicy. The French fry servings were about the size of a handful, the young woman told us. Good thing Mary and I decided to share an order because they were more than we could eat after the filling hamburger. Had they been extra nice since we were visitors from Ontario and no one else was in the restaurant? They had no coffee, only milk, pop, and water. Before hitting the sidewalk, we inquired about a wine/liquor store. The young woman smiled so wide, I worried about her face. “Next door,” she said, pointing.

The store carried VQA bottles, beyond our price range. The first bottle I spotted was only $89.00. Yikes. We did find a couple shelves of reasonable prices. The two guys who unpacked and shelved other bottles stuck up a conversation. When asked if they had down-to-earth labels. I heard them roll their eyes as we hot-footed it out of there. We hit a Shoppers Drug Mart and a grocery store. All I wanted was a sample size jar of something practical for the short term and settled on Ponds Cold Cream.

I have made a short list of items (during this trip) I plan to keep in my suitcase forever: a pair of earrings, face cream, a shawl, nail polish remover tin and a corkscrew. I already have one I borrowed in China.

Following my $1.79 devil-may-care expenditure, Mary asked a passerby with white tape on his nose where the liquor store might be. You won’t believe this.

“Around the corner ahead,” he said. He appeared embarrassed about the tape and explained he lived each day to the fullest because of his upcoming surgery but did not explain what that entailed.

~* ~

Next on June 13th: Vancouver Again. What’s Next?

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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North to Alaska: Last Day and New Horizons

Sunrise had been forecast for 5:00 a.m. but with last minute checking and rechecking everything ended up in our suitcases that belonged, we missed taking pictures.

Vancouver on the Horizon

Neither Mary nor I had checked what time the Lido Market would be open for breakfast, but she suggested we order in. An excellent idea. I had scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, toast, and coffee. Mary’s choices were a fruit plate, cottage cheese, muesli, and coffee. A soft knock on the door announced breakfast’s arrival. What a feast. Food that needed to be hot did not disappoint.

The kitchen staff called, “Did you enjoy your breakfast?”

“Indeed. Excellent. Thank you.”

Later, Mary called to have our trays removed. Unlike hotels, halls on ships are narrower and likely to cause tripping hazards if anything other than luggage is left outside. Once again, someone came lickety-split.

As we waited for expedited disembarkation announcement, Mary could not find her key card, without which she could not leave the ship. She called the Reception Desk and an attendant promised a new one. While she raced to pick it up, I worried how long she may be held up. The fusspot I am, I grit my teeth and worried about missing our proper exit. Finally, she returned and we pushed and pulled our luggage out the door. Only about a dozen people stood around with us, some with carry-ons but no luggage. Within minutes, a solitary uniform pointed forward. We offered our key cards for scanning, and out we zipped. “Keep the card as your souvenir,” said the scanning lady when finished.

It’s as if everyone had already gone ashore or was this a ghost ship? No one ahead and no one behind. We scurried downward, were directed by a silent figure with a smile and a wave to proceed straight down the length of the airport building. No customs and no questions. How strange. Just us two: no crowds or foot traffic. It felt special being an expedited passenger but surreal, and I wondered why anyone exiting the cruise ship, whether to catch their flight, hop a bus or taxi to their hotel, wouldn’t get off like we had. Why go to the trouble of putting your bags outside by midnight and then wait inside the airport to claim them?

Part of our itinerary included a taxi and driver upon our return to Vancouver. No sooner had I inquired about this, three women came forward, one a trainee. Our taxi awaited. The rep handed a voucher to the driver and we sped through Vancouver traffic to the Sheraton. The weather continued overcast; smoke-colored clouds hung heavy and low, more like a dismal fall rather than past mid-May.

Within ten minutes or so, the taxi arrived at Sheraton Wall Centre. Already registered at the hotel as part of the holiday itinerary, our key cards were ready and we headed to the seventeenth floor, sans luggage. The bags arrived before we did. Impressive.

~ * ~

Next on July 6thVancouver Again. Now What?

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles