How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


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Rocky Mountaineer: Gluttony and Scenery

It took a long while before we left Vancouver far behind.

Vancouver Quick Tips

  • 2012 Port Mann Bridge opened (crosses Fraser River)
  • 5 lanes each way
  • World’s widest span bridge
  • Trans-Canada Highway had only 2 lanes
  • Cost $2.5 billion
  • Tolls $3.15/car
  • 120 million trips to pay for bridge
  • Tolls removed 2017
  • Structural issues weekend opened (severe cold, ice and snow)
  • Not prepared for this
  • Original bridge opened 1964

Outlets were available between seats to recharge devices but no internet onboard in the remote territory we traveled. Jen, our attendant, assured us she would let everyone know when we approached a town or a Wi-Fi tower.

The passengers in high spirits (pun intended), the train moved too fast for the photo opportunities as the train devours miles of tracks out of Vancouver. A few tourists snapped away to capture every frame outside anyway.

I could not believe the generous portions the attendant poured from the bar cart, which precluded and followed lunch. One glass would do me all day.

Like on an airplane, it seemed one diversion or another was scheduled to keep the travelers happy. The trip included a $50.00 merchandise voucher, disguised as a freebie, for which we’d obviously paid. Still, when I was handed a catalogue, I managed to fancy a stylish black acrylic sweater which could be worn two ways for different effects. Skeptical about the one-size-fits-all description, I ordered it anyway with the promise our orders would be processed overnight and the merchandise would be waiting on our seats the next morning to try on and decide whether to keep or not.

What’s not to love about being spoiled? We had been busy every minute so far: a light snack, breakfast, bar service, free merchandise and already lunchtime. What a luxury: warm hand towels were handed before the food arrived.

I forgot to take pictures of lunch. (Too busy. Really?) Menu choices were salmon or short ribs in Merlot sauce, and Roma tomato salad. If a first choice ran out, they guaranteed the second one. What? How does that work? This promise left me scratching my head. I suppose it meant the grocery order arrived short of one or the other.

By 1:35, the lunch cart crept along to three seats away. The ribs were boneless and much to my delight, delicious; the potatoes puréed and shaped into a square log with carrots and turnips. Though I choose to skip gravy, this one was over the top. Holidays mean no calories, right?

While salads arrived, one lady dropped her bun. Oopsie. A moment later, she dropped her dish, which did not break but bounced on the carpeted floor. Hmm.

Strange how one side of the tracks the mountains are green, whereas the other is arid and populated by sparse scrub plants. A lake or river—any water—was a relief to the eyes.

Goldie Oldie music played all day in the background: Ring of Fire, Sweet Caroline, Running Bear, Piano Man, Mack the Knife, Rocky Mountain High and many, many more.

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Next on August 24th – Rocky Mountaineer: Views, News, and Sightings

© 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

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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: Bus Tour Anyone?

Mary and I waited in the hotel lobby for our tour bus after a leisurely buffet-style breakfast. Groups of strangers were gathered in bunches, but we had no idea if they were coming along. Soon as the driver breezed into the lobby and announced his objective, Mary and I hustled out for choice seats and every seat on the bus filled.

the bus drifted into traffic and onto the Lions Gate Bridge on the way to our first stop: the fish hatchery.

Jeff, an indigenous Indian, was a slight fellow with a single peppered braid down his back. He strapped on a mike and not only acted as our driver but as our guide, as well. He directed our attention right and left—hands raising and dropping, at least one hand on the wheel at all times—as he explained noteworthy highlights of Vancouver. Though obvious this wasn’t his first time as a multi-tasker, I was charmed and did fangirl over him. You’re never too old, right?

Points of interest he introduced:

As engaging and entertaining our guide, Jeff, turned out, he was also serious, pleased and proud when he said, “British Columbia has 240 recycle systems for everything.”

He bemoaned humans. “For 125 years, indigenous people have been trying to explain you don’t need to knock everything down. Man is the only one left on earth who destroys and knows how to heal and fix things.”

Capilano Facility Quick Facts:

  • Capilano River tampered with since 1880
  • River abundant: Steelhead trout, pink salmon; sockeye; Chinook, and Coho
  • 1954 chosen by water commissioner to build a dam 300 feet high (no fish ladder)
  • 1954 dam built to supply 40% of Vancouver drinking water
  • Blocked migrating fish; killed as they jumped over the dam
  • Salmon dying in 1956-57
  • 1969 idea to build a hatchery
  • Salmon start as eggs
  • 1972 hatchery to extract eggs from females
  • Man only one left on earth who destroys and know how to fix

Salmon Quick Facts:

  • Can jump 70 feet high trying to get to a spawning ground
  • With salmon, need to know when they will come down
  • They have a mind of their own: just want to get home
  • Largest salmon 60 to 160 pounds (Chinook)
  • Farmed fish different meat than from ocean
  • When buying, ask for wild
  • What do they feed farmed salmon to make them grow so fast?
  • Female carries 4 to 7,000 eggs
  • Eggs extracted into a container, fertilized with male sperm, incubated and released into incubator room at the hatchery

An additional overview of the hatchery:

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Next on July 27 – Vancouver: Amazing Capilano Bridge

© 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/

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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.

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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.

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Next on July 6thVancouver Again. Now What?

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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North to Alaska: Art Auction Confusion

I woke at 6:45, anxious to start our day. A dry deck faced us; the ship rocked beneath our feet.

After breakfast, I intended to get the rigmarole of going ashore the next day out of the way. I sorted through the forms and luggage tags. We had a couple options: independent or expedited and chose the latter as we fit all the criteria, the times fit better, and I’d rather pull our own luggage off the ship than leave it outside the door before midnight and have to wait to collect it upon arrival in Vancouver. Mary stopped by the front desk to collect printouts of our accounts. I spent more than I’d anticipated. How easy it is to spend money when all you have is a credit card. I should have disregarded an internet connection as a necessity, considering we had so much downtime.

Mary signed us up to attend an art auction. Not up my alley but the promise of a glass of champagne was a good incentive. Upon registration, a nice woman handed everyone a number and three stickers, which we were to affix to paintings we favoured.

When the fellow responsible to display the next painting for auction, he snapped off the stickers and mashed them. I saw no point in the stickers unless the ones with the most were brought out first or was the exercise to engage would-be buyers?

The champagne must have been a special purchase. Only one glass per customer. My mouth puckered with the first sip, but I managed to work at it until the glass was empty. Swirling the glass gave me something to do while I slid lower in my chair, bored. The auction did not heat up; a few painting sold, but the bidding was low and unexciting.

Tummies rumbling, we scouted out to lunch. Upon our return, lo and behold, the auction still rambled on. Mary did not win anything though she purchased a wad of draw tickets. At the end, as loyal attendees, another woman handed out white 10 by 13-inch envelopes. Mary opened hers right away. She disliked the print of a moose and daring as ever, she asked for an exchange. She made a face at the print of single cottage in a field of wildflowers in her hand and hinted at trading with me, but I liked mine. I decided to love my modern print or would someday and planned to buy a fabulous frame it might deserve. Teasing aside, I did—I DO—like it.

Duet Night (print) by Charles Lee

The rest of the day we wandered the ship, saying goodbye to new friends. For the third and last time, we enjoyed dinner at the Rotterdam with plans to enjoy Elliot Finkel, a piano entertainer in the theatre. The members of the audience loved the fabulous and popular Disney show tunes he played, but the show lasted only 45 minutes. Two guitarists, a drummer, and a female keyboard player accompanied him.

The show over, we had plenty of time to catch the sunset. Announcements earlier mentioned 9:29 and then 9:15 pm as sundown. Thank goodness, we were early, yet we still missed it. The sun slid into the ocean in the split second I blinked. What a disappointment. A fellow passenger caught it and said, “The sun slipped behind the mountains and into the ocean like it had been in a hurry to go to bed.”

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Next on June 29th – North to Alaska: Last Day and New Horizons

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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North to Alaska: Creek Street Shops and a Tram Experience

As we left Dolly’s house by the back stairs, Mary noticed the guide from the tour we latched on to in Juneau. We scrambled to join the group, wondering how much we’d missed. As we joined the people clustered around the guide, Mary talked to a woman in an unobtrusive jacket with an emblem on the breast. She tsked the tour did not belong to the cruise but was an independent. We mentioned there had been no problem in Juneau. “We’re almost finished so I guess you can stay.”

She led us down a path to the shops on Creek Street and the tour was over. At least the drizzle had stopped.

I laughed at the many advertisements for the shops. Mary wanted to take the tram ($2.00 USD) up a high hill for a fantastic view of the town. Whoever had given her information about it said the entrance was up the hill. Which hill? “Are you sure she meant this hill.” I hated wasting my time. On and on we trudged. No tram entrance. The hill levelled out; we accosted a couple coming toward us, who did not give specific directions but pointed down the hill. We stopped at one of the shops, then asked another passerby. Back to the tourist-filled sidewalk, we meandered through the same shops for the third time.

“There it is.” Mary had the look of someone who knew where she was going all along. A family of five joined us. Maybe because the Cape Fox Hill Tram happened to be red, I immediately thought of Dr. Who and his telephone booth. The buttons for operation are the same as you find in an elevator. The over 200-foot incline took about minute before we stopped more than 100 feet above the harbour.

We had no idea what we’d find at the top. Straight ahead double doors enticed us into a lobby, which appeared to be a hotel. Fantastic seating with deep sofas and chairs faced a working gas fireplace and a switched on flat screen. Out the back door were gardens and more totem poles. On the other side of the lobby, magnetic food smells and brewing coffee drew us in. The best seats by the windows overlooking Ketchikan were taken, but though almost noon, the restaurant was not busy. I felt invisible as no server approached our table until Mary lassoed a waitress for the Wi-Fi password. I only wanted a simple coffee. Not Mary, who perused the menu; muffins took her fancy. When a waiter finally stopped by, he said they had none.

“But they’re on the menu. What kind do you have?”

“I’ll check.” He disappeared. We waited and waited. We waited some more and grabbed a waitress, asking after our server. Mary’s blueberry muffin finally arrived. It wasn’t oven-warm so we decided it hadn’t just been baked because service had taken so long and we’d been told they had none.

We caught up on email, ate, drank and left money for the food and left. Who has all day to wait for service?

Traipsing back to Creek Street and the many quaint shops, I no longer found them appealing and voted for a return to the ship for a proper, if late, lunch.

The day finished with an enjoyable viewing of LaLa Land in the ship’s theatre. Prior to seeing the movie, I’d heard there were opposing camps regarding this production: those who love it and those who do not. I loved it. Popcorn arrived late once again, during the latter part of the movie and we were drawn to pinch a bag each on the way to our room. One last look outside confirmed we had missed the sunset again. The skyline appeared bruised in shades of purple, pink, orange, and yellow.

Night, night.

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If you’ve never tried it, here’s a chance to see what a tram is like.

Next on June 22nd – North to Alaska: Art Auction Confusion

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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North to Alaska: Dolly Who? Dolly What?

On we trudged; a sign advertising many varieties of popcorn caught Mary’s attention. Mm. It smelled so good inside that shop. I cannot recall all the flavours on offer, but they were many and not cheap. Seasonings were available to mix anyway a customer chose. I’m glad I didn’t need to make a selection. I love popcorn but too many choices of anything give me a headache.

We next chose an open-type shop, the three-walled kind like in an open bazaar, and lickety-split an attractive, fast-talking sales clerk started his spiel. He snared Mary into buying two 8-ounce vac pacs of smoked salmon at $16.99 each USD by throwing in a free 4-ounce vac in the bargain. I guess she wanted to be caught because she had her mind set on salmon from Alaska. This purchase required special packaging and an officious label since we were in a country not our own and food items require special permission to be transported across the border. Oh, the rules of travel.

I am no good without a plan or a map, but we ambled from the main road for a couple blocks to see what we might find.

An advertisement on the ship’s TV had advertised points of interests and there it was. Sheer luck we’d found it so easily. A young woman in period costume outside the little white house convinced us to check it out for ten bucks each. I love a mystery, don’t you? What would we find for such a bargain ticket?

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Teeny rooms jam-packed with period furniture and paraphernalia was worth the escape out the annoying and persistent gauzy drizzle. A flat screen TV graced a wall in every room, running looped film about Dolly, her life, and possessions. Peeling paint and wallpaper and watermarked ceilings framed the crowded artifacts of the day. Dolly (real name Thelma Copeland, born 1888) had purchased the house in 1919 for $800.00 and paid it off in two weeks. She did not allow married men and told them, “No, you’re married.”

She checked hands for rings and again said, “Nope, you’re married.” How did she know? Removed rings and mud on shoes or boots confirmed they had come down the hill, the back way. Those who carried their shoes (and put them on before knocking) to avoid mud, passed inspection.

Married men’s trail to Creek Street. Wood stairs and railings save tourists from mud on their shoes and from slipping and sliding away.

In the ‘20s and ‘30s, prostitution was not illegal. Booze was but nobody paid attention. Dolly received deliveries at night by lowering a bucket and hid the boat supplies underneath the house beneath the nose of the preacher next door.

Downstairs:

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Upstairs:

A couple with two young children zipped past us up the stairs, barely stopping to blink, and were out the door as if house hunting but not impressed with the recommended property.

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The tour of Dolly’s house ended at the back door on an up-do-date wooden deck and walkway back to Creek Street.

Next on June 15th – North to Alaska: Creek Street Shops and a Tram Experience

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles