I am not really a well-travelled person. True, I’ve driven for miles and flown and taken trains, but really, not very far. The furthest south I’ve flown is Florida. The furthest south I’ve driven from Ontario is Virginia. I’ve not been further east than Halifax and, until now, the furthest west I’ve been was 17 miles east of the South Dakota-Wyoming border.
Yes, until now.
Yesterday, I arrived in my fifth ever time zone and saw my second ocean. I’ve crossed Canada’s third largest city off my list. Thanks to the CBC bringing Erin in to interview her about Plain Kate at a weekend province-wide radio show (taped before a live audience), I got to tag along after buying my own plane ticket.
Our flight out here was uneventful (though from London via Toronto, due to a miscommunication), and the trip in from the airport was a breeze (thanks Canada Line). Yesterday afternoon, we left our hotel to walk down to the Burrard Inlet where we watched the seaplanes take off against the background of the mountains north of Vancouver.
Vancouver truly is one of the great cities in the world. There’s nothing else like it in terms of size and scope, at least not here in Canada. We had prawn and proscuito tacos from a street vendor, and then friends of a friend took us out to authentic Chinese food (not in Vancouver’s Chinatown, which apparently is highly recommended for its architecture and history but not for its food, which has gone all touristy).
This is my first real experience with jet lag. It was odd eating dinner when our internal clocks were telling us it was 9 p.m. As I type this, it’s 7 a.m. here, though my body says its 10. Well, at least the jet lag is working in our favour, for now. Let’s hope it doesn’t nail us come Tuesday morning.
My parents are looking after the kids. All seems well, though it’s a bit of a stressful time for Vivian (and, I’m sure, everything else). Erin and I have been away from the kids overnight before, but not together at the same time. But I’m glad we’ve taken this opportunity, and I look forward to touching my toe into the Pacific.