Out to the Left Coast

Somewhat on the spur of the moment, I decided to go out and visit Pat in Victoria. After checking with him, I booked my flight on Porter from Hamilton to Vancouver, the Harbour Air from VCR to Victoria. And (of course) my stay at the Best Western. And Pat had some days off over the weekend of July 23-28. So we were set.

My plane was set to go at 7AM, which meant an early rise for me. Breakfast and a new carafe of coffee for Darlene to remember me by, and I was off. It was great to see the sunrise while driving to the airport, and I got there in good time. One of my worries was soon put to rest: I got a disabled spot close to the actual airport entrance, and off I went to get checked in.

The Enbrauer jet that Porter uses has only four seats across, so you either have an aisle or a window seat. I had the aisle, which was fine for me. My row-mate at the window turned out to be a woman going to BC to help her daughter with wedding plans. She was very happy to be going; we had a nice chat. And the flight was smooth and easy.

When we got to Vancouver, they asked me if I needed a wheelchair, and I said I could walk, but thankyou. Fortunately, there was a man with a chair at the exit from the plane. He also asked if I needed help, and I was not stupid. My timing was tight between flights, and as he guided me up and down and through the airport, I was increasingly pleased that I had agreed to take a wheelchair. He spoke with a French accent, so Iasked him where he had come from. Turns out he was from Tunisia, and was happy to speak some French. Bonus, a practice for me as well. And I made it in ltos of time for the shuttle.

The shuttle took a roundabout roue to the South Terminal, but we got there with five minutes to spare. I checked in and asked for assistance; they guave it to me. A young man came and led me by the arm down the steep ramp to the water’s edge, the up the steep stairs into the plane.

Flight over to the Island was a bit rough, but the skies were clear, and the view expectedly dramatic.

When we landed, they again helped me out of the plane (the pilot, by the way, helps as much as anyone) and got me into the terminal. And from there, it was a short walk to the Flying Otter restaurant right on the water’s edge. I stumbled into the restaurant, secured a table in their sheltered patio area, and ordered sweet potato yams and calamari. Yum. They were happy to leave me alone, and I took a lot of time eating before getting a cab to the hotel.

When I got to the hotel, I still had to wait a while until my room was ready. But it was worth it: Room 704 turns out to be on the top floor, complete with an outdoor patio!

The crane there is across the street from Pat’s apartment, and there are also concrete trucks and other construction noise going on through the day. He ois ready to move.

That first night, he had a call-in to manage for work, so we met briefly in the afternoon, then he went back to work and I went for a lie-down. He came back after that, at about 8, with some food (cauliflower and carrots) and some beer. Talked for about an hour, then I kciked him out and went to bed.

Next morning, I was of course up early. The day was bright and cool, but welcome. I read and did my exercises, then headed down to the Ruby restaurant in the hotel for a long breakfast. Pat eventually came over about noon, and we went over to the Board Game Cafe for lunch and some games. Then walked down in the afternoon to Bastion Square, eventually ending up at “the Local” for an outdoor meal in the late afternoon, before walking back to the hotel. Pat had a meet-up planned with workmates, which I did not fancy, so he went off and I ended up going to a movie (Toy Story 5) which he din’t fancy.

Next day, Saturday, after breakfast again at the Ruby, we met up to talk about and look at real estate ads for a possible move. We worked out what he was looking for and a possible timetable as well as possible prices. It was a good discussion, and helped me to calm down about what he was going to do out there. I realize now that, after 17 years (!) in Victoria, he is not coming back east. But he may come for Christmas (hurray).

We tried to go to a fancy restaurant for supper, but they were full (it being Saturday night), sowe ended up at Finn’s on the waterfront, and that was quite acceptable. We were going to both go to a birthday party that evening for Catherine (Chris’ wife) at the Herald Street Pub. I was so pleased to see Chris, this tall, lanky fellow who was able to walk and to use his body in  ways that seemed impossible at the worst of his time with Guillain-Barré. He has some ways to go, but seems to be happy and calm about it all. And to meet Catherine, who is an amazing woman to go through all that with him.also there were Arlo (from the board game cafe and his partner Robin, as well as a few others I didn’t know. Catherine made a point of telling me that Pat meant a lot to them and they valued his friendship. I walked home early from there and was in bed early as usual.

The next morning was to be my brunch with Barry. He made good time from Nanoose Bay, so we met up about 10 at the Ruby, and had a wonderful conversation and meal. He is struggling with Nancy’s declining mental abilities, but is otherwise doing very well, now twenty years on the Island, and twenty years since his diagnosis of Lymphoma, now seemingly gone. It is sad to hear about Nancy, who was bright and energetic, now sitting in a chair and uninterested in doing much else. They are moving to a condo in Parksville which is being built and will be ready in about eighteen months. Barry says it can’t come soon enough. Eighteen months is a long time. 

We ended up spending about four hours together, and I was tired and had to send him on his way and lie down. I felt badly, but he understood. And pat wanted to spend the day by himself, so I ended up with pizza and an early bed again.

The next day, Monday, was lunch with the Finnie’s. Neil came and picked me up at the hotel and we drove back to their place. He is having trouble with Libby, and her word-finding ability. It is beginning to affect her other activities as well, unfortunately. Neil is worried and I think a bit scared about it, but they are happy to now have a grandson who is three months old and spends some time with them as they live close by. We had a good talk and a pleasant time and lunch at the local golf club before they drove me back to the hotel.

The last afternoon with Pat was spent walking to the Market on Yates for the traditional shopping spree, and then having a light supper with finger foods from the Market. Agaiin, a pleasant time with Pat, for a final good-bye. It was a good visit.

My trip back home was also marked by kind people helping me onto the seaplane, from there onto the shuttle, and from there through the airport to my gate. 

One surprise occurred while sitting waiting for my plane to load. There was a row of us oldies waiting for pre-boarding, so I got to talk to them. One of them was a man who seemed pleasant enough. We do as you do and asked where he lived. To my surprise, he was from Dundas. When I asked where in Dundas, he said “Ogilvie Street”: he lives a block from me. I offered hom a ride home, and we will meet soemtime for lunch. His name is John McKillop.

So a good trip. Who knows when I will get back there.