Trip to Bowen Island - March 13th

So after seeing the beautiful BC mountains from the distance for a week and being kind of lazy, I finally decided to get out of the city and enjoy some of the surrounding wilderness. I considered several places, but someone in the CS group had just mentioned having a great time in Bowen Island and it seemed like a good first objective.

Bowen Island is an island situated in Howe Sound just two kilometers away from the mainland, slightly north of Vancouver. One of the advantages of the island is that it can easily and cheaply be reached by public transport.

I wanted to have an early start, so I woke up at 6am to try to make it to the 8am ferry. The bus took me through downtown as I was reading my book and suddenly I raised my eyes to see that I was in the middle of a forest. Someone let me know that it was Stanley Park, an urban park larger than Central Park, populated by centenary trees.

The ferry to Bowen Island leaves from Horseshoe Bay, a small community in the westernmost part of West Vancouver. When the bus left me in the stop I was already excited about the view.



I made it right on time for the ferry, which was a huge one with several decks, loads of space for cars and a number of amenities on board. I went to the outer part of the ferry immediately, to enjoy the breathtaking view.



The ferry trip was around twenty minutes, and left us in Snug Cove, a small community where the ferry terminal is. Snug Cove is mainly one street, with a few interesting buildings like the beautiful Bowen Island public library, a few shops, cafes and restaurants.



My objective was to get to the top of Mt. Gardner, a 719 meter summit and the highest peak of the island. After buying some food for the day and having a quick look at one of the maps there, I started to walk through the Crippen Regional Park, full of beautiful flat trails surrounding Killarney Lake. An hour later I got to the beginning of the trail towards Mt. Gardner, and it was quite steep since the very beginning.



I passed a few signs pointing to paths that didn't seem to be related to Mt. Gardner, so just continued going up, although already thinking that the signs were going to be messy. As it is usual in me, I forgot one of the most important things for this whole trip in Dublin, my hiking boots. I had barely started walking but my feet were already wet. To make things better, snow started to make a presence, only a few small patches in the beginning, but soon the whole path was snow except for a small part where water came down through thus melting the snow. The snow had no human footprints on it, but it was riddled with wild animal ones.



Soon the path was fully covered by a feet of snow, and after a while it split into two ways of similar width. I started to walk towards the left one but in the end opted for the right one. I kept walking on the snow until I reached a small cabin with an antenna and a dead end. There was still snow everywhere and my feet were getting cold. I had just seen a bit earlier a sign pointing to the so-called "handloggers trail", and not really feeling like going back I decided to follow it. The trail started to go down almost immediately, suggesting it wasn't going to get me anywhere near Mt. Gardner, but I wasn't in a hurry and it was a beautiful path down through the forest, so I kept on going.



After some minutes going downhill and quite unsurprisingly the path took me to back to the main path I had started in. I didn't feel like starting to walk uphill again, so I decided to check out a 'viewpoint' that was signalled from the path and stop there to eat something. It was a bit foggy so I couldn't see as much as I would have wanted, but it was still possible to see the mainland, and the fog coming up from the forest created a great image.



After the small refreshment I walked again the same path until the point where it split, and this time I took the left path. After a 180 degrees turn, the path headed up steeply. It was a long straight section covered by snow which seemed like it would be fun to slide down on the way back.



After some moments of strenuous fight against the snow I made it to the top of that section, to find for the first time a small sign that seemed to imply that I was in the right direction. Unfortunately, this state of the art sign pointed directly to a sparse forest full of snow with a few fallen logs hiding any hint of a path.



I wasn't hoping for further signs anywhere close, so I just decided to go uphill across the forest in the general direction pointed by the sign. Advancing wasn't easy because of the lack of a proper path and because there were a lot of fallen trees getting in the way. A few times I had to retrace my steps, or take detours, but I advanced quite steadily all in all, and after a while made it to a beautiful frozen pond. Right by the pond, an orange square blaze attached to a tree was letting me know that I was back to the trail.







My joy about having found the trail lasted barely five minutes, the time that it took me to lose it again. As I couldn't see the next blaze I started to explore again, trying to go uphill to see if I could at least figure out where the summit was, but there was no proper 'uphill', just small mounds, and the trees didn't let me see much. After half an hour wandering around I decided to go back to the place where I had seen the last orange square, and start again from there. Soon I managed to find the next blaze, which this time was an orange piece of plastic tied to a tree. The path then went really close to the mountain edge and I finally could get a view for the first time since the previous viewpoint.



The path went a bit down and got again into the forest. The depth of the snow kept growing and sometimes managed to obscure some of the blazes, making it hard to follow the path. My feet were starting to freeze so I was about to turn back on a couple of occasions that I lost the trail, but in the last moment I would find it again and decided to keep going.





After a while I came across another Mt. Gardner sign, and I faced the last part of the summit. It was really steep and with a lot of snow, but fortunately someone had thought about me and there were three ropes and chains anchored to the ground. The rope worked out great, but the chains would slide through my soaked gloves and couldn't really be trusted. Anyway I made it to the top, and there were two feet of snow. As soon as I gave ten steps up there with snow above my knee, I felt my feet finally giving in and starting to hurt because of the cold. I had a quick look to verify that I couldn't see anything because of the clouds and, having in mind that I still had at least one hour of snow ahead and thinking of my feet, decided to go back as soon as possible.

The way down was quite uneventful, for the most part I could just follow back my footprints and as soon as I descended a few dozens of meters my feet started to feel better and I knew I would keep my ten toes. When I was halfway down I finally met people, after five hours wandering alone through the forest and the snow. They were a couple and the girl was also wearing trainers with leggings just below the knee. I warned them about the woes of the trail and the infinite coldness up there and kept going down, sliding down on the safe snowed parts. It took me less than one hour to be back to the Killarney Lake.





I kept walking and finally made it back to Snug Cove, which when I first arrived seemed like a bunch of houses and after the hike appeared to me as a big city full of services and niceties like heating, food and washrooms. I went for lunch to Doc Morgan's, a (the?) restaurant in the main street, with a good view of the forests in the background.





Feeling much better with a full stomach, I used my spare time to check out the local library, and I was tempted to stay there for an extra hour, but the fatigue kicked in, and I had to take the ferry back, feeling completely satisfied with the day and eager to reach my place to get rid of all the wet clothes I was wearing.



You can also see all the pictures.

First week in Vancouver - March 5th-12th

After the first two days in Seattle I headed North to Vancouver. At the beginning we had the chance to see the Northern neighborhoods of Seattle by the ocean and then a beautiful view of the Cascades on the East most of the time until the Canadian border.



Crossing the border only took a few questions and soon enough I was finally in Vancouver :D It didn't take me much to find my way to Granville station and after a short commute in the driverless Skytrain I finally arrived at my new, beautiful home.



My roommates weren't home, but I was welcomed by two couchsurfers who were staying with us for a few days. Soon the roommates arrived though, and with them dinner and craziness ensued. A few friends of them came over so we were a good bunch. We played some board games and drank some mezcal and talked and had some Moscow mules and laughed and had some screwdrivers. Great first night in Vancouver :)

The house is wonderful. The living room is huge and is beautifully decorated and loads of sofas and different lights. The shower is amazing too, with countless shower heads with different shapes and grades of awesomeness. More importantly, the house comes equipped with two lovely cats who, for some reason, seem to like my room, which by the way is also great. In addition, the house is located just two blocks away from Commercial Drive in East Vancouver, a really multi-cultural and diverse area :)



Next morning I walked around the area a bit, and couldn't help stopping every once in a while to look at the amazing mountains right North of the city.



Some more nice pictures of my neighborhood:




Other highlights of the week include having dinner in an all-you-can-eat sushi and Korean BBQ buffet, a few other crazy nights at home, visiting Queen Elizabeth Park, meeting a friend I hosted back in Dublin and a couple of meetings with couchsurfers. Much to my surprise in the big weekly meeting around 80% or more of the people were Europeans. I was naive enough to think that I'd at last meet locals at a CS meeting :D

You can also have a look at all my pictures of the first week.

Seattle - March 4th

It took me a second to realize where I was. 'Seattle. Beginning of a three-month adventure. This rocks'. I had just woken up, but I was already happy.

As usual, I didn't bring shampoo with me, so I had to go out to buy it for my morning shower. 'Where can I get shampoo?'. The guy at the hostel desk smiles: 'Just here, for free, people keep forgetting it in the showers'. I grin, proud to be a big contributor to these free shampoo reserves wherever I go, and happy to get something back from them for once.

Ready to go, Starbucks down the road. Not much of a fan, but well, it's Seattle, Starbucks city. After I order, the girl behind the bar smiles and asks how is my morning. 'Great, first one in Seattle actually'. 'Oh, welcome, make sure you check Pike market right there'. 'Yeah, that was the plan, thanks!' 'Ok, have a great day and enjoy your coffee'. It's my fourth time in the US, but every time I come I am gladly surprised by the incredibly good service pretty much everywhere. Some people might argue that it's fake, but, even if that were the case, they are so good at faking it that it feels real, which is what matters when I go for my morning coffee. I would say Spain is definitely the country with the worst service among all the ones I have been to, and I can tell you that's for sure not fake :P

Coffee in hand, I head towards Pike Place Market, just across the street. Most stands are still closed, but it already looks great. First shop, a left-wing/anarchist bookshop, closed for anti-earthquakes reforms, asking the patrons to buy gift cheques so the shop can survive until it reopens.

In the main part of the market, three vibrant floors of stands with flowers, fruits, vegetables, fish, meat, all kind of food, movies, comics, music, a magic shop and giant shoes, among others.

Everything you can imagine is on sale in beautiful looking stands and shops, and, more importantly, the attendants seem to love what they are doing and look warmly at their goods. Sometimes you can get a peek at the bay through the windows of one of the cafes.

After going down to check the waterfront, I have scrambled eggs with veggies and cheese for breakfast in one of these cafes.

Then, I quickly visit the first Starbucks coffee shop ever, part of the market and opened in 1971, and then go to have a look at the Metsker Maps shop. I dig maps so I spend half an hour there, browsing old maps and guides of the places I am planning to visit. I love the shop, so decide to buy something just for the sake of it. After a while I decide to get a Banff, Jasper and Glacier National Parks guide and to spend a week there (in the parks, not in the shop).

I had heard about this 'underground tour' somewhere, so I decide to check it out, without really knowing what kind of 'underground' we are talking about. The tour starts at Doc Maynard's public house. Our guide is Rick, a retired Alaskan-born Seattleite, who has been doing this tour for 16 years and loves the city. He starts from the beginning, how Seattle was founded, their problems with the sewers and how toilets flushing in the wrong direction didn't help business. Then he takes us literally underground, into the old Seattle that stands below the streets and sidewalks nowadays, and there explains to us how Seattle was built by men and women of dubious reputation, how a tax on prostitution amounted for almost all the budget of the city for years and how they partied underground for decades. The tour is based in the history of Seattle as told in Sons of the profits by Bill Speidel and it's definitely worth the money.

Rick mentioned that the Elliott Bay Book Company, just two blocks down the road, had been chosen as one of America's top 10 bookshops, so I go there and have a look. It is a brilliant place, all wood except for some brick walls and totally packed with books. After a quick look around I go to the travel loft, browse a few books there and end up buying John Steinbeck's Travels with Charlie: In search of America. Although it's a bit outdated, as Steinbeck's road trip took place in the 60s, I hope it might help me decide where to spend the last month of the trip. The bookshop also has a beautiful cafe which makes use of the underground level we had just learned about in the tour.

After this I have to walk by Pike Place Market again. By now the weather is great and the market is buzzing with activity. A lot of people, including musicians and other artists, hang around the streets and the green areas near the waterfront and I know that I would love to live in Seattle, less than a day after arriving to the city.

I just keep walking towards the Space Needle, to at least take a close picture of this far cousin of the Dublin Spire. I finally take the bus to go to my hosts' place, who live in a beautiful suburban area called Magnolia, quite Wisteria Lane-like.

Bill and Ix-Chel, my hosts, are also hosting Ignacio, a guy from Bilbao who has been traveling around for over three years, including more than a year in Africa, using HelpX to improve his travel experiences.

After talking for a while, Bill proposes to play Guitar Hero. It is my first time. After a few tries I start to not suck too much :P

All my Seattle pictures so far.

Setting off - March 3rd

This is the first entry of this blog, and, as anyone who knows me is well aware of, I am not good at continuity, so it might as well be the last :P The plan is Seattle for two days, Vancouver and surroundings for a month, then Whitehorse, then Juneau, then Toronto, then somewhere else I don't know yet. Here it begins.

I woke up at 4am and walked through the empty Dublin streets. Not even drunks were out there this time. For the first time ever I wasn't really excited about a trip like this, mainly because I was having a great time in Dublin, there was no real need to leave and I was going to miss my friends.

As always, a taxi intercepted me on my way to the Aircoach. I shared the cab with two strangers, both Irish and talking with the driver about how the country was going down the drain. That was more than 24 hours ago, and now it seems like another life altogether, as it does the games I was playing last night with my Dublin friends.

After a too long layover in Heathrow, I finally head West towards Calgary. Opposite to 99% of the population, I love long flights: movies (Mystic River), documentaries (how to survive in the Arctic) and music (my playlist was David Bowie, Marvin Gaye and Roy Orbison, as all the modern stuff was crap), gluten-free food and drinks given to me at regular intervals and time to relax ... bliss. This time, much to my surprise and delight, the route was not the usual one through the Atlantic but a more northern one crossing Greenland and the north of Canada. The views from the plane are amazing, with Greenland's beautiful snowed mountains and coasts and the frozen Arctic landscapes. Like this, but with more snow. To top it up, a great view of the Rocky mountains in the horizon while landing in Calgary.

Then it's time to pass Canadian and US immigration. As it has always been the case for me, it takes a minute and I feel really welcomed, more than in any other country I have traveled to, and I suddenly become very excited about being there, about the whole trip and really eager to arrive to Seattle and dig the city.

This is my fifth transatlantic flight and I yet have to suffer jetlag for the first time. My 'trick' is as simple as sleeping in the plane the appropriate number of hours to compensate for the difference in hours of the day. It has always worked. Both ways. Today I slept 4 hours in Dublin and 5 extra ones in the planes, which for me is enough for the 32-hour day I had.

So when we were approaching Seattle and I could see the city lights, I just felt like going out. I decided to check out this jazz place called New Orleans Creole restaurant, just 10 minutes from the hostel I'm staying in.

It has turned out to be even better than I expected. Great jazz music, right one meter away from you, while you enjoy a cheap and yummy dinner and an enthusiastic crowd. Also just 3 euros for a pint of cider including tip ;) An old man, really passionate about jazz, approaches me to see if I am going to be in the city on Sunday, because "there is this jazz concert in a church close to here, but don't worry, it's not a religious thing". I guess either he saw I was European and assumed all of us are heathens, or I wear my dislike for religion in my face ...

Still don't have plans for tomorrow, besides meeting my CS host at some point during the day.