My friend had invited me to guest author a post on her travel blog, about why I travel and my favorite places. After a few days of consideration I decided on a few pretty places in Ireland, and realized that my visit there was almost exactly a decade ago.
Perhaps it was the ambiance of St Patrick's Day here in Vancouver. Although a watered-down imitation of the traditional honest craic in the small-town pubs that speaks of toil and tears and hope, it was still nice to hear the familiar tunes on exotic instruments - the Uillean pipes. Most of the repertoire performed by several bands that weekend I've had on CDs at home for a decade, so my mind knows the melody as deeply ingrained as if I could pipe it myself.
Perhaps it was my imminent birthday at the end of the month, reminding me that another year has passed, and I should take stock of what I have done and what is still left to do, both as milestone accomplishments and whimsical wishes. Not that I have aging anxiety or envy of my peers, but I feel recognition and annual reassessment is important. You reap what you sow.
Perhaps it's something in the stars, that the sun enters my zodiac sign Aries. A tarot reading suggests that change is lurking in the periphery, and that _thinking_ about it will only get me so far, change will manifest only with my actions. A few other cards highlighted inspiration, creativity and light renewing amidst darkness and dormancy.
So in the past week I've tried to touch base with as many of my seldom-visited friends as I can, I've started reading a new book and enjoying it so far, I've helped friends with their garden and preparing for work to do in the strata-bound property I live. Small actions - or are they simply distracting activities?
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
Vancouver International Wine Festival 2014
An event I look forward to every year, for more details check out the post last year at this time.
This year was a little more tricky than previous years, as our organizer/sommelier eagerly pushes the envelope for us to be a 'world-class wine event'; the focus was France, and some of the winemakers were especially particular about the presentation of their wines in lectures, and often disagreeing with the sommeliers who we take our orders from. When they say pour, we pour. One princess even made an offhand remark over the mic to a full audience that the wine should have been served cooler if we were more organized... I missed this as I was focused on the task at hand, but it bothered my superiors and that bothers me, since they take especially good care of us without fail. I'll withhold naming and shaming here as he doesn't deserve promotion on my blog, and if he wasn't such a famous and sought-after winemaker I'd say just not to invite him back! No one needs a prima donna to rock the boat.
On one event we had all hands on deck for pouring 12 sparkling wines while the audience was seated - not only can we not call to our teammates while the speaker was speaking, but we were stepping in narrow aisles around people and coats and bags and everyone would notice if we spilled! Of course that sets a precedent that we can pour wines well-chilled, and we did that for at least one on every event I poured. Our team is awesome and rose to the challenge shining. Hopefully next year's host country can be a little more gracious of the little people that go into executing a festival.
My personal focus this year in the tasting room was on the Sancerre and Pouilly-Fume from the Loire valley, some exploration of Alsace, and some west coast American wines from Oregon and Washington state, which for me are as a far-off country as any other.
This year was a little more tricky than previous years, as our organizer/sommelier eagerly pushes the envelope for us to be a 'world-class wine event'; the focus was France, and some of the winemakers were especially particular about the presentation of their wines in lectures, and often disagreeing with the sommeliers who we take our orders from. When they say pour, we pour. One princess even made an offhand remark over the mic to a full audience that the wine should have been served cooler if we were more organized... I missed this as I was focused on the task at hand, but it bothered my superiors and that bothers me, since they take especially good care of us without fail. I'll withhold naming and shaming here as he doesn't deserve promotion on my blog, and if he wasn't such a famous and sought-after winemaker I'd say just not to invite him back! No one needs a prima donna to rock the boat.
On one event we had all hands on deck for pouring 12 sparkling wines while the audience was seated - not only can we not call to our teammates while the speaker was speaking, but we were stepping in narrow aisles around people and coats and bags and everyone would notice if we spilled! Of course that sets a precedent that we can pour wines well-chilled, and we did that for at least one on every event I poured. Our team is awesome and rose to the challenge shining. Hopefully next year's host country can be a little more gracious of the little people that go into executing a festival.
My personal focus this year in the tasting room was on the Sancerre and Pouilly-Fume from the Loire valley, some exploration of Alsace, and some west coast American wines from Oregon and Washington state, which for me are as a far-off country as any other.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Fun in February
Aside from the trek to Mexico in my last post, I have no great travel plans for this year, despite an itch for a few places. I've been lucky to find easy accessible fun in town.
Vancouver Police Pipe Band's Robbie Burns Dinner - I don't know how widely publicized this event was, as I got wind of it through friend-of-a-friend, and they filled the church hall it was held at. It was their 100th year anniversary too, and they're the oldest non-military pipe band in BC. The evening included all traditions of piping in the haggis, the reading of Ode to a Haggis, the Toasts to Laddies/Lassies, and bagpipes, highland dancers and folk dancers. An appearance made from a few rare scotches, and my annual dose of haggis.
Music @ the Sylvia Hotel - Just a few blocks down from me, the historic Sylvia Hotel opened the first cocktail bar in Vancouver. Classy yet friendly, and cozy with live music featured Wed and Thurs - I'm all for promoting live music venues to support musicians amidst the sea of clubs and sports bars popping up. The duo played bluegrass/folk/blues on guitar and steel guitar, with guests on violin. According to the website this was not a one-off occasion and I'll be sure to check them out again.
Chinese New Year in Chinatown - I attended the parade with some friends, and am reminded that I am getting too old for this... Getting up early(ish) to stand in the cold for two hours amidst a sea of strangers to see special interest groups walk by. Perhaps parades have lost their magic for me. There were even a few vendors handing out free samples from trucks, but the lineups were so phenomenal that it wasn't worth it. I stayed a half hour in line for a bau because I had a craving for one and I am stubborn in my own traditions! The joy came of visiting the Dr Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, which is open by donation for some occasions throughout the year. They had two fellas pouring tea in a Chinese tea ceremony. He'd refill my teeny cup for as long as I sat there - I never turn down a cuppa tea - and learn about different teas and teapots. The sun emerged from beneath the grey, and I heard some more bagpipes and an accordion performing traditional songs from some of the other ethnic groups that flourished around the Chinatown neighbourhood - Jewish, German, Irish, Scottish, Hungarian, Ukranian, Italian. And some Chinese songs too.
Vancouver Police Pipe Band's Robbie Burns Dinner - I don't know how widely publicized this event was, as I got wind of it through friend-of-a-friend, and they filled the church hall it was held at. It was their 100th year anniversary too, and they're the oldest non-military pipe band in BC. The evening included all traditions of piping in the haggis, the reading of Ode to a Haggis, the Toasts to Laddies/Lassies, and bagpipes, highland dancers and folk dancers. An appearance made from a few rare scotches, and my annual dose of haggis.
Music @ the Sylvia Hotel - Just a few blocks down from me, the historic Sylvia Hotel opened the first cocktail bar in Vancouver. Classy yet friendly, and cozy with live music featured Wed and Thurs - I'm all for promoting live music venues to support musicians amidst the sea of clubs and sports bars popping up. The duo played bluegrass/folk/blues on guitar and steel guitar, with guests on violin. According to the website this was not a one-off occasion and I'll be sure to check them out again.
Chinese New Year in Chinatown - I attended the parade with some friends, and am reminded that I am getting too old for this... Getting up early(ish) to stand in the cold for two hours amidst a sea of strangers to see special interest groups walk by. Perhaps parades have lost their magic for me. There were even a few vendors handing out free samples from trucks, but the lineups were so phenomenal that it wasn't worth it. I stayed a half hour in line for a bau because I had a craving for one and I am stubborn in my own traditions! The joy came of visiting the Dr Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, which is open by donation for some occasions throughout the year. They had two fellas pouring tea in a Chinese tea ceremony. He'd refill my teeny cup for as long as I sat there - I never turn down a cuppa tea - and learn about different teas and teapots. The sun emerged from beneath the grey, and I heard some more bagpipes and an accordion performing traditional songs from some of the other ethnic groups that flourished around the Chinatown neighbourhood - Jewish, German, Irish, Scottish, Hungarian, Ukranian, Italian. And some Chinese songs too.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Finding butterflies in Mexico
This past weekend I saw an IMAX movie at Science World about the Monarch butterfly migration. It was well done, informative on both the life cycle of the butterflies as well as the lives of the pioneering researching couple and their contribution to track and monitor them. Beautifully shot with images on that huge screen, to immerse the viewer in a sky or forest full of butterflies.
That has renewed my bucket list quest to see it in person. I will see the Monarch migration before I die.
And with our environmental degradation depleting many highly specialized species, I'm running out of time. I don't have another few decades of my lifetime to get around to it eventually - I should go perhaps in the next year or two, or there won't be the massive congregations that make it such a spectacle. From redOrbit.com; "A team of researchers, including experts from the World Wildlife Fund and Mexico's National Commission of Protected Areas found nine hibernating colonies occupied nearly three acres during the winter 2012-13 - a 59 percent decrease from the previous winter. Nearly 20 years ago the colonies covered approximately 45 acres".
So far I know roughly where they're going; their winter Mecca is a protected bio reserve in Mexico so I can avoid following them through the States, and just meet them there. The Monarchs arrive in November and seem to coincide with the Nov 1 Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), so tradition holds that the butterflies are departed souls revisiting loved ones as they flit through the decorated cemetaries. It's a sweet thought, though I'd feel a bit intrusive to partake if I had no specific personal attachment there. From Dec-Jan the butterflies would be dormant in great clusters hanging from the trees, still and eerie. Perhaps the best time would be in March, when the weather warms up and they fill the skies. I hear the sheer volume of that many silent wings in flight sound like light rain.
I would like to tie this into seeing a sea turtle beach hatch baby sea turtles (likely also a dying phenomenon), but that's in the summer, and butterflies are Nov-Mar. So I guess that means I'll have to go to Mexico more than once, oh gee damn...
So that's the plan so far. Now that it's publicly posted I'm putting that out there in the cosmos, the wheels are in motion! Starting now I squirrell away money (moreso than usual?) and save the date. More reseach required.
That has renewed my bucket list quest to see it in person. I will see the Monarch migration before I die.
And with our environmental degradation depleting many highly specialized species, I'm running out of time. I don't have another few decades of my lifetime to get around to it eventually - I should go perhaps in the next year or two, or there won't be the massive congregations that make it such a spectacle. From redOrbit.com; "A team of researchers, including experts from the World Wildlife Fund and Mexico's National Commission of Protected Areas found nine hibernating colonies occupied nearly three acres during the winter 2012-13 - a 59 percent decrease from the previous winter. Nearly 20 years ago the colonies covered approximately 45 acres".
So far I know roughly where they're going; their winter Mecca is a protected bio reserve in Mexico so I can avoid following them through the States, and just meet them there. The Monarchs arrive in November and seem to coincide with the Nov 1 Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), so tradition holds that the butterflies are departed souls revisiting loved ones as they flit through the decorated cemetaries. It's a sweet thought, though I'd feel a bit intrusive to partake if I had no specific personal attachment there. From Dec-Jan the butterflies would be dormant in great clusters hanging from the trees, still and eerie. Perhaps the best time would be in March, when the weather warms up and they fill the skies. I hear the sheer volume of that many silent wings in flight sound like light rain.
I would like to tie this into seeing a sea turtle beach hatch baby sea turtles (likely also a dying phenomenon), but that's in the summer, and butterflies are Nov-Mar. So I guess that means I'll have to go to Mexico more than once, oh gee damn...
So that's the plan so far. Now that it's publicly posted I'm putting that out there in the cosmos, the wheels are in motion! Starting now I squirrell away money (moreso than usual?) and save the date. More reseach required.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Christmas Spirit
As the last post for 2013 - see, I kept my sorta-New year's resolution! - this is the only time I've found for writing this month. The first week of December was simply planning my whereabouts and had two Christmas parties, followed by a week of decorating and shopping/gathering gifts, then a week of baking (lastly, to ensure freshness) that was also tied into visiting friends and many card games w/rum+coke+egg nog. Christmas itself was a trek to my parents' place in the Okanagan for a few days.
This year it seemed to take a while for me personally to wind up to the real Christmas... excitement? Or at least the calm enjoyment. I think this is primarily because I've decided that Christmas for me is not a lot of flash+dazzle, and certainly not the commercial hype and guilt-induced spending to impress others. It's not that I can't afford it, I just don't subscribe to that mentality and am disappointed that that is our social norm, and that it's more concentrated around the holiday season. I dislike the 'rockin'!!' or jazzy squealing brass big-band (most prevalent in malls) Christmas songs about Santa and how much stuff he's bringing or whatever the singer is demanding, it seems so over-the-top and has stretched the classic notion of generosity to the point of ridiculous overconsumption. Thus most of December - indeed, from Halloween onward - I limit my time in malls as much as I can and will often be frowning when I'm there. Sorry.
I gave this a good long _think_ as I sat at a Christmas party table among strangers, all dressed in our finest and enjoying the meal but not really connecting. I drifted off mesmerized at a Christmas tree in the far corner, neatly perfect and fake but its tiny lights quietly welcoming. Dinner was turkey+vegetables+potatos typical for Canada, and it occurred to me that if one removes the "Christ" and "Mass" from Christmas, what are we left with? I propose that we are left with another Thanksgiving;
- there is a focus on a feast, and the meal is practically the same for both holidays.
- for many it may be the only time to get together as a larger familial unit or with friends that have been gone/busy all year otherwise, therefore there is heightened attention to the presence of each, whether it be baby's first Christmas or an elderly relative's last. Be thankful that we have them in our lives.
- as the year closes it's a time to recount to others as well as yourself what's happened in the past year before asking for more _whatever_ next year. Be thankful for what possessions you have, good health if you've got it, and all positive events in this year.
While missionaries have spread Christianity to all corners of the globe there's no escaping Christmas as the most widely recognized holiday no matter what its expression, so we all may as well enjoy it for whatever it means to us individually. There's a movement to take the "Christ" out of Christmas and officially make it a culturally unspecific and religion-less "Xmas" - not just shorthand for writing, it's even pronounced
ks
m
s, which is really politically-correct overkill. I feel that any religious holiday can be experienced or explored as long as the believers are tolerant and the non-believers are respectful. I still wish people "Merry Christmas" and if they're going to be offended by it then perhaps they're overlooking the intention of goodwill that spans across cultures during a cold season of celebrating winter harvest/resilience amidst natural scarcity (for example, a conifer that's celebrated for staying green while the deciduous trees around them are bare and asleep).
My Christmas season was not entirely Christ-less, as I caught a Winterharp concert on the winter solstice at a church nearby. I've seen them before and was glad that I could catch them again, as I wasn't sure I'd get tickets, this was a Christmas gift to myself; beautifully elegant music resonating in a great stone building. That's more my style of Christmas, perhaps that's what I'd been missing in the weeks prior!
I got to enjoy the sacred space and had a good _think_ about Jesus too. Churches usually have a crucifix somewhere, which depending on the church/artist can be more or less bloody and grotesque. This just makes me sad. Not only was He supposed to be a sacrifice to end all other blood sacrifices, but it was such a drawn out brutal ordeal I wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone a nice guy teacher-and-healer. Even when I go fishing I insist on clubbing my catch promptly. In our time we can think we're a little more humane even in taking lives for food, sport, or war... but are we really any better off than 2000 years ago? Perhaps in the same church there could be a picture of the Sacred Heart. That's more my kind of Jesus, or at least a more hopeful notion. Sure He's still wounded, but He's got a glowing heart that burns with love! Says "Hi, I'm your friend! See my heart glows!" How many people do you know have glowing hearts?! We need more folks with glowing hearts!
This year it seemed to take a while for me personally to wind up to the real Christmas... excitement? Or at least the calm enjoyment. I think this is primarily because I've decided that Christmas for me is not a lot of flash+dazzle, and certainly not the commercial hype and guilt-induced spending to impress others. It's not that I can't afford it, I just don't subscribe to that mentality and am disappointed that that is our social norm, and that it's more concentrated around the holiday season. I dislike the 'rockin'!!' or jazzy squealing brass big-band (most prevalent in malls) Christmas songs about Santa and how much stuff he's bringing or whatever the singer is demanding, it seems so over-the-top and has stretched the classic notion of generosity to the point of ridiculous overconsumption. Thus most of December - indeed, from Halloween onward - I limit my time in malls as much as I can and will often be frowning when I'm there. Sorry.
I gave this a good long _think_ as I sat at a Christmas party table among strangers, all dressed in our finest and enjoying the meal but not really connecting. I drifted off mesmerized at a Christmas tree in the far corner, neatly perfect and fake but its tiny lights quietly welcoming. Dinner was turkey+vegetables+potatos typical for Canada, and it occurred to me that if one removes the "Christ" and "Mass" from Christmas, what are we left with? I propose that we are left with another Thanksgiving;
- there is a focus on a feast, and the meal is practically the same for both holidays.
- for many it may be the only time to get together as a larger familial unit or with friends that have been gone/busy all year otherwise, therefore there is heightened attention to the presence of each, whether it be baby's first Christmas or an elderly relative's last. Be thankful that we have them in our lives.
- as the year closes it's a time to recount to others as well as yourself what's happened in the past year before asking for more _whatever_ next year. Be thankful for what possessions you have, good health if you've got it, and all positive events in this year.
While missionaries have spread Christianity to all corners of the globe there's no escaping Christmas as the most widely recognized holiday no matter what its expression, so we all may as well enjoy it for whatever it means to us individually. There's a movement to take the "Christ" out of Christmas and officially make it a culturally unspecific and religion-less "Xmas" - not just shorthand for writing, it's even pronounced
ksms, which is really politically-correct overkill. I feel that any religious holiday can be experienced or explored as long as the believers are tolerant and the non-believers are respectful. I still wish people "Merry Christmas" and if they're going to be offended by it then perhaps they're overlooking the intention of goodwill that spans across cultures during a cold season of celebrating winter harvest/resilience amidst natural scarcity (for example, a conifer that's celebrated for staying green while the deciduous trees around them are bare and asleep). My Christmas season was not entirely Christ-less, as I caught a Winterharp concert on the winter solstice at a church nearby. I've seen them before and was glad that I could catch them again, as I wasn't sure I'd get tickets, this was a Christmas gift to myself; beautifully elegant music resonating in a great stone building. That's more my style of Christmas, perhaps that's what I'd been missing in the weeks prior!
I got to enjoy the sacred space and had a good _think_ about Jesus too. Churches usually have a crucifix somewhere, which depending on the church/artist can be more or less bloody and grotesque. This just makes me sad. Not only was He supposed to be a sacrifice to end all other blood sacrifices, but it was such a drawn out brutal ordeal I wouldn't wish that on anyone, let alone a nice guy teacher-and-healer. Even when I go fishing I insist on clubbing my catch promptly. In our time we can think we're a little more humane even in taking lives for food, sport, or war... but are we really any better off than 2000 years ago? Perhaps in the same church there could be a picture of the Sacred Heart. That's more my kind of Jesus, or at least a more hopeful notion. Sure He's still wounded, but He's got a glowing heart that burns with love! Says "Hi, I'm your friend! See my heart glows!" How many people do you know have glowing hearts?! We need more folks with glowing hearts!
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Cornucopia, in the cold
Or perhaps titled, How To Be A Bum In A Posh Resort Town
Whistler is home of the 2010 winter Olympics, but otherwise a fairly small resort town with a focus on outdoor recreation, one-road-in-one-road-out, and otherwise quite isolated from any other town or city. Took a Greyhound bus two hours to get here from Vancouver. I think the buildings are beautiful though a bit imposing, in a sleek modern way that uses a lot of stone and wood, that average perhaps five storeys tall. The streets meander like a proper 'village', squares connected with passageways and trails. Deliberate landscaping and meticulous maintenance. The population seems quite young and shifts with the seasonal workers, everyone seeming to be from somewhere else, and all very hospitable and helpful.
Cornucopia was initially a wine festival, that has now expanded into food and healthy lifestyle lectures/events, in Whistler. I'd heard about it a few years ago and either forgot or was too late to volunteer. This year I threw my hat in the ring and was accepted, 'working' a few events with a range of job duties. I arrived early, lest there be any issues with transportation, and currently I am floating homelessly as I typically do when I travel. I'll check into a hostel if I desperately need to, if I get hurt or sick, but otherwise am stubbornly cheap and would rather save the ~$200 in accommodation for the six days. I'll also try skipping the bus back, if I can hitchhike, as I have no pressing concerns to address that require my immediate attendance next week.
I am toting a fair bit of luggage - backpack, netbook, purse - half of which are 'nice' clothes that we wear to dazzle and impress and appear professional while serving guests, but are of little use when sleeping in the wild. Admittedly this goes against two rules of backpacking; #1 - don't bring anything you can't afford to lose, and #2 - bring half as much stuff and twice as much money as you think you'll need.
Day 1 - Arrive in Whistler Village afternoon, first priority is to find the Tourism Office which is conveniently right across the street from the bus dropoff and very obvious. Get a free map of the town. I have the worker there mark the conference center for 'work', the library for internet, and any suggestions for pubs with live music on (both an exploration and experience of the town, and an excuse to stay out of the cold for as long as possible. Not a fan of karaoke? I will be now!). Get a local paper that lists the schedules of various performances in pubs. Find the conference center to meet organizers and familiarize with the building. Get a printed Cornucopia schedule. Find library to check my emailed schedule with the printed one and note times to better plan my whereabouts effectively. Note that the library has cheap coffee, hot water for my soup+oatmeal packets. Internet communications and research till library closes, find The Crystal Lounge with comfy chairs and a fireplace to keep warm. Somehow the ambience didn't suit me, perhaps that the karaoke started late, or that they dimmed the lights (and fire!!!) at 9pm, leaving me unable to write postcards or read or do anything more really than avoid staring at the young couple obliviously making out on the couch across from me. Friendly staff, served me hot water without demanding I buy alcohol, and recharged my phone behind their counter. Move onto FireRock (loosely affiliated with but run separately from the Westin Resort & Spa) which was much better for me; less crowded, well lit and fire going till 11pm, again friendly staff with hot water, and open mic night with the locals = better music. Engaging conversation, bartender refilled my waterbottle before pub closed. Float around town and find the last warmth of the dying nightclubs at 2am. Note that the bus stop benches here are not bum-proofed like the ones in Vancouver, as in, made deliberately awkward for lying down on. Bench outside the Hilton had too many night staff milling around too close for my comfort, though I'm sure they were all very nice too. Bench outside Delta hotel was too cold. Speak with locals, the only 24hr business to sit in was the McDonalds I didn't even know was there. Buy a cheap McChicken, the clerk commented that I looked tired and let me sleep there till 6am, as well as adding some free fries.
Day 2 - Uncomfy benches, bright and noisy but better than outside. From the town center I time myself walking how long it would take to get to the Fairmont in the Upper Village because I will have little time between the complimentary meditation+yoga offered for volunteers and my 'work' on Thursday. Takes 7 minutes, through a dark section with an information sign about bears! Find the Fairmont with no problems, welcomed by concierge despite being very early for class, learn that it's unusually dark because of a planned service disruption by hydro crews. Meditation class, yoga is tricky but makes my body feel better after awkward not-sleep. Free tea. Hit library for communications etc. Fluke into a small lecture about whether the choices we make in our life will lead to 'a good life' - as perceived by Aristotle. I leave thinking that Aristotle would be very disappointed with me and I should redesign my whole life (I'll discuss this again in its own post). Head to Fairmont's Mallard Bar for live music+hot water, large room with barely anyone in it, enjoy the show white writing a postcard, and notice that music I grew up with in high school is now considered a 'classic'. Music stops at 10:30pm since barely anyone's there or noticing, staff remarks that they're operating at 8% capacity. Move to Crystal Lounge again for more hot water+another pretty good solo guitarist in a dead bar, staff turn on fireplace at my request. They close up the bar around me at 1am and make no mention that it's time to go, so I save them the trouble and leave when they do at 1:30am. Return to the Fairmont before 2am, respectfully stay on outside bench since I'm not a paying guest. At 4am-ish I sneak in to use their washroom and add another layer of clothes, return to couch in foyer that's a bit drier and warmer than outside, concierge doesn't notice/mind (I don't want to upset them if I plan to return daily for meditation+yoga). Watch the rain start, and 'sleep' a bit.
Day 3 - Slink quietly to couch in lobby, keep quiet, get some free coffee. Another wardrobe change from several layers-of-everything-warm-I-have-on-me to simple yoga clothes, Caffeine+airy clothes+warmer couch = more positive mood! Only three people for meditation class and 4 for yoga, yoga has two photographers I am NOT happy about. Anyone who knows me knows I'm fairly selective about media photos and my cyber-footprint at the best of times, and am NOT keen of my terrible downward dog being splashed across the Globe and Mail. Upon inquiry I find that because it's an editorial and not for promotional gain they don't need permission to use my image, it's just "capturing life". I do NOT fancy being captured, especially without consent or even the courtesy of notice that we'll be filmed. I guess in these times of amateur photojournalism we're all supposed to be fine with our image utilized in whatever context we may or may not even see to protest. Leave yoga feeling very irritated - so much for a calming preparation for work! Head to conference center early for my shift, volunteer center not open, so I use this time for internet communications etc. Found a host for the night!! My first task for the festival is to restock the Cornucopia brochures for the hotels, and this being the first sunny day of my visit I enjoy the walk around and see the town in daylight. Eventually wander back to the conference center, and with no other assignments to do, sit in on a cocktail mixing bartender's challenge featuring Flora de Cana rum. There is a rep from Whistler Brewing dispensing beer samples too; Black Tusk (weighty, with coffee+chocolate notes) and a chipotle beer new for the season that was surprisingly subtle. The bartenders don't need any assistance tearing down after the event, so I leave to the library to await my host getting off of work, have granola bar+cup of soup. Meet my host at his work, he drove us back to his place in the community north of Whistler Village called Emerald. Chat a bit and listen to him play a bit of piano and organ, he's easygoing and has solid opinions, which is a nice combination. Have dinner of what was around the kitchen; ground turkey tacos w/garlic cream cheese and grated cheese. Beer and Skittles, watch documentaries on projected global flooding and construction tunnels of the pyramids, but I'm falling asleep already and it's not even 10pm yet. So nice to have a hot shower! My bedroom had it's own thermostat too, I'll make good use of that!
Day 4 - Wake up at 7:30, first good sleep in a long time. Get a ride back to town with my host as he went to work, my shift schedule means I'll have to bus back and find his place tonight. Have an apple for breakfast, more computer time. When it rains it pours - volunteer organizer came by and says that some restaurant demonstrations' events had slow ticket sales, so I can sit in on them. "Sit in" on these means we get to try, as long as we're not wearing our identification badges. Start off with a greeting mimosa, nice start to the day. Earls showcased their new brunch menu, and first off needed a volunteer... so sure! I make a Caesar on stage, and thus get one bigger than everyone else, hooray! In order was the following: a tiny granola+yogurt parfait, a Moscow Mule shooter, a teeny frittata w/side salad, a hot buttered rum shooter, and a dainty portion of sourdough French toast. A few baby Caesars were leftover, get one of those too.
The next demonstration in 45 minutes, time to check computer quick, walk around for a stretch. IT IS NOW SNOWING! Onward to a show on cerviche, a very personable presenter shows us 4 fantastic recipes, and as I inquire what he does with the leftover ingredients he wheels away afterward (don't throw it out!), he enthusiastically offers me to take some from the kitchen later. I figure it'll make a nice treat for my nice host. Alright, playtime's over and now it's time to 'work', I don my apron and tend to a lecture on making cocktails at home. I didn't receive any instructions, and no other recognizable staff were helping though a few plain-clothed folks seemed to take tasks on themselves. They all came out from wherever they were hiding to help with cleanup and tear down of that event. I get to try a bit of rum punch. 1hr break in the staff room to type and have coffee+gummy worms, more staff are here for the next event, some recognize each other from the previous year. At 6pm I am to help hand out tasting note brochures and wine glasses at the door of the next event; several Argentina wines and a huge buffet of mostly meat that smells amazing. First time I've seen a real roast pig. Have a great time 'working', an easy contribution to make others happy, who are already excited and cheerful anyway. As the event winds down there's enough food left for the volunteers to indulge, and us door staff wistfully watch our ranks filter away with heaping plates of food while we await our relief team. Myself and another woman are the last two to eat, the food is a little cool but delicious. I even get the cheek meat of the roasted pig upon request. Return for the last 15 min of random tidying up. I think that can sum up the nature of 'work' here; random. Everyone does every job here and there. Much fluttering from task to task and scurrying to find supplies and prepare rooms from one event to another. It's not quite the precision and flow of the Vancouver Winefest, but similar, and seems appropriate to the overall vibe of Whistler. The cerviche chef had given away all the leftover cerviche by the time my shift finished, so I return empty handed. IT STOPPED SNOWING! I'm glad, as I wait about an hour out at the bus stop for a bus to take me to Emerald. My host is asleep anyway by the time I get there around 11pm, was good enough to leave the door unlocked and I quietly slink in, shower, sleep.
Day 5 - Wake around 7:30pm, listen for the telltale cough of my host before boiling water in a pot for some echinacea tea for us. Not much time to drink it, I pack my bags and am back out into the wild for tonight onward since he's hosting others. We drive to another neighbouring town to fetch his snowboard from storage for him to spend a few hours after work on the slopes. We part at his workplace and I head to the conference center, brief computer check, and sit in on a raw food demonstration that gives me a spirulina+algae+coconut milk juice, homemade almond milk, a delicious granola, and gluten-free rice flour bread with raw pumpkin+date spread. 'Worked' a lecture on wine industry's trends, and could sit in on it but not drink, only smell the samples... torturous Moscato and NZ Sauv Blanc! I feel the organizers poured too many place settings for rather small ticket sales, perhaps hoping for last-minute whims for the anticipated flood of Whistler visitors for opening day. The lectures are alarmingly poorly attended, a capacity of 50+ and only 8 come... We dump out a lot of untouched alcohol, of all sorts. The only sold-out show is pairing wine with pizza, where I finally get a chance to pour. We serve pizza and get the leftover crusts for our volunteer staff room. I get a trial-by-fire tour of the back passageways of the conference center as I 'work' several lectures, setting up and taking down. I find that if I assign myself a task then trust that other aspects are being taken care of by others, the 'work' gets done faster and with more consistancy, and we're not undoing each other's tasks. With pizza crusts and water in my tummy I have a little time to kill on the computer before bussing a 3hr evening event, 'working' with the kitchen staff of the conference center, nice crew of people and very patient with a newbie. Bussing tables is a simple steady task I enjoy. Break a glass, noooooo!!! The group putting on the event has a club called Garfinkles, and welcomes all the 'working' staff there afterwards as thanks. Head there, but it's loud and reminds me again that I'm not a clubby person, but at least it's warm. I get a text from a couchsurfer who I've had a bit of email correspondence with in weeks prior to my arrival here, suggesting we meet up to watch a band at Longhorn's, and this seems like much preferable option for me. I hurry across town, find Longhorn's and the fella inside with no problem. The band I recognize as July Talks, one that I'd discovered just on my last trip to Halifax, I'm amazed that they'd escaped my live music radar, thrilled they play a "small town" that I happen to be in, and disappointed that I just caught the last song of their set. I discuss my adventures so far with this couchsurfer, who can't host because of disapproving roommates, and we part as Longhorn closes at 1am. I return to Garfinkles for the last hour before it closes at 2am and chat with a fella who seems drunk but amicable enough. I get a text from the couchsurfer again who refuses to let me sleep in the cold, drives back to pick me up and bring me to the neighbouring community of Alpine Meadows, has a comfy couch in a (very) warm house, finds a sleeping bag for me, makes a cuppa chamomile tea for us, and we have a further chat on travels, food and eastern religions. Awesome craic, that just makes my night. Slept like a log.
Day 6 - Awake I'm not sure how, from a vivid dream that's now lost, around 8-ish? IT IS SNOWING AGAIN. Have a quick shower while my nice host makes us egg+bacon breakfast sandwiches and mandarin oranges to be consumed later, he drives us back to the Westin Resort where he works (I should be in touch with him later to see if he can sneak me into the sauna facilities), I head to the convention center to type awhile. I notice that I can't find my black shoes, I think they fell out of an open bag through the various coat-checks the previous night. Annoying, but they were getting ratty and were free to me anyway, so I won't cry about it. Eat the breakfast sandwich, an orange, and the candy+coffee in the volunteer staff room. Assist with a paella demonstration from the same cerviche chef, another great show (I will commend him to the Cornucopia organizers). Smells fantastic, and don't get to try any of it! Our organizer decides that the remaining events to 'work' don't require volunteer assistance, and she thanks us for our service with tickets to sit in AND DRINK the wine in another well-presented lecture on French reds. Get to browse (and sample) products in the artisan market; smoothies, tea, gelato, granola, and various baked products including bannock. The market was just wrapping up and vendors were giving away promotional samples just to avoid having to transport it back home, so I have plenty of tasty bannocks now, slightly sweet and pretty greasy, maybe will keep me alive awhile longer. Time to leave the familiarity of the conference center that's been a base of operations for the past week, plunder what granola bars and candy I can and then head off into the cold damp, sometime during the day it had stopped snowing. Garfinkles is still closed, Longhorn doesn't have my shoes, I settle next to the fireplace in the Crystal Lounge for a jam session, music sounds pretty decent with a reggae beat mostly. Purge garbage from my purse/bags (long overdue), organize, search online for rideshares headed south for late Mon/early Tues. As the bar closes the last stragglers of the night decide I'm coming with them to continue the jam session at someone's cabin 'close by' in the neighbouring community of Alta Vista. The host is less thrilled that these strangers are descending upon his place, but doesn't object to me staying there. Maybe I just look like a safe person, really I'm quiet and tired. At the cabin I share my bannocks - I think the big Chesapeake dog is most keen on them - and there's a bit of music of songs I dislike anyway. I suppose they must think me very boring as I don't drink cold beer on a cold night, smoke pot, or play music really. Eventually the guests drift off, the host (a down-to-earth Nova Scotian tradesman) tries to chat till 3:30am but we're both tired. I get a couch though the cabin is old and cold, I sleep in my jacket. Comfy enough.
Day 7 - Wake at 7:30-8ish, breakfast is a bannock and an apple. Watch some news on tv with my host, walk back to Whistler Village. Nice walk along the Valley Trail, and only 1km, but damp and cold, with light rain/snow. I'm getting tired of this, it's time to go home, and upon consulting a map I'm not very enthusiastic about walking (hitchhiking, but I must be prepared to walk the whole way if no one stops for me) from Whistler to Vancouver. Head to the library, text a fella in Vancouver to see if he's up for a drive to Whistler, he'll come fetch me after the party tonight. My host from Sat night found my shoes and came to the library to return them! Have tea, candy, bannock. Clean up and head to conference center, wait in foyer with a few others till 6pm. We get a crack at the leftover wine now, and foolishly I follow some ladies that grab an Australian Jacob's Crossing Moscato which is sweet and floral and lovely but throws off my palate for anything I taste after that. Dinner is salad+shepherd's pie+lasagna, filling and warm. I sample the following;
Sage Hill - Okanagan - Gewurztraminer
Chateau Baduc - Bordeaux Blanc - Sauvignon Blanc+Semillion
Matua - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Campo Viejo - Rioja - Crianza
Calliope (Burrowing Owl) - Okanagan - Syrah+Merlot
Gaydd - France - Grenache
Desert Hills - Okanagan - Gamay
Maple Leaf Spirits - Pear Liquor
Matua Paretai Estate - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
900 Grapes - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Joseph Mellot - Le Tronsec Pouilly-Fume - Sauvignon Blanc
Domaine de Chaberton - BC - Bacchus
Deinhard Piesporter - Mosel - Riesling
Fritz's Gunderloch - Germany - Reisling
Craggy Range - Hawkes' Bay, NZ - Bordeaux blend
I realize that as I select wines based on familiar varietals that I inadvertently choose some BC wines that I could easily get any other time, and I should really use this opportunity to focus on international wines. I absentmindedly yet obsessively organize the bottles on the tables and cooler to help others find what they're looking for, and somehow become the consultant because I'm standing next to the table. The evening degenerates into firing wine corks from empty water bottles. They kick us out at 10pm, I skip the clubby afterparty because I can't taste anything anymore even if there were free drinks. I sit on the steps and for the first time really enjoy the soft snowfall. It's so much nicer when you know you're guaranteed someplace warm.
Aside from the Greyhound ticket to get to Whistler, my total expenditures for the week was ~$3. A lot of it is not exciting, it's observation and resourcefulness, flexible planning, and patience that most wouldn't bother with. And a lot of luck and good people! I'm exhausted, less from lack-of-sleep than from just being in survival-mode for a week. I'm glad I went, and think I'll try again next year, but now am glad for a rest and return to my friends and familiarity.
Whistler is home of the 2010 winter Olympics, but otherwise a fairly small resort town with a focus on outdoor recreation, one-road-in-one-road-out, and otherwise quite isolated from any other town or city. Took a Greyhound bus two hours to get here from Vancouver. I think the buildings are beautiful though a bit imposing, in a sleek modern way that uses a lot of stone and wood, that average perhaps five storeys tall. The streets meander like a proper 'village', squares connected with passageways and trails. Deliberate landscaping and meticulous maintenance. The population seems quite young and shifts with the seasonal workers, everyone seeming to be from somewhere else, and all very hospitable and helpful.
Cornucopia was initially a wine festival, that has now expanded into food and healthy lifestyle lectures/events, in Whistler. I'd heard about it a few years ago and either forgot or was too late to volunteer. This year I threw my hat in the ring and was accepted, 'working' a few events with a range of job duties. I arrived early, lest there be any issues with transportation, and currently I am floating homelessly as I typically do when I travel. I'll check into a hostel if I desperately need to, if I get hurt or sick, but otherwise am stubbornly cheap and would rather save the ~$200 in accommodation for the six days. I'll also try skipping the bus back, if I can hitchhike, as I have no pressing concerns to address that require my immediate attendance next week.
I am toting a fair bit of luggage - backpack, netbook, purse - half of which are 'nice' clothes that we wear to dazzle and impress and appear professional while serving guests, but are of little use when sleeping in the wild. Admittedly this goes against two rules of backpacking; #1 - don't bring anything you can't afford to lose, and #2 - bring half as much stuff and twice as much money as you think you'll need.
Day 1 - Arrive in Whistler Village afternoon, first priority is to find the Tourism Office which is conveniently right across the street from the bus dropoff and very obvious. Get a free map of the town. I have the worker there mark the conference center for 'work', the library for internet, and any suggestions for pubs with live music on (both an exploration and experience of the town, and an excuse to stay out of the cold for as long as possible. Not a fan of karaoke? I will be now!). Get a local paper that lists the schedules of various performances in pubs. Find the conference center to meet organizers and familiarize with the building. Get a printed Cornucopia schedule. Find library to check my emailed schedule with the printed one and note times to better plan my whereabouts effectively. Note that the library has cheap coffee, hot water for my soup+oatmeal packets. Internet communications and research till library closes, find The Crystal Lounge with comfy chairs and a fireplace to keep warm. Somehow the ambience didn't suit me, perhaps that the karaoke started late, or that they dimmed the lights (and fire!!!) at 9pm, leaving me unable to write postcards or read or do anything more really than avoid staring at the young couple obliviously making out on the couch across from me. Friendly staff, served me hot water without demanding I buy alcohol, and recharged my phone behind their counter. Move onto FireRock (loosely affiliated with but run separately from the Westin Resort & Spa) which was much better for me; less crowded, well lit and fire going till 11pm, again friendly staff with hot water, and open mic night with the locals = better music. Engaging conversation, bartender refilled my waterbottle before pub closed. Float around town and find the last warmth of the dying nightclubs at 2am. Note that the bus stop benches here are not bum-proofed like the ones in Vancouver, as in, made deliberately awkward for lying down on. Bench outside the Hilton had too many night staff milling around too close for my comfort, though I'm sure they were all very nice too. Bench outside Delta hotel was too cold. Speak with locals, the only 24hr business to sit in was the McDonalds I didn't even know was there. Buy a cheap McChicken, the clerk commented that I looked tired and let me sleep there till 6am, as well as adding some free fries.
Day 2 - Uncomfy benches, bright and noisy but better than outside. From the town center I time myself walking how long it would take to get to the Fairmont in the Upper Village because I will have little time between the complimentary meditation+yoga offered for volunteers and my 'work' on Thursday. Takes 7 minutes, through a dark section with an information sign about bears! Find the Fairmont with no problems, welcomed by concierge despite being very early for class, learn that it's unusually dark because of a planned service disruption by hydro crews. Meditation class, yoga is tricky but makes my body feel better after awkward not-sleep. Free tea. Hit library for communications etc. Fluke into a small lecture about whether the choices we make in our life will lead to 'a good life' - as perceived by Aristotle. I leave thinking that Aristotle would be very disappointed with me and I should redesign my whole life (I'll discuss this again in its own post). Head to Fairmont's Mallard Bar for live music+hot water, large room with barely anyone in it, enjoy the show white writing a postcard, and notice that music I grew up with in high school is now considered a 'classic'. Music stops at 10:30pm since barely anyone's there or noticing, staff remarks that they're operating at 8% capacity. Move to Crystal Lounge again for more hot water+another pretty good solo guitarist in a dead bar, staff turn on fireplace at my request. They close up the bar around me at 1am and make no mention that it's time to go, so I save them the trouble and leave when they do at 1:30am. Return to the Fairmont before 2am, respectfully stay on outside bench since I'm not a paying guest. At 4am-ish I sneak in to use their washroom and add another layer of clothes, return to couch in foyer that's a bit drier and warmer than outside, concierge doesn't notice/mind (I don't want to upset them if I plan to return daily for meditation+yoga). Watch the rain start, and 'sleep' a bit.
Day 3 - Slink quietly to couch in lobby, keep quiet, get some free coffee. Another wardrobe change from several layers-of-everything-warm-I-have-on-me to simple yoga clothes, Caffeine+airy clothes+warmer couch = more positive mood! Only three people for meditation class and 4 for yoga, yoga has two photographers I am NOT happy about. Anyone who knows me knows I'm fairly selective about media photos and my cyber-footprint at the best of times, and am NOT keen of my terrible downward dog being splashed across the Globe and Mail. Upon inquiry I find that because it's an editorial and not for promotional gain they don't need permission to use my image, it's just "capturing life". I do NOT fancy being captured, especially without consent or even the courtesy of notice that we'll be filmed. I guess in these times of amateur photojournalism we're all supposed to be fine with our image utilized in whatever context we may or may not even see to protest. Leave yoga feeling very irritated - so much for a calming preparation for work! Head to conference center early for my shift, volunteer center not open, so I use this time for internet communications etc. Found a host for the night!! My first task for the festival is to restock the Cornucopia brochures for the hotels, and this being the first sunny day of my visit I enjoy the walk around and see the town in daylight. Eventually wander back to the conference center, and with no other assignments to do, sit in on a cocktail mixing bartender's challenge featuring Flora de Cana rum. There is a rep from Whistler Brewing dispensing beer samples too; Black Tusk (weighty, with coffee+chocolate notes) and a chipotle beer new for the season that was surprisingly subtle. The bartenders don't need any assistance tearing down after the event, so I leave to the library to await my host getting off of work, have granola bar+cup of soup. Meet my host at his work, he drove us back to his place in the community north of Whistler Village called Emerald. Chat a bit and listen to him play a bit of piano and organ, he's easygoing and has solid opinions, which is a nice combination. Have dinner of what was around the kitchen; ground turkey tacos w/garlic cream cheese and grated cheese. Beer and Skittles, watch documentaries on projected global flooding and construction tunnels of the pyramids, but I'm falling asleep already and it's not even 10pm yet. So nice to have a hot shower! My bedroom had it's own thermostat too, I'll make good use of that!
Day 4 - Wake up at 7:30, first good sleep in a long time. Get a ride back to town with my host as he went to work, my shift schedule means I'll have to bus back and find his place tonight. Have an apple for breakfast, more computer time. When it rains it pours - volunteer organizer came by and says that some restaurant demonstrations' events had slow ticket sales, so I can sit in on them. "Sit in" on these means we get to try, as long as we're not wearing our identification badges. Start off with a greeting mimosa, nice start to the day. Earls showcased their new brunch menu, and first off needed a volunteer... so sure! I make a Caesar on stage, and thus get one bigger than everyone else, hooray! In order was the following: a tiny granola+yogurt parfait, a Moscow Mule shooter, a teeny frittata w/side salad, a hot buttered rum shooter, and a dainty portion of sourdough French toast. A few baby Caesars were leftover, get one of those too. 
The next demonstration in 45 minutes, time to check computer quick, walk around for a stretch. IT IS NOW SNOWING! Onward to a show on cerviche, a very personable presenter shows us 4 fantastic recipes, and as I inquire what he does with the leftover ingredients he wheels away afterward (don't throw it out!), he enthusiastically offers me to take some from the kitchen later. I figure it'll make a nice treat for my nice host. Alright, playtime's over and now it's time to 'work', I don my apron and tend to a lecture on making cocktails at home. I didn't receive any instructions, and no other recognizable staff were helping though a few plain-clothed folks seemed to take tasks on themselves. They all came out from wherever they were hiding to help with cleanup and tear down of that event. I get to try a bit of rum punch. 1hr break in the staff room to type and have coffee+gummy worms, more staff are here for the next event, some recognize each other from the previous year. At 6pm I am to help hand out tasting note brochures and wine glasses at the door of the next event; several Argentina wines and a huge buffet of mostly meat that smells amazing. First time I've seen a real roast pig. Have a great time 'working', an easy contribution to make others happy, who are already excited and cheerful anyway. As the event winds down there's enough food left for the volunteers to indulge, and us door staff wistfully watch our ranks filter away with heaping plates of food while we await our relief team. Myself and another woman are the last two to eat, the food is a little cool but delicious. I even get the cheek meat of the roasted pig upon request. Return for the last 15 min of random tidying up. I think that can sum up the nature of 'work' here; random. Everyone does every job here and there. Much fluttering from task to task and scurrying to find supplies and prepare rooms from one event to another. It's not quite the precision and flow of the Vancouver Winefest, but similar, and seems appropriate to the overall vibe of Whistler. The cerviche chef had given away all the leftover cerviche by the time my shift finished, so I return empty handed. IT STOPPED SNOWING! I'm glad, as I wait about an hour out at the bus stop for a bus to take me to Emerald. My host is asleep anyway by the time I get there around 11pm, was good enough to leave the door unlocked and I quietly slink in, shower, sleep.Day 6 - Awake I'm not sure how, from a vivid dream that's now lost, around 8-ish? IT IS SNOWING AGAIN. Have a quick shower while my nice host makes us egg+bacon breakfast sandwiches and mandarin oranges to be consumed later, he drives us back to the Westin Resort where he works (I should be in touch with him later to see if he can sneak me into the sauna facilities), I head to the convention center to type awhile. I notice that I can't find my black shoes, I think they fell out of an open bag through the various coat-checks the previous night. Annoying, but they were getting ratty and were free to me anyway, so I won't cry about it. Eat the breakfast sandwich, an orange, and the candy+coffee in the volunteer staff room. Assist with a paella demonstration from the same cerviche chef, another great show (I will commend him to the Cornucopia organizers). Smells fantastic, and don't get to try any of it! Our organizer decides that the remaining events to 'work' don't require volunteer assistance, and she thanks us for our service with tickets to sit in AND DRINK the wine in another well-presented lecture on French reds. Get to browse (and sample) products in the artisan market; smoothies, tea, gelato, granola, and various baked products including bannock. The market was just wrapping up and vendors were giving away promotional samples just to avoid having to transport it back home, so I have plenty of tasty bannocks now, slightly sweet and pretty greasy, maybe will keep me alive awhile longer. Time to leave the familiarity of the conference center that's been a base of operations for the past week, plunder what granola bars and candy I can and then head off into the cold damp, sometime during the day it had stopped snowing. Garfinkles is still closed, Longhorn doesn't have my shoes, I settle next to the fireplace in the Crystal Lounge for a jam session, music sounds pretty decent with a reggae beat mostly. Purge garbage from my purse/bags (long overdue), organize, search online for rideshares headed south for late Mon/early Tues. As the bar closes the last stragglers of the night decide I'm coming with them to continue the jam session at someone's cabin 'close by' in the neighbouring community of Alta Vista. The host is less thrilled that these strangers are descending upon his place, but doesn't object to me staying there. Maybe I just look like a safe person, really I'm quiet and tired. At the cabin I share my bannocks - I think the big Chesapeake dog is most keen on them - and there's a bit of music of songs I dislike anyway. I suppose they must think me very boring as I don't drink cold beer on a cold night, smoke pot, or play music really. Eventually the guests drift off, the host (a down-to-earth Nova Scotian tradesman) tries to chat till 3:30am but we're both tired. I get a couch though the cabin is old and cold, I sleep in my jacket. Comfy enough.
Day 7 - Wake at 7:30-8ish, breakfast is a bannock and an apple. Watch some news on tv with my host, walk back to Whistler Village. Nice walk along the Valley Trail, and only 1km, but damp and cold, with light rain/snow. I'm getting tired of this, it's time to go home, and upon consulting a map I'm not very enthusiastic about walking (hitchhiking, but I must be prepared to walk the whole way if no one stops for me) from Whistler to Vancouver. Head to the library, text a fella in Vancouver to see if he's up for a drive to Whistler, he'll come fetch me after the party tonight. My host from Sat night found my shoes and came to the library to return them! Have tea, candy, bannock. Clean up and head to conference center, wait in foyer with a few others till 6pm. We get a crack at the leftover wine now, and foolishly I follow some ladies that grab an Australian Jacob's Crossing Moscato which is sweet and floral and lovely but throws off my palate for anything I taste after that. Dinner is salad+shepherd's pie+lasagna, filling and warm. I sample the following;
Sage Hill - Okanagan - Gewurztraminer
Chateau Baduc - Bordeaux Blanc - Sauvignon Blanc+Semillion
Matua - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Campo Viejo - Rioja - Crianza
Calliope (Burrowing Owl) - Okanagan - Syrah+Merlot
Gaydd - France - Grenache
Desert Hills - Okanagan - Gamay
Maple Leaf Spirits - Pear Liquor
Matua Paretai Estate - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
900 Grapes - Marlborough - Sauvignon Blanc
Joseph Mellot - Le Tronsec Pouilly-Fume - Sauvignon Blanc
Domaine de Chaberton - BC - Bacchus
Deinhard Piesporter - Mosel - Riesling
Fritz's Gunderloch - Germany - Reisling
Craggy Range - Hawkes' Bay, NZ - Bordeaux blend
I realize that as I select wines based on familiar varietals that I inadvertently choose some BC wines that I could easily get any other time, and I should really use this opportunity to focus on international wines. I absentmindedly yet obsessively organize the bottles on the tables and cooler to help others find what they're looking for, and somehow become the consultant because I'm standing next to the table. The evening degenerates into firing wine corks from empty water bottles. They kick us out at 10pm, I skip the clubby afterparty because I can't taste anything anymore even if there were free drinks. I sit on the steps and for the first time really enjoy the soft snowfall. It's so much nicer when you know you're guaranteed someplace warm.
Aside from the Greyhound ticket to get to Whistler, my total expenditures for the week was ~$3. A lot of it is not exciting, it's observation and resourcefulness, flexible planning, and patience that most wouldn't bother with. And a lot of luck and good people! I'm exhausted, less from lack-of-sleep than from just being in survival-mode for a week. I'm glad I went, and think I'll try again next year, but now am glad for a rest and return to my friends and familiarity.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Halloween follow-up (and what's with all the angels..?)
And with Halloween over I suppose I should've posted this sooner.
My plans to Trick-or-Eat fell through. Some part of me suspected it would. I juggled just-missed-it buses and got to the registration point at UBC a little late, found a bored night watchman who'd said the group left awhile ago - I suspect earlier than the latest posted time for registration. With no one waiting, no one could assign me to my canvasing neighbourhood for charity food collection. I wasn't really surprised, I had limited contact with this organized group and on top of that Mercury was retrograde, so communication+transportation are problematic. *sigh*
Perhaps if I had left my friend's house hours earlier, arrived earlier and milled aimlessly around a campus I don't belong to I'd have been on time. But I didn't, so I wasn't. I don't regret having a nice afternoon just for a potentially nice/productive evening.
Perhaps it was just not meant to be.
Oddly enough I had found a U-pass on the ground at a bus stop only days before. I was sorry for the person who'd lost it, since they'd paid for it and likely needed it for class, but as it expired at month's end it would make my bus travel free, if only for a few days. The space that should've been filled with a name was blank. Coincidence? Or Providence?
Odd when I fluke into good fortune like that, sometimes I swear it's the only thing keeping me alive. I'm consciously aware and thankful for it, constantly. I wondered that day as I kept walking, despite the found bus pass, how time and place are so decisive in our lives. If I hadn't been walking that street on that day and looking down at that moment I would've never found it. What else do I miss looking around or up, while I habitually look down on sidewalks and roads (for found treasure/jewelry/money, as well as not to trip)? What if this was a sign that I should get on the next bus immediately, before a baby grand piano drops on me a few blocks up the road??
And a bus passed me, with corny advertising on the side depicting a lightbulb with angel wings, speaking of their 'afterlife'. Apparently they can be recycled now.
My costume for Halloween was an old standby for a few years now, black angel wings and cheap fuzzy halo. I'd already decided that was optimal for me since I already had it and it's simple and unencumbering for whatever-it-is I'm doing. So what am I doing for Halloween when plans fall through? Stop off at home to consult websites for spontaneous alternative plans, and grumble with a vodka cooler that sorta tasted like cough syrup, 'berry flavour' bleh, which followed me out the door - the cops aren't really going to pester an angel for drinking in public are they?! - as I hurried to the Skytrain station for a sort-of flashmob trainstuffing out to Richmond and back. Why not? I've never done it before and have nothing else to do than get crammed in with strangers in costumes - a few more angels - and I had a U-pass that expires at midnight.
It was hot like a metal concert, just goofy fun. I didn't much feel like the clubby beat or 'dancing' of the afterparty, so I just walked up and down Granville Street and checked out all the clubbers' costumes. Noted were the following; groups of prisoners (both the black+whited striped and orange jumpsuit variety), geishas, zombies of every kind, Bender+Calculon from Futurama, Marvin the Martian, Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man, Pillsbury Doughboy, and... a few more angels. The best group was the troupe of King Arthur and his knights from Monty Python's Holy Grail. The knave carrying the luggage even had speakers on his back playing the musical score, and was clopping coconut shells.
I was hungry but couldn't justify making even a simple dinner at midnight, so I got cheapy pizza on Granville Street. The first time I had cheapy pizza was with my brother when we were in Vancouver *unsupervised!*, I remember being suspicious about the sanitary conditions of the establishment. Ah, if only 32-year-old me could chat with 12-year-old me! Alone in a busy crowd of pizza-eaters quietly minding their own business, I noticed a large tv on the back wall, showing what I gather was an intellectual documentary from History channel. It was on mute and would've made a lot more sense with audio, otherwise it was just stills of famous artwork depicting... angels. They found me even in a seedy pizza joint!
My plans to Trick-or-Eat fell through. Some part of me suspected it would. I juggled just-missed-it buses and got to the registration point at UBC a little late, found a bored night watchman who'd said the group left awhile ago - I suspect earlier than the latest posted time for registration. With no one waiting, no one could assign me to my canvasing neighbourhood for charity food collection. I wasn't really surprised, I had limited contact with this organized group and on top of that Mercury was retrograde, so communication+transportation are problematic. *sigh*
Perhaps if I had left my friend's house hours earlier, arrived earlier and milled aimlessly around a campus I don't belong to I'd have been on time. But I didn't, so I wasn't. I don't regret having a nice afternoon just for a potentially nice/productive evening.
Perhaps it was just not meant to be.
Oddly enough I had found a U-pass on the ground at a bus stop only days before. I was sorry for the person who'd lost it, since they'd paid for it and likely needed it for class, but as it expired at month's end it would make my bus travel free, if only for a few days. The space that should've been filled with a name was blank. Coincidence? Or Providence?
Odd when I fluke into good fortune like that, sometimes I swear it's the only thing keeping me alive. I'm consciously aware and thankful for it, constantly. I wondered that day as I kept walking, despite the found bus pass, how time and place are so decisive in our lives. If I hadn't been walking that street on that day and looking down at that moment I would've never found it. What else do I miss looking around or up, while I habitually look down on sidewalks and roads (for found treasure/jewelry/money, as well as not to trip)? What if this was a sign that I should get on the next bus immediately, before a baby grand piano drops on me a few blocks up the road??
And a bus passed me, with corny advertising on the side depicting a lightbulb with angel wings, speaking of their 'afterlife'. Apparently they can be recycled now.
My costume for Halloween was an old standby for a few years now, black angel wings and cheap fuzzy halo. I'd already decided that was optimal for me since I already had it and it's simple and unencumbering for whatever-it-is I'm doing. So what am I doing for Halloween when plans fall through? Stop off at home to consult websites for spontaneous alternative plans, and grumble with a vodka cooler that sorta tasted like cough syrup, 'berry flavour' bleh, which followed me out the door - the cops aren't really going to pester an angel for drinking in public are they?! - as I hurried to the Skytrain station for a sort-of flashmob trainstuffing out to Richmond and back. Why not? I've never done it before and have nothing else to do than get crammed in with strangers in costumes - a few more angels - and I had a U-pass that expires at midnight.
It was hot like a metal concert, just goofy fun. I didn't much feel like the clubby beat or 'dancing' of the afterparty, so I just walked up and down Granville Street and checked out all the clubbers' costumes. Noted were the following; groups of prisoners (both the black+whited striped and orange jumpsuit variety), geishas, zombies of every kind, Bender+Calculon from Futurama, Marvin the Martian, Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man, Pillsbury Doughboy, and... a few more angels. The best group was the troupe of King Arthur and his knights from Monty Python's Holy Grail. The knave carrying the luggage even had speakers on his back playing the musical score, and was clopping coconut shells.
I was hungry but couldn't justify making even a simple dinner at midnight, so I got cheapy pizza on Granville Street. The first time I had cheapy pizza was with my brother when we were in Vancouver *unsupervised!*, I remember being suspicious about the sanitary conditions of the establishment. Ah, if only 32-year-old me could chat with 12-year-old me! Alone in a busy crowd of pizza-eaters quietly minding their own business, I noticed a large tv on the back wall, showing what I gather was an intellectual documentary from History channel. It was on mute and would've made a lot more sense with audio, otherwise it was just stills of famous artwork depicting... angels. They found me even in a seedy pizza joint!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)