The wet coast

We're just back from a week or so on the west coast of British Columbia, checking in on friends and relatives in preparation for our next expedition to Turkey and environs.

It's not fair to call it the "wet coast" really. The weather was almost perfect most of the time. But BC has had such a series of fierce storms in the last few months that I felt we were unusually blessed.

We had tons of people to catch up on, starting with daughter Rachel and her beloved Phil. They're good to hang out with, even if they are Warcraft freaks. Fortunately Rachel has now gone off on a two-month silent retreat, so maybe she'll be able to kick the habit while she's there. I don't even dare look at the site in case I get hooked, too.

We stayed at the Bayshore Inn down on the harbour so we could catch a seaplane flight to Saltspring Island the next morning. The plane leaves from right in front of the hotel! The Bayshore is nothing special, but the seaplane sure is, and so was the evening view from our window.

We flew alongside Stanley Park. I'd expected to see a lot of damage to this priceless Vancouver treasure from windstorms in November and December - the TV news made it look like the entire park was devastated - but the damage seemed confined to the seaward edge and along the road from Lion's Gate Bridge to the city. Bad enough, but there are still lots of trees.

Saltspring Island was quite lovely, as usual, and it was good to check in again with our friends the Weisners. We've known Ron and Cathy since the summer of 1967, when the two Rons were Ontario Hydro trainees. We still find we can reconnect without much trouble no matter how long it's been since we saw each other last.

We caught up with our friends Ruth and Beth the day after they moved into a retirement home. They're among the first women ordained priests in the Anglican Church of Canada. I think of Ruth as my godmother in the priesthood - I think I thought I could be as holy a person as she is if I was ordained, too (vain hope.) She's quite frail now, but Beth's faithful love brings joy to her life.



Then up to Nanaimo to check on "the girls" - Begüm and Mallory, who share an apartment as they go to Malaspina University College. They walked us through some lovely scenery and shared their apartment with us. It's good to have friends who are under 40!


We headed back to the mainland and up to the Sunshine Coast to say hello to my cousin Ardith and her partner Bill. Checked in by phone with our cousin Sandra - the three of us were born within a year of each other - and made a date to see her in the fall. Visited my father's sister Audrey and her husband Tammy, and met cousin Bob, whom I've seen once before at most! It's never too late to discover family.


Finally back to Vancouver and Aunt Elsie, the youngest of my Grant aunts, who is still lovely, active and creative in her late 80s. I don't think she will ever get old; she refuses to grouch about the way the world is going to hell or how her body is falling apart (it isn't as far as I can tell).

One last set of old friends that evening: Brian, who was Ron's best man, and his family at their horse farm in Surrey. More people with whom we don't feel strange whether it's days or years since the last visit. I wish we'd kept in touch with more of the old gang. Maybe we'll work harder at that when we get back.

It was good to see all these dear people, but the highlight of the trip was the last night when we collected another performance of Mozart's Magic Flute. There's never been a performance like it, although 10 years ago or so I sang in the chorus of one in Durham, Ont. that tried to do the same thing. The Vancouver Opera Company worked for three years with First Nations people to develop this production set in the BC forest. The costumes of Sarastro and his friends were West Coast native; the scenery was rocks and trees (well, papier mache and cloth streamers, but they worked), and the libretto was freshly and very well translated using some words from the language of the Musqueam people. We were entranced. This is the third Magic Flute we've seen in a year - Vienna and Banff were the other ones - and it's impossible for me to say which was the best. The singing was better in Vienna, but the production was stodgy compared to the other two. I'd have liked the Queen of the Night and Sarastro to have been more accurate in their pitches, but the spirit of this production made everything else irrelevant. Wow! This site says a bit more about it.

The beginning of March we're bound back to Turkey via Portugal and Spain. You'll hear from us then, if not before.