Island Time’s Gonna Getcha

While Peggy indulged in a massage this morning at the Grotto spa, I gave myself the luxury of sleeping in. But not too late as I wanted to check out our ocean view from our 3rd floor balcony. The concierge last night gave us a heads up, saying that it’d be low tide in the a.m. and the ocean would recede so far away from the beach line that we could walk out quite a ways out. And wow, was he ever correct. I never saw the ocean draw so far away from the shoreline before. It was certainly different but I think I would’ve preferred to wake up with the lap of the ocean near, slowly coaxing me awake.

I couldn’t wait to get out for a walk around the forest and down to the beach. I never used to be the outdoorsy, nature type. in fact, U used to dodge summer as much as I can in my early 20s; staying in the house until the night fell and then going out. (I’d joke to my friends that I was allergic to the sun) but all that changed about 5 years ago.

I went to live with my friend and her daughter out in White Rock. Karen’s house is on one acre tract of land, about 40 minutes drive from downtown Vancouver. She had a huge forested backyard, a 2 level house, another detached guest house bungalow and a swimming pool. I have so many fond memories of my time out there, and we were located just 10 minutes to the US border.

I developed the start of a green thumb; a natural consequence of hanging out with Karen in her exquisite garden and flower beds. I was happy to help plant, weed and even took to not minding mowing the lawn. It’s quite zen and therapeutic.

Since then, I’ve been loving being out and about in nature. Oh, you won’t find me going on a 5 hour hike anytime soon and my idea of camping is still a cabin, a lake, a pier going out to the lake and a dinghy I can row out in the middle of the lake. At the bare minimum, an air mattress for sleeping in a tent (or a few thick sleeping bags) and access to public showers/toilets. “Roughing it” is not in my vocabulary, sounding like a princess, be damned.

So I did some exploring while waiting for Peggy to return. It was great – the fresh air, the smell of the ocean, the sunny skies and best of all, no bugs. I remember all those summers that my friends would haul out the citronella coils and incense and Avon’s Skin So Soft lotion for me because I am the biggest mosquito magnet. Which partly explains why I hated being out in nature when I was younger.

Life on Vancouver Island, or any island is well, idyllic. Karen, who’s originally from the island, told me the saying about the type of people that lives there. “The newly wed or the nearly dead”. Time seems to move slower, people not in such a hurry and so laid back that they’re almost horizontal.

Last night we asked for the latest check out time, so we can pack as much in today as we can. We checked out at 130-ish as we called for a shuttle to get us to the ferry in time for the 315pm departure. Oodles of time. Or so we thought.

The shuttle would come pick us up in front of the main office building. And so we waited. We followed up a couple of times and was advised the driver was a few minutes away. After several minutes of waiting, dispatch called us back and said the driver would not be able to make it as he’s stuck in traffic. And that they can send someone else out but it would be another half hour. I believe that’s code for the driver went to pick up another fare and ditched us instead.

There’s no denying that we would not make that 315pm ferry and we would be looking at the awful and very real probability of catching the 545pm ferry instead. The cabbie we called to take us confirmed the whole running on island time mentality. You’d call to make an appointment with a plumber for Thursday and he may show up by Friday. That’s worse than running on “Asian time”. you know, when you say dinner is at 7pm and everyone shows up between 730pm-800pm.

It’s funny how the delay and inconvenience in trying to get home was no longer the “if we can’t beat ’em, join ’em” attitude, but rather it was the “How does anything ever get done around here?” sentiment instead. Because of the AWOL shuttle driver and us not being able to make alternate arrangements in time, we missed the ferry by 7 minutes. Ack!

(we were the first ones at the ferry terminal for the 545pm sailing)

This meant that we waited at the ferry terminal’s cafe for 2.5 hours until the next sailing. But hey, the waiting gave me the gift of time, as I blew through a good chunk of my book. Course we felt like we were in purgatory the whole day since we were ready to leave at 130pm and did not get back into Vancouver until 8pm.

By the time we finally docked, Peggy and I were just beat. It was funny that us big time city slickers were just exhausted. From the stir crazy, slow pace of island life.

The irony is not lost on me. I’m tiredly chuckling inside my head right now, with no further plans for the weekend than just rotting on the couch.