Fruity, spicy, and easy on the nose

Just when you think Canada offers you everything - maple syrup, universal healthcare, Celine Dion - it surprises you by offering even more: a wine region.  Yes, a few hours north-east of Vancouver is the Okanagan Valley, where grapes dangle from countless vines then get turned into booze, bottled, and sent around the world.

The Davieses bundled into a seven-seater hire car and off we set, over mountains where we were snowed upon, past Canada's only desert, and finally down into the lush valley of vineyards.  We stopped off at our first winery before buying food or going to our holiday cottage, because that's how we do things in this family.  No guesses for who the designated driver was.

We've been here a few days now and the area is rather fabulous.  We're staying on the edge of a huge lake surrounded by vineyards, and the daily list of tastings does much to calm Grandpa's nerves on the slightly treacherous winding roads.  When the sun comes out it's like Italy!  When it rains, when it's free to taste, and when everyone's just so damn friendly, it's definitely Canada.

Up and over the mountains.  That's real snow up there, and it fell on us as we drove.

Emily made the best of it.

That's a sign we like to see.

Before shelter and food: wine.

As the non-drinking family member, Pete demanded compensation in other ways.

He was quite interested in distilling, though.

Start with the Riesling or the Gewurtz?  Tricky questions.

One day son, all this will be yours.  If you buy a vineyard.

Contemplating the fantastic view.

But what's a big, flat lake for other than to skim stones across?

Proving that I'm just a chip off the old block.  We have high hopes for Pete.

More view contemplation.



And some fishing.

Right!  Back to the booze at Mission Hill Winery.

The designated driver, who is also the babysitter when someone is still sleeping when we get to the winery, returns.

Another view, just to illustrate how utterly amazing it is around here.

Emily's had a few...

...so decides to have a few more.

Grandma and Pete enjoy the sculptures.

Chateau le Davies.

Family value pack

Why get your relatives to visit in dribs and drabs when you can get them all in at once?  Here at Davies Travel International we're all about the bulk buy discount, so arranged for Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunty Emily to arrive together.

Pete, as you may imagine, is somewhat beside himself with excitement, with an additional three people to do his bidding!  It will be a shock to all if we hear Grandma use the word "no" at any point...

Aunty Emily does the morning shift.

Grandpa educates.



But who does the heavy lifting?

We're riding along on the crest of a wave

It was time for Pete to undergo one of the most important rites of passage - his first night under canvas!  The Cub Scouts made me the man I am today due to many a camping trip, and it never did me any harm, apart from now only being able to go to the toilet outside, and my morbid fear of fire, and insisting on calling Hannah "Brown Owl" in private.  Hannah was famously drummed out of the Brownies for laughing too much while country dancing.  It's true!

All of which is to say: Pete was always going to take to backwoodsmanship like a bear to the forest.  Indeed, he was extremely excited by the prospect of actually sleeping in a tent rather than just playing in the kid's one we got for half price in Ikea.  The fact that we were going to go on a ferry to get to the campsite almost made him explode with expectation.

We caught the boat from Horseshoe Bay over to the Sunshine Coast, and it was well-named, for this weekend at least.  Temperatures soared into the high-teens and many locals wandered around in a daze, it still being officially winter here.  Our campsite was in Sechelt, a short drive from the port, and we stopped on the way for fish and chips.  We weren't going to rough it too much.

The campground was large, spotless, and impressive, and shockingly there was only one other tent there.  The owner did look slightly surprised when we knocked on her locked office door, but there was a handful of RVs to keep us company.  I imagine they turn the water supply on in the summer, and we were warned that the bears hadn't hibernated this year but that they rarely come into the campground.  Canadian bears - so much more polite than their American counterparts.

In the end the whole thing was a massive success, with Pete sleeping through the night, no bear encounters (a bit of a disappointment to some), a tasty al fresco dinner and breakfast, beach trips, and then lunch in a café on the way home.  Far more luxurious than when I was a Cub but there we go.  I also don't remember aching quite so much after sleeping on the ground back then.  Could I be getting too old for this?  That's not a good thought when Father and Son Camp isn't for a good few years yet.  Time to start taking that cod liver oil.

 

 

How much do we need for one night's camping?  Roughly the same as for a week, actually.

 

 

Did we remember to pack the baby?

 

 

How Hannah likes every camping trip to begin.

 

 

Fun on the ferry.

 

 

How Pete likes every camping trip to begin.

 

 

The 'Tent Mahal' is up again.  Pete got the east wing, we took the west.

 

 

One day, this will look as dated as all those family camping holidays to France...

 

 

Down on the beach.

 

 

Pete is ready for bed and/or boxing.

 

 

It's so much fun to wake up outdoors!

 

 

Possibly false advertising.

 

  

Leave only footprints, take only memories.  And the baby you arrived with.

 

 

Down on the Sunshine Coast.

 

 

First camping trip, and first kite flying!  Those power lines were a lot further away than they look, honest.

 

 

I'm #1 so why try harder?

 

Back on board, and sailing away from a rather fabulous weekend.

Adieu

The time came to wave Ellen and Megan goodbye.  This is terrible for several reasons.  First, next time they come to see us we won't be in Vancouver, and there is so much still to do around here.  Second, who's going to keep Pete entertained now?  Especially in that awkward 5am - 6.30am timeslot when I'm, you know, sleeping.  Third, Megan took all her Lego Friends kits with her when she left.

It was wonderful to see them, and most of the British imports that came with them have already been consumed.  Especially the Hendricks gin, which didn't even last a full week.  The only consolation is the Baileys that Ellen, against her better judgement, brought me.  Hey - just because it's marketed to old ladies doesn't mean that only old ladies should drink it!

Goodbye E&M, and see you in DC ASAP.

Last meal out, at the Cactus Club Café, so we made sure it was a large one.

Science vs. Religion. Again.

I take my responsibilities as a Godparent seriously, no more so than when it comes to education, and so part of Meg's trip to Vancouver was always going to include Science World.  I wanted her to learn that not everyone believes the same things, and that some don't even realise that angels, magic, pixies, or some combination of the three, are the true cause of all observable phenomena.

As usual, I was disappointed that my extensive letter writing program to Science World's director still fails to bear fruit.  There is no mention in the biology section of the four humours that govern human temprament or, indeed, the miasmatic theory of disease.  I couldn't find any references anywhere to the luminiferous aether or the fact that the earth is hollow.  Missing sections on alchemy, numerology, and phrenology are still a serious omission.  We watched a show about fire that didn't even mention phlogiston.

Not that Pete or Megan were bothered, running around together like crazy things and telling me to "stop embarrassing us".  But I didn't let it get to me, because Saturn is currently ascending in my sixth house and it's the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, so all good.

 

 

Daddy, I want a big sister.

 

 

What's holding the beach ball up in the air?  Exactly.

 

 

Fun with parachute launching.

 

 

Actually Pete, become an engineer.  It pays well.

 

 

Children increase arithmetically, trouble increases exponentially.

 

 

Meg, ballerina and gymnast (and still young) did a lot better at this than me.

 

 

Teamwork...on a display that demonstrates the length of human intestines.  Ew.

 

 

Megan climbs, counteracting a force described as "gravity".

 

This is what science should stick to - making pretty things, like fireworks and sherbet.  Leave the heavy lifting to the theologians.

Mrs Davies Goes To Washington

Good news and bad news.  The good bit is that our North American adventure continues: Hannah has just landed her latest Chevron posting in their prestigious Washington DC office!  She'll be making sure that billion-dollar multinational oil companies, a sector criminally underrepresented in US politics, get their voices of reason and balance heard within the halls of power.

She tells me she won't actually be doing the lobbying, just supporting it ("I didn't shoot the guy, I just loaded the gun and handed it to the killer...") but it is an amazing opportunity in a fantastic city.  I've heard the East Coast is a little different from the West; "business casual" doesn't mean flip-flops and shorts, and there's no problem with work/life balance because no one has the time to have a life.  It turns out that The West Wing and House of Cards are actually documentaries!

The sad bit is, of course, that we'll be moving away from Vancouver.  We always knew we were here temporarily, but the longer we stayed the further off we hoped temporarily would become.  This city, mostly because of the people we've met, immediately felt like home.

We have a couple of months before we'll be back over the other side of the 49th parallel, where words like "water" and "Peter" must again be pronounced with a "d" in the middle.  Joy!  Still, no one in Canada has ever said "I just love your accent" because there are too bloody many Brits here already.

On a side note, Pete's UK birth certificate lists the British Consulate in DC as his place of birth, as is the case for all the Queen's subjects who have the audacity to be delivered in the American colonies.  It'll be nice for him to finally see where he was born.

 

 

It's going to happen...!

Ice ice baby

It's unhealthy to have too many expectations of your children, so I'm always mindful with Pete - apart from top academic grades, being fluent in multiple languages, prodigy-level expertise at piano and voice, and representing England at cricket and Wales at rugby, I leave him free to choose his own path (as soon as he finishes his degree in theology from St. John's College, Durham).

There is, however, one non-negotiable.  Pete's grandfather and namesake is an ice skater, who still competes at international level.  Yes, it's true.  If you wondered where I got my sporting prowess and Olympian physique from, now you know.  So Pete Jr. was always destined to get onto the ice, and the rink at Olympic Park in Whistler was as good a place as any to start.  Mainly because it's free.

I didn't want to push too hard, so Pete started on the double-blades designed for toddlers.  He got a nice crash helmet as well and, being Canada, there was a hockey rink for those less inclined to practice their triple-Salchows and double-toe-loops.  Dancing, however, did seem to be Pete's thing - his feet didn't stop moving for a second, despite my constant instructions to him to bend his knees and find his balance.  Perhaps his twinkle toes will see him becoming a footballer in the Cristiano Ronaldo mold, although I'm aiming higher than that of course.

Eventually the skates were ditched in favour of walking around on the ice, which was better for parental backs if not for Pete's sporting development.  Still, if he prefers an ice activity that involves wearing shoes rather than skates there's always Canada's second sport: curling.

 

 

Slip sliding away.

 

 

Meg, a ballerina and gymnast, took to it like a duck to (frozen) water.

 

 

Dance, baby, dance.

 

 

Ellen takes the weight off.

 

 

Practicing slap shots.

 

 

On to something else frozen but tastier: ice cream.

 

 

After that it was time for apres skate.

 

 

And then it was all over!  We sauntered down the Sea-to-Sky and back to Vancouver via numerous viewpoints given how gorgeous the day turned out.

 

 

There's our family Christmas card right there.