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.

Whistler

It's vaguely sacrilegious that we've lived in Vancouver for quite a while but have never been to Whistler.  The site of much of the action of the 2010 Winter Olympics, it is the skiing destination of these parts, and by far the biggest snow-based sport place in North America.  It was originally called "London Mountain" because of all the fog and cloud, but was renamed for all the whistling marmots that live around there "to help make it more marketable as a resort."  Hmm.

Whatever it's called, it's a pretty stunning place with two gigantic mountains towering over the town offering 33km² of skiing.  The snowfall hasn't been too kind this year, but there was still plenty on the higher slopes.  If only we knew how to ski!  Anyway, we took a sightseeing tour up to the stop, and tried not to look out of place while every other person carried their winter equipment around with them.

The highlight, if that's the word, was the "Peak 2 Peak" gondola, which is the world's longest and highest cable car.  Yes, for some reason we decided to dangle across 1.9 miles of sky supported only by a 56mm cable.  Pete was, of course, entranced, and insisted on going back and forth as many times as he could on our day pass.  I left Hannah to deal with that one - the glass-bottomed cars were particularly fun.

Chilling out at the top of the mountain was pretty great, actually.  You sort of absorb all the physical activity going on around you, so by the time you come down you're ready for the apres ski, which you've thoroughly earned.  Luckily our holiday apartment had a hot tub, and Ellen had arrived in Canada with a bottle of English gin in her luggage.  I could get used to winter sports.

 

 

Megan, rather taken with the sporty "free upgrade" we got from the car hire place.

 

 

Hand-in-hand at Porteau Cove park on the way up the Sea-to-Sky highway.

 

 

Shannon Falls, just a bit further on.

 

 

At Whistler!

 

 

 

Lift pass.

 

 

Standing out amongst people who were going up a ski mountain to actually ski.

 

 

Finally arriving at the snow.

 

 

And it was flipping cold, I can tell you.

 

 

Actual skiing taking place.

 

 

Meg wraps up warm in her home knits.

 

 

Peak 2 Peak, with very little holding you up in-between.

 

 

Don't look down.

 

 

Snowball fight!

 

 

Me and Meg find our skill level.

 

 

A faintly terrifying Easter bunny was roaming around at the top.

 

 

Pete - far more impressed by the mechanical workings of the gondola than the spiritual experience of being on a snowy mountaintop.  So an engineer rather than a theologian.

 

 

Apres.

Happy returns

Ellen and Megan are back!  After spending Christmas in the warmer climes of the Spanish islands they've returned to us for Easter.  With them came torrential rainfall and a three-hour delay out of Heathrow, but they made it safe and sound.

I always like it when Megan comes - I get to satisfy my more girly desires, like tap-dancing, synchronized swimming, and Lego Friends, things that Pete, despite my best efforts, still isn't too enthused by.  Ellen also brought me a bottle of duty-free Baileys, purely for medicinal purposes, you understand.

Meg and Pete are sharing a room this time, but he was asleep when she arrived.  "Do you think he'll be alright?" a worried Hannah asked.  "He can be a bit shy, and he's going to wake up and just find her there..."  Her concerns were proved unfounded when, at 5am, I was woken by much giggling and loud conversations about the taxis outside the window.  I sternly ordered them both into bed until sunrise, and took a wee dram of Baileys to help me back to sleep.

 

 

Back in Vancouver, back on the coffee and cinnamon buns.

 

 

Lego, early in the morning.

 

 

Everybody's entertained, so all good.

 

I decided to see what you can really achieve with Lego Friends.  Spaceship!  With horse attachment.

Roasterewery

How can you improve a coffee roastery?  Add beer!  How can you improve a brewery?  Add a coffee shop!  Being the fine city that Vancouver is, someone already realised this and created 33 Acres, a coffee shop attached to a brewery (or vice versa, depending on your vice of choice).  Best of all they allow kids, so Pete and I met Andrew and Jacob there for our recurrent Friday adventure.

The lady who opened up at 9am did seem a little surprised to find two adults with toddlers waiting outside the brewery door.  'The first step to addressing a problem is admitting you have one,' her eyes seemed to be saying, but we were allowed in.

The coffee shop is fabulous and exceedingly childproof, being mostly made of concrete.  There's a bit too much white wood around so crayons were left in their nappy bags, but the boys didn't mind as there was plenty of space to run around, a large window to blow raspberries on, and a car garage across the street where people walked under cars that were in the air!  Amazing.  Also, as this isn't Vegas, we were the only people in the bar at 9am and could disturb no one.

All in all, a marvelous outing.  I sat back and reflected on how easy childcare is as I ordered my third cappuccino, pint of Belgium Tripel, and tequila chaser.

 

 

That's what it's all about.

 

 

And this too.

 

 

So which one would you like?

 

 

Pete samples from their non-alcoholic and non-caffeinated range.  You're such a killjoy, dad.

 

 

The food was pretty good too - you need something to soak up the alcohol.

 

 

Beer, coffee, & snacks.  And babies.  Perfect!