Cold Feet & Starbucks Heaven
From the very beginning, Canada was fantastic. The moment Courtney turned her car into the carpark of Victoria’s Regent Hotel (the very hotel her father is, fortuitously, the manager of) the tone and indeed the bar for the rest of the trip, was set. Chilled champagne awaited the weary and seasick travellers, in the penthouse suite (known on the street as Room 606) and it was joined by one of my Top 5 purchases thus far, my 1 litre bottle of Baileys for $20 purchased duty free on board the clipper. To celebrate Court’s birthday that had just passed, and Natty P’s, that was impending, we went to the bar at the top of the hotel her father’s partner is, fortuitously, the manager of, and drank cocktails looking out over the sweet city of Victoria.
And now the tone is set, I get lazy. In an effort to condense the week that was Victoria, Vancouver and Whistler, I will resort to sub-headings, every lazy writer’s best friend.
Most Inappropriate Footwear Moment
Goes to the lowest point of the trip, when Dee, NP and myself could all be spied in an assortment of thongs, going up the bizarre flying chair that has some scary name like Excelerator, to the top of Blackcomb mountain. Someone really should build a little platform sight-see-ers can hop off onto, instead of leaping off aforementioned flying chair onto snow with absolutely no foot respite in sight. Yes we were pointed at, yes there was some snickering and yes there were many, many pitying looks.
Most Proactive Homeless Person
Goes to Normal the Doorman (self coined titled) who cleverly situates himself at the cab rank outside a Vancouver bar, and opens the doors for people with a cheerful and toothless ‘Hi, I’m Norman the Doorman at your service’ … Dee panicked and shut the door in his face, but did this impinge on his sunny service when she reopened the door to get out? No. Norman the Doorman rather unwillingly shares his territory with the lady who picks flowers from a nearby flower bed and sells them to people Norman the Doorman has already bailed up, and neither of these two tolerate Hernia Lady, whose opening gambit consists of appearing at your side, bent at a right angle, and announcing her hernia as one might announce their possession of a hat.
Best Bars/Restaurants
Vista Bar, Victoria
Senefa – Vancouver … if it’s a quiet night and your group is majoritively female, they waive the minimum spend of $500 for a bed, and you can spend hours lounging on Middle Eastern inspired beds, eating and drinking Middle Eastern inspired cuisine. Best drink = Marrakesh Mint
Joey’s Tomatoes, Vancouver … drink the Lemon Drop and eat everything on the menu
Most Insane and Possibly Not Real View
Anywhere you happen to turn when situated in Whistler. The place leaves you breathless about 10 times a minute – it is absolutely not possible to see any ugliness anywhere, at any time.
Canada’s Version of Tracks …
Garfinkels, where the average age is 19, save for a particularly sad bachelor’s party and … ourselves
The Best Place to Take Stock of Canada’s Unfair and Surely Under-Appreciated (by the locals) Beauty …
The Victoria – Vancouver ferry
The Time Liv Almost Got Into a Bar Brawl (I know, practically unheard of)
Plan B, Victoria. El Rancho meets Empire (if you can imagine) in this Victoria hotspot where all the youths go of a Saturday night. Imagine, then, you are on the dance floor, when two annoyingly drunk girls start, for some unbeknown reason, bumping violently into your group, giggling horsily. When your friend asks them politely to stop, imagine that one smiles smugly, gives her the finger and says calmly ‘fuck you’. Imagine then, that they continue to bump into you with great relish. The only thing left to do is to shove the both of them so their spindly bodies fly across the dance floor and say ‘could you get the fuck away from us.’ When you outweight them by a good 20 kgs, chances are this is the most effective method.
Best Word to Say To Canadian/American Bartenders Because They Find it Endearing
Water
Best Drink
Pear cider
The Time Dee Narrowly Averted a Mugging
At the pizza place everyone flocks to post Plan B. Strolling down the street, Dee’s ears pricked up as she passed a suspicious looking pair, loitering near the pizzera, and overheard ‘here come some rich girls, lets get them.’ The more sentimental one said, after a moment’s consideration ‘they look like they’ve made an effort, leave them’, although this didn’t stop the meaner one following Dee and NP into the pizza shop and lingering behind them for a few minutes. The lesson is, girls, always make an effort when going out. Muggers appreciate it, if no one else does.
Worst BBQ-ing Effort
Goes to NP who, with her heart in the right place, charred the hotdogs and in doing so, the name of all Australians … it’s a good thing there just happened to be a chef at the bbq who stepped in, politely ushering the three Australians into the role of observer, not so much bbq-er … although, why the hell I was ever anywhere near the bbq is another question entirely.
***
And so we move to Seattle. Following another bout of the Clipper and all the tantalising dances with nausea that come with it, we arrived in rainy downtown Seattle, to be met by our gracious host, Tad. The following day dawned bright and sunny, and Tad took us to Pike Market Place, where men throw fish, people eat the best donuts in the world, and mount a giant pig statue, all simultaneously. It is also opposite the first Starbucks ever, and one would have to be insane to be in Seattle and actually pass up the opportunity of supping coffee brewed at such a historical site.
For the rest of our stay in Seattle, crawled all over the massive troll used in the film Ten Things I Hate About You, ate lunch overlooking part of the harbour, went up the Space Needle and took a memorable drive through the picturesque campus of the University of Washington – where Tad pointed out the building of Ted Bundy’s old dorm (apparently no one is allowed to know where it actually is) and took great pains to explain the delicate ins and outs of fraternities and sororities. As we drove down Greek Row, he could be heard to utter such gems as ‘oh that’s Alpha Beta, you go there if you’re not hot and the hot sorority rejected you… there is Alpha Beta Gamma Kappa Gamma, they’re famous for their singing …’
Best Summation …
Liv: ‘to spot at American on an Australian campus, all you have to do is look for thick flip flops, impossibly short shorts, an abundance of fake tan and a faceful of make up, inappropriately thick for tutorials/lectures.’
Tad: ‘to spot an Australian on an American campus, look for skinny jeans, a belt worn over the blouse and a big pair of sunglasses.’
As much as I love the US of A, I’ll take Australia anyday.