There’s nothing in the world like the sight of your own dear home after you’ve been away from it for a long time.
Weeds and all.
As some of you already know, Tool Man and myself spent a week and a half touring this summer while I was on holidays. It’s been over two decades since we’ve taken an actual planned “vacation” that was off the beaten track of our regular familial visits.
Actually, we incorporated those as well in a single trip of genius planning (and well-positioned family members).
Greece would have been very nice to visit. Japan or the British Isles… Australia…
No, we kept to beautiful British Columbia and joined a hoard of happy tourists who were seeing it for the first time.
After travelling to Fort St. John and then to Terrace, we continued to Prince Rupert – where it actually rained! No kidding, my fourth visit to Rupert and it wasn’t beautiful and sunny. So it was beautiful and rainy, the fish and chips are worth it!
And we had to catch the ferry early the next morning. Like, EARLY! Like, be awake and at the terminal at 5 am. I mean, the guy going car to car checking for reservations had to use a flashlight, for crying out loud. That’s how early.
But seeing the sun rise and set while we sailed down the Inside Passage added to the beautiful 15-hour voyage.
There seemed to be a large Scandinavian contingent aboard, all talking excitedly among themselves and clicking their cameras at anything that moved in the water.
They wanted to see a whale so badly. About an hour into the trip, one lady was sure she saw a whale in the swelling waves outside the window. She hesitantly but excitedly announced “whale!”, which drew about 20 people and all eyes in her direction. No whale.
But there were, later. Fleeting glimpses of fins and tails. And plenty more than that to see, especially if you’re a fan of ocean, trees, rocks and blue sky. And of those, I never get tired.
But 12 days away from home and I was missing my kitties and my own comfortable bed. It was nice to be home. And spend the rest of my holidays pulling an alarming forest of weeds out of my vegetable garden.
Wendy Coomber is the editor of the Ashcroft-Cache Creek Journal