The short version:
Labour Day weekend camping trip duration: 16 hours. 29 including driving. Who knew Kelowna had a rush hour?
The slightly longer version:
This year we went camping twice. The first time was the May long weekend. Over that four-day period, we learned that we DO know how to construct a shelter from plastic sheeting and shoelaces and that our tent is pretty waterproof. We also learned that campstoves with plastic hoses are not as good as those with metal. We had a spectacular campsite overlooking the lovely and talented Green River. It was a very nice time except for the stunning volume of flies in the pit toilet.
June, July and August were very hot in BC. Good camping weather. But in June, July and August, we had to work and stay in town. Except for when we got to go to Nanaimo and sleep in a tent in the backyard, but that doesn’t….really….count?
So there it was, looming in front of me – the last long weekend of the summer. And for the last couple of weeks, it has been not hot. It has been raining. I have been saying to people, Ha! I hope it does not RAIN on our CAMPING again! And they have said No, it will not! How could it? I guess they said this with their fingers crossed, because after an ominously cloudy and dark drive across BC on Friday, we arrived at Blanket Creek Provincial Park and we stepped out of the car and it did, immediately, start raining. Like a little welcome shower.
A short 30 minutes later, when we were huddled around our tenacious little fire, sucking on beer and eating hastily prepared hot dogs, Saint Aardvark uttered the fateful words that would echo in my head each time I woke in the night to the startle and splat of rain on the tent fly: “I wonder how much the motels in Revelstoke cost. No, no no, we won’t be so pouxie (pron. Puh-ksie). Nevermind.”
Saturday was a misty, moisty morning. We made bacon and eggs and ate faster than the squirrels could scold us; then cleaned up real quick-like so the bears wouldn’t know whether it really had been bacon or just a bacon fantasy. By the light of day, it was apparent that we were in a campsite just like every other BC campsite. Trees and mist and maybe mountains behind the mist…who could tell? Oh, and this place had one set of flush toilets to balance out the pits. I’m pretty sure there were ticks on the toilets in the pits but I have no way to confirm this.
Activity: Saying “ticks on the toilets in the pits” is rhythmic and fun. Try it!
We found a path to a waterfall and hiked it. It took four minutes, not five, as the park website had suggested. The waterfall was pretty, as waterfalls tend to be, but it was not as big as Nairn Falls. I couldn’t help but compare the two waterfalls, as well as take a moment to resent the fact that this park had fewer pieces of flair than our last campsite AND we had driven twice, no – three times as far for the privilege.
Oh, plus, SA was getting a cold.
We drove to Revelstoke, because the Revelstoke website had told me there was a farmer’s market on Saturday mornings. I thought perhaps we could buy some corn that we would barbecue later, when the sun came out. But first it rained really, really hard, so we went for coffee. When the rain didn’t stop, we went to the farmer’s market in the rain.
The farmer’s market was one block long and featured mustards, jellies, homemade soaps and jewellery. I bought a bracelet made of chainmail from two lovely, soggy people whose first farmer’s market it was. Then we explored downtown a little and found a new bookstore AND a used bookstore. I got a copy of “The English Patient” by Michael Can-I-Have-Your-Babies Ondaatje, NEW for $5.99. Imagine my sinking heart when I found the used copy down the street. Then imagine my delight when the used copy was priced at $8.99. Bwahahahaha! I also bought “Woman Hating” by Andrea Dworkin, used for $6.
We found a place called the Regent Inn, on 1st Street. It is right downtown, in the thick of things. The clouds stayed in place to help us make and justify our decision: we would cease camping and start motelling.
Back at the campsite, we had forgotten to put our chairs away so they were puddled with water. The tent was holding up admirably, though, all glistening with raindrops and leaves. The sky poured rain while we dissembled the tent, folded our many blankets, stuffed it all in the trunk and drove the 23 km back to Revelstoke to our new and fabulous indoor vacation.
Downstairs there was The River City Pub, where, after dinner at “Emo’s,” we drank much of a beer called Mt. Begbie Powerhouse Pale Ale. A less accurately named beer was never drunk by me. But it was better than drinking Budweiser, so we drank much of it to encourage the local beer makers.
The Regent includes in its room rate a continental breakfast. The last time SA and I had continental breakfast in a motel was in an EconoLodge in Calgary. Said breakfast was a juice box and a shrunken fruit danish in a plastic packet, such as you would buy in desperation from a gas station on your way to your crappy retail job with a devilish hangover. We weren’t holding out much hope for the breakfast. But it turns out that The Regent puts the Zing in “continental ZING! breakfast.” Bagels, english muffins, toast, croissants, muffins, fruit, hard boiled eggs, juice (3 kinds!), coffee, tea and a vast assortment of condiments. And you could just eat it, for as long as you wanted.
Then we drove to Kelowna, which was even warmer than the spot in my heart where continental breakfast lives. There was even sun and then a sunset. We did not stay at The Grand, Kelowna’s 25 acre Resort on Lake Okanagan. But we did ask how much it cost.
For us, the price was $209 per night. I’m pretty sure she would have given us a better rate if we had, hm, let’s see, gone away and never crossed the threshold of her posh hotel ever again. Hey, lady. Your hotel is pink. It’s not so posh.
Instead, we stayed at the Royal Anne Hotel, with “O’Flannagan’s Pub – Blarney and Bubbles” in the basement. Unfortunately neither of us felt strong enough to tackle that much geniune Irishness, but we did find a cool coffee shop that served coffee that was Not Terrible. We were so excited, we returned in the morning for more Not Terrible coffee.
These are some of the things I did eat that weren’t as challenging as
(when you shell a hard-boiled egg, should you be able to do it without smashing the egg against the table? Yes, you should. And when you finally get in, past the shell, should the membrane around the egg be so tough as to resemble the shell itself? No, it should not.)
the hard boiled egg at the Royal Anne Hotel ‘s version of continental breakfast:
– A sandwich with TWO KINDS of processed cheese, on fake sourdough bread, washed down by the first of many terrible cups of coffee. (Chaps Restaurant, Princeton)
– A junior soft taco. (Taco Time, Vernon)
– Salt and pepper chips that were not as gross as I thought they would be. (Lays, Zellers, Vernon)
– Hot buttered noodles.(Emo’s Restaurant, Revelstoke)
– A big steak and a baked potato.(The Keg, Kelowna)
– Glossettes raisins.(Gas station, Merritt)
– Caramilk bar.(Zellers, Vernon)
It was all good.