Category: Trips

Cover photo by Allan, used under Creative Commons license

In which I use a brief interlude between flights to contemplate subtle changes in how we use our spare time

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Spring is usually a pretty predictable time for us. The sun comes out and so do we: we drive down to Niagara once or twice, we buy a Hot Docs festival pass and invade the patio at the Victory, we clean off our balcony, etc. But this spring? There’s been nothing predictable about this spring.

We were supposed to go to Miami, but we bailed on that when last week’s trip to Berlin and next week’s trip to Turkey came up. We had to abandon an almost-planned trip to Halifax this weekend for the Nova Scotia craft beer festival. We didn’t even buy a Hot Docs pass, marking the first time in…I don’t know, maybe a dozen years that we haven’t seen at least one documentary. We haven’t been to Niagara at all. Our balcony still looks winterized (though, in truth, winter practically just ended) as we haven’t had time to set it up, even on weekends.

I’m not complaining, mind you. I like being busy, and I’ve been lucky that travel and change has found its way into our lives these days, but I do rather miss a few of these things.

Perhaps I should go sit on the balcony now rather than write a blog post.

[UPDATE: shortly after this we walked to Bier Markt, drank some wheat beer, then ate some gelato and sat in St. James Park. So that’s more like it.]

.:.

Cover photo by Allan, used under Creative Commons license

90 hours in Berlin

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

OK, I’m very tired and very behind on a number of other things, so this Berlin trip summary is going to be a brief one.

TUESDAY

We left home at decent time, but an accident on the Gardiner screwed us over. Everything slowed to crawl, and taking this one back road for half mile took half an hour. We finally got to airport at 5:25 and ran up to check in at 5:30. They told us flight had closed at 5:20. Nellie nearly burst into tears.

The agent called and got them to re-open it, but told us we’d have to run. So run we did. We ran all the way to the end of Terminal 1, then through security, then almost all the way down the giant walkway. I thought we might actually make it, when I suddenly realized I was missing my boarding pass. I sent Nellie on to the gate and ran all the way back to security, saw my pass sitting there (thank goodness!), and then ran all the way back to the gates. I’d probably covered about 2km in all by this point. I ran up to the gate, exhausted and sweaty, and found out…that it was delayed. So we/I just ran everywhere like chumps for nothing.

To cool/calm down we went to a nearby bar for a drink. It took a while for Nellie’s sparkling and my Keg-sized Sauvignon Blanc to arrive, and when it did I all but chugged mine. We soon boarded, but there was another delay while we waited for the second pilot to arrive. However, waiting in a business class seat with a Globe and Mail and a couple of drinks was a pretty decent way to do it. Eventually we got underway. I listened to a Joel Plaskett podcast about his favourite places to eat in Halifax, then watched two movies: Top Five and Rosewater. After that I knew I had to try to get some sleep.

Even with the lie flat bed I had a hard time getting more than an hour of sleep. In retrospect I should have used the mask and earplugs provided, because the couple next to me searching for her glasses with a flashlight for half an hour were hard to ignore.

WEDNESDAY

The sun woke me up as we flew over the UK, and I re-watched Mockingjay Part I while eating breakfast. I watched green, rolling hills get closer and closer. Switzerland looked lovely already. We landed in Zurich where we knew we’d already missed our connecting flight to Berlin. A gate agent let us know that they’d just rebooked us on a noon-ish flight, which was no problem as we just hung out in the SWISS lounge. Our flight to Berlin only took an hour and we both drifted in and out of fitful naps the entire time.

We checked into Ritz-Carlton, where my conference was being held. Since it was right on Postdamer Platz we took the easy route and went to the huge tourist trap Sony Centre next door for a beer at Lindenbrau. There we bumped into some colleagues, drank weissbeer and dunkel, and ate white Bavarian sausages and pretzels. Germany!

That night a small group (the conference speakers, actually) gathered at FACIL, a nearby two-Michelin-starred restaurant. The space was stunning, and the food was pretty stellar as well:

  • 2011 Scharzhofberg, Riesling Sekt Brut (Bischofliche Weinguter, Saar)
  • Langoustino w/ lettuce and kalamata olives
  • Eggplant “rosa bianca” w/ ras-el-hanout, harissa, and goat yoghurt
  • Char w/ leek and cidre
    • Previous three courses served with 2010 Grassnitzberg Sauvignon Blanc (Weingut Tement, Southern Styria)
  • Shoulder of poulting lamb w/ purple carrots and green cardamom
    • 2008 Corbieres “Cuvee Etoile” (Pradines D’Amont, Roussillon)
  • Dessert of dulcey-chocolate w/ kumquat and mandarine

And so ended our first (I think?) Michelin-starred-restaurant experience.

THURSDAY

On Thursday I attended the conference while Nellie went on a tour around Berlin, first on a bus, then on a boat.

That night the conference attendees put on their finery and went to a dinner at an interesting venue: Tempelhof Airport. Tempelhof has an interesting history: it’s named after early colonization of the area by the Knights Templar in the 13th century. The airport was (nearly) built by the Nazis, and it housed the only concentration camp in Berlin. The Russians occupied it when they took Berlin, then handed it over to the Americans, who used it a few years later for the Berlin Airlift. Commercial air traffic peaked in 1971 but diminished over time as jets grew in prominence. It officially closed down in 2008, and is now a multipurpose and event space. On this evening, the event was dinner in the main hall, with a 1940s flight attendant decor & band. Yup.

Unfortunately I accidentally deleted the pictures of this trip from my phone, and my phone was the only one with us (since it was black tie and Nellie had no pockets), so you’ll have to trust me on this one.

FRIDAY

On Friday we wrapped up the conference, including my bit. Nellie slept in.

We left the Ritz and took a cab to our second hotel, which was called The Dude. That’s right: The Dude. We expected to see a giant likeness of Jeff Bridges when we walked in, but alas. It’s a small, boutique-y kind of place with real character, away from the main tourist zones but still within a decent walk of everything we wanted to see.

We spent the last dwindling hours of Friday exploring the main Berlin sights: walking across the Spree to the Nikolaikircheplatz, past the Berliner Fernsehturm, then back across the Spree and past the Berliner Dom and Lustgarten. We walked along Unter den Linden to the Brandenburg Gate, then up to the Reichstag. We didn’t bother going inside because of how long the line was. Instead we cut through the corner of the Tiergarten to the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. There is an underground information centre, but what we saw — what most people see — is the field of 2,700 stelae. The way people sat on them, ran around them, hid behind them…either people didn’t know what the memorial was, or it was meant to be this open and interactive and unlike any traditional memorial. The holocaust was, after all, unlike any disaster before it.

After that we made the long walk down to Checkpoint Charlie, which wasn’t really worth it. It’s an unremarkable site, made remarkable only by what once happened there, which can’t be replicated. We left there and walked up to the Gendarmenmarkt on our way to dinner.

Das Meisterstück was actually on my list because of it’s beer rating, but they also happened to specialize in sausage and other grilled meats, so…score. The beer (made in-house) was damned tasty, our my duck sausage was outstanding, and Nellie even enjoyed hers. We were able to sit outside for most of it too, going inside only once the sun went down.

We’d walked all the hell over Berlin and we were full of beer & meat, so we walked back to our room The Dude and crashed.

SATURDAY

With the touristy stuff done we decided to see more of some Berlin neighbourhoods…Kreuzberg, mostly. We took our time getting up and out of the hotel The Dude, then headed east. Pretty much immediately we saw the difference in architecture…some old, Soviet-style buildings were definitely in evidence. We walked through a (slightly dodgy) park to the Oranienplatz, where we had breakfast at a new café called Ora. We left there and walked along the Oranienstrasse, sensing we were on a frontier of gentrification…there were coffee places and funky shops, but also run-down storefronts. We cut north through the Mariannenplatz and across the Spree to see the open-air East Side Gallery, a 1.3-km series of murals painted on the remnants of the Berlin Wall.

We walked along the wall, then along the Spree, then crossed back over to the south side of the river. Our intent was to have lunch at Hopfenreich, the top-rated beer place (within striking distance) in Berlin. It didn’t open until 4:00, sadly, so we thought maybe we’d check out the next nearest place: Heidenpeters. We knew nothing about it, including that it was inside Markethalle Neun, which was like a smaller St. Lawrence Market but with fewer merchants and more food stands. Heidenpeters was a brewery tucked into the back corner of the market, and for €2.50 you could sample any of their four beers. Their pale was especially delicious. We each got lunch (me: Berlin beef balls and potato salad; she: focaccia and prosciutto) and brought it back to the bar, revelling in what a lucky find this was.

We still had some more time to kill, so we walked back down to Orenienstrasse to the Museum der Dinge, a tiny museum of…well, things. I can’t possibly explain the place, so I’ll let their website do it:

The Werkbundarchiv – Museum der Dinge (Werkbund Archive – Museum of Things) chronicles the product culture of the 20th and 21st centuries, a culture marked by mass production and industrial manufacturing. At the core of our institution is the archive of the Deutsche Werkbund (DWB). Founded in 1907, this group of German artists, designers, and manufacturers was one of the leading organizations pushing for a cultural utopia achieved through design and way-of-life reforms at the beginning of the 20th century. The DWB aimed to counter the increasing feeling of estrangement by advocating for a reformed, modern and objective product design and architecture. It endeavored to forge a new understanding between product designers, manufacturers, suppliers, and consumers by establishing “ethically pure” design principles such as quality, material honesty, functionality and sustainability. Above all, it worked to determine an aesthetic ideal and to promote this ideal by exercising their influence on the design and production of modern German commodities.

The Werkbundarchiv – Museum der Dinge is as an autonomous organization, aware of and stemming from this Werkbund tradition. Our goal is twofold: to preserve and document material associated with and advocated by the Werkbund, and to foster contemporary interpretation and reflection thereupon.

So there you go. I swear it was more entertaining than it sounds.

We walked all the way back up to Hopfenreich but it wasn’t quite 4:00 yet, so I wandered around looking for — and finally finding — 19 Grams. The espresso they made me was superb. And much-needed, as I was already pooped.

We finally walked into Hopfenreich, and we were not disappointed. First: it was empty, so we had our run of the place. Second: our bartender (once she warmed to us a bit) was awesome, and cursed like a sailor. Third: the taps had been built into an old drill press, a lathe, and a ventilation duct. Fourth: they had a terrific beer list. We drank exclusively from Germany; they had lots of US craft but it seemed silly to order that. We drank the following:

  • Dan: Bier Fabrik Berlin Lemon Ale, Camba Bavaria Nelson Weisse, BrauKunstKeller Moll, Hanscraft & Co Black Nizza
  • Nellie: Von Freude Ale Primeur, Häffner Bräu Hopfenstopfer Incredible Pale Ale, Kompaan 20 Bondgenoot, Schneider Meine Hopfenweisse

It was a long walk home after that, but we weren’t done yet. We’d passed a winebar and grill the night before on the walk home and wanted to try it for dinner, and so we did. It was called the Rotisserie Weingrün, and it was packed. We took one of the few remaining spots at the bar table, and ordered WAY too much food. Seriously, we thought European portion sizes were supposed to be small. We should have known when our appetizers (smoked ham, asparagus salad) were huge, but we truly expected the two meat trios (chicken, pork ribs, pork belly) to be one small plate each…not half a chicken, an enormous rib, and pork belly the size of three small pork chops stacked on top of one another. Our eyes bugged out. Our server laughed. We ate half and took half home. We drank our wine (Germany makes decent Sauv Blanc and Chardonnay, and at least one really good Pinot Noir…who knew?) and chatted with the Dutch father and son next to us, and pretty much rolled home.

It was late, and we were tired and dreading the 4:00 alarm and a little drunk, so we packed and watched the BBC and I sat on the floor and ate (with my bare hands) the meat I couldn’t bear to leave behind.

Germany!

SUNDAY

Yeah, that’s right, we were up at 4. I was so tired I wanted to punch the universe in the face. We checked out and got a cab to the airport, weaving around the Berlin kids on their way home from raves.

We had a quick flight to Frankfurt surrounded by obnoxious, snoring people, then a connection in Frankfurt held up by very long passport control lines, then a long flight home. I got an hour or two of fitful sleep and then re-watched Guardians of the Galaxy and Interstellar and a few episodes of New Girl.

We arrived in Toronto, which had just been hit by a humidity bomb. We breezed through customs but waited 40 minutes for our bags. Thanks for those priority stickers, Lufthansa. Anyway, we finally got out, and got home, and got changed.

In the 30 or so hours that we had we felt like we had done the hell out of Berlin, and had the blisters and extra pounds to show for it.

Thanks Deutschland.

Courir de Mardi Gras

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Last November our friend CBJ asked us if we wanted to go to New Orleans to help celebrate his birthday. Of course we said yes. Through a series of misunderstandings we ended up not even being there at the same time, but we were still determined to enjoy the hell out of our return to NoLa.

Sunday

It was freezing cold when we left for the airport. Like, -39 with the wind chill — that kind of cold. Despite tiny hiccups with my Global Entry status, a food order, our take-off time, and a gate change, we were soon aboard and en route. I watched Fury (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and part of This Is Where I Leave You (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and then, boom: Louisiana.

We got into a cab, but because the parades had already begun we had a long, slow slog to the downtown core, creeping through the already-large crowds of people in the French Quarter. We had to walk the last few blocks to our hotel since there was just no way to cross Canal Street.

We finally got to Loft523, dropped our bags with the front desk, adjusted to being called y’all all the time, and walked to Barcadia for some lunch. Since it was about 18 degrees their front windows were open and, as luck would have it, facing onto the current parade route on Tchoupitoulas. Our first parade! We had amazing burgers and cold, local craft beer, and revelled in being on vacation.

Full, we walked back to the room to check in and clean up, then went back down to Tchoupitoulas to see more of the parade. At this point I believe we were watching the Krewe of Mid-City. We had fun watching the floats, marching bands, dance troupes, and musical acts rolls by, and realized how easy it was to accumulate beads. You kind of have to pay attention or they’ll smack you in the face. And no, no one flashes for them. Not outside of Bourbon Street, anyway.

We knew the Krewe of Thoth would be rolling soon, so we walked over to Canal Street for a better vantage point. We stood there for a few hours, yelling for beads and other throws, throwing little foam footballs back and forth with some guys across Canal Street, and so on. It wasn’t just tourists either — there were plenty of locals who came out to watch these parades, cheering on the kids in the marching bands, high-fiving the chaperones who walk with them, etc.

After getting changed back in our room we skipped back across Canal to the French Quarter for dinner, stopping first for a drink at Saint Lawrence — which pretty much instantly became our new favourite place in the Quarter. We had a couple of killer beers (like my Belgian Dubbel from Texas made with Japanese hops!) then walked the few minutes to Sylvain, where we’d made dinner reservations. It had gotten a bit chilly by local standards so most people sat inside, but we opted for a courtyard table. And why not? It was a good 50 degrees warmer than Toronto at that moment. We shared a “southern antipasti” plate, then Nellie had the pappardelle bolognese while I had the pork Milanese. We shared a chocolate pôt de crème for dessert too.

We couldn’t bring ourselves to go home before midnight, so we walked over to Canal to see a little bit of Bacchus (including what appeared to be a very hammered Gary Busey yelling into a microphone?) and went back to our new favourite place Saint Lawrence for one more beer.

New Orleans!

Monday

I let Nellie sleep in while I walked to Merchant for some coffee and breakfast, and then we geared up for Lundi Gras. We walked out to the French Quarter, to Royal Street, and just strolled around a bit. I looked for a hat. Nellie looked at bags. We picked out masks to buy later so we wouldn’t be the only ones without costumes.

We decided to have lunch at Café Amelie. Once again, we sat outside — they have a huge courtyard. Actor John C. Reilly, this year’s Bacchus parade marshal, showed up for lunch with friends. I had a beet salad and this amazing shrimp penne with corn and cajun spice; Nellie had cajun poutine. We didn’t even mind the few drops of rain.

We walked back to Pirate Alley and bought the masks, then stopped in at the Old Absinthe House to try…well, absinthe. I didn’t love it, to be honest, but it seemed like the thing to do. I also grabbed some coffee from Spitfire, which was awesome.

Our plan for watching the Lundi Gras parades was to head over to the Avenue Pub, our favourite spot from our last trip to NoLa. The St. Charles streetcar wasn’t running because of all the parades, so we walked there, and were actually a little schvitzy by the time we arrived. We grabbed a beer and chatted with the staff about the time I mailed the tip from Canada three years ago. At 4:00 they let us onto the 2nd-floor balcony overlooking the parade route, the perfect place to see the Krewes of Proteus and Orpheus as they rolled down St. Charles. And to sample some amazing beers, obviously.

At some point in the evening it began to pour down rain, but we stuck it out. Most people ducked back inside to wait out the rain, but we didn’t come to New Orleans to be put off by a little rain. Okay, a lot of rain, but we were prepared with jackets. We made friends with local couple Jim & Pam (seriously), and briefly with a woman from Manitoba. Poor Manitoba had had way too much to drink and ended up passing out by the bathroom, ultimately requiring paramedics to come and give her IV fluids. I’d like to think we salvaged the reputation of all Canadians through our good behaviour and general awesomeness. Still, at least one guy shook his head and muttered “Yankees!” under his breath. We settled up (we remembered!) and walked back to the hotel in what was now a very cold evening, past the strewn cups and beads and throws.

We’d hoped Cochon Butcher would be open, but it was locked up tight. We walked home along Tchoupitoulas, seeing a bit of the parade I’d missed while in the bathroom at the Avenue. We got home, dried off, took stock of all the beads and throws we’d caught, and changed into something dry before heading back out. Lundi Gras wasn’t over yet.

We stopped at Saint Lawrence once again for dinner & beers. Nellie’s wings were good but my fried chicken was out-goddamn-standing. After licking our fingers clean we walked to Frenchmen Street for some live music: Little Freddie King at d.b.a.. When we arrived he was playing “Baby Please Don’t Go” and I was in bluesy heaven. A perfect end to a perfect Lundi Gras!

Tuesday

Things got started early on Mardi Gras: Zulu started rolling around 8am, so we got up and walked up to St. Charles to see them go past.

By now it was freaking freezing. Okay, not Canada-freezing, but it was -3 with the wind chill, and we weren’t expecting that. We didn’t last long on the parade route, and anyway we were still tired from the night before. We walked over to the Quarter and had a terrific breakfast at the Café Fleur de Lis. Even though it was only about 10am we were starting to see lots of costumes now, and intricate ones at that.

We just couldn’t get warm though, so we walked back to the hotel. Nellie had a hot bath and felt better. I had a tiny nap, but really didn’t feel well. We went out for lunch at Ole Saint, but the jambalaya didn’t help. I kept feeling worse. I even had an espresso at Spitfire, but I still felt like cold ass. We kept walking around the Quarter to see more of the Mardi Gras festivities, like mini-parades along Royal and Chartres.

We finally stopped in at Industry, which I really liked last time we went to New Orleans, but…I just couldn’t. I didn’t have a pint in me, and the place was nuts anyway. Nellie got one to go and we walked back to the hotel. Mardi Gras was defeating me.

When we got home I had a bath, and it made all the difference. Turns out I just couldn’t get warm outside, and I’d forgotten what cold humid air felt like. Anyway, the bath saved me. We got dressed and went back out, cold be damned. A beer at Saint Lawrence fixed me up, and Nellie had her traditional King Cake in cocktail form.

We decided to see how Bourbon Street was faring, and it didn’t disappoint. The fact that it was so cold probably kept the crowds smaller and made it a bit more sane. We still got pelted by beads, and saw a chick kick a dent in a car right in front of a cop though, so there’s that.

Stay classy, Bourbon Street.

We returned home again, warmed up (again!), and got changed for dinner. We did the quick walk up to Borgne in the Hyatt Regency and had an excellent meal: jalapeño duck poppers and warm bread to start; oyster spaghetti for Nellie and black drum with crab meat for me, a bottle of Chenin Blanc, and apple cake for dessert. On our way out we heard that Young Jeezy was throwing a party upstairs, much to the bafflement of some of the Hyatt Regency patrons. We flagged a cab and swung back over to d.b.a. for some more live music.

Frenchmen Street was a zoo this time, but we still got in to d.b.a. to see the Treme Brass Band. We caught the last half of their set, which was tremendous fun to jump and sing and yell along to, especially when they had to teach everyone the words to “Li’l Liza Jane”.

With their warning — “Stay out of the Quarter, y’all…you come on vacation, but you’ll leave on probation!” — fresh in our ears we walked home along the edge of the Quarter to our hotel, as the cops cleared the streets at midnight. We crashed super-hard. Happy Mardi Gras!

Wednesday

No early morning parades today, but we still got up around 8am to head back to Merchant for coffee and breakfast. Nellie’s crepe was really good, as was my prosciutto, egg, and cheese croissant.

We’d arranged to be picked up that morning for an airboat tour of the Louisiana swamps. Our driver’s name was Big Joe, because of course it was. He drove us and about twenty other people down to Lafitte, and we got in a boat with a weird couple from New York and two friends from England. Our guide’s name was Jay, and he was full-blown Cajun. His family had come from Nova Scotia, just like mine.

Even with a sweater and a jacket, when he opened up that boat to full speed, it nearly froze us solid. We actually got windburn! We drove through wide channels and narrow, shallow bayous. We saw cranes and other big birds. We saw two young-ish alligators sticking their noses and eyes out the water, which was surprising at those temperatures. We even got to hold a 14-month-old alligator, which was pretty awesome.

Big Joe drove us back into the city, and we walked to Cochon Butcher for a late lunch. The sun had come out, and we sat outside eating pulled pork sandwiches and hot dogs and drinking cold IPAs. Finally New Orleans was warming to us.

We still had time to kill, so we walked to Café du Monde just to get a token beignet, but the line was a mile long, so we bailed. We walked up to Spitfire for proper coffee instead, then back through the (much calmer) Quarter to inspect the aftermath. By this point, my feet were a bit sore, and Nellie was knackered, so we didn’t last long. Back home she had a nap while I read a bit, and luckily we didn’t have far to go for dinner.

Luke was just around the corner, a NoLa-infused brasserie. I had my first Sazerac ever. We had a plate of HUGE oysters and a bowl of delicious (!) brussels sprouts. There was a mixup with our order but we somehow ended up with a surplus of crab, some of which made it into my pasta. Nellie invented a new dish which she called New Orleans poutine: fries covered with crab meat and hot sauce. We thought we had room for some bread pudding, but we left a bunch behind. We were done. Done done done. No live music on our final night — just relaxing, packing, sorting of beads, and sleep.

Thursday

I let Nellie sleep in a bit and went back to Merchant for one more coffee & croissant. I was hoping it had warmed up overnight so I’d have a nice walk there and back. It hadn’t, and I didn’t. Alas.

Our taxi got us to the airport where we used the new TSA Pre-Check line (so much faster!), and had one last beer and spicy sandwich before boarding. The flight home whizzed by; I finished watching This Is Where I Leave You and watched part of The Equalizer (imdb | rotten tomatoes) and then whammo: polar vortex.

We came home feeling like we’d really done the shit out of New Orleans. We’d seen Thoth and Orpheus and Zulu on St. Charles and Canal and Tchoupitoulas. We’d eaten amazing food in beautiful restaurants, and tried new beers in cool bars. We’d toured swamps, sung blues, caught beads, and walked Bourbon. I guess I regret not seeing any Indians, but by all reports it’s not an easy thing for two tourists to manage. Someday.

We love you, New Orleans. And, since it turns out next year Nellie’s 40th birthday falls on Mardi Gras next year, there’s a non-zero chance we’ll be seeing you again real soon.

Navy strength

Dan Dickinson1 Comment

On Wednesday Nellie and I rushed out of work (early; it was New Year’s Eve, after all) to come home, pick up our stuff, collect a couple of friends, and start driving north. We had all been invited to spend New Year’s Eve with our friends Kaylea & Matt at their Bat Lake cottage.

We worried about the forecast, but with little reason: we made the drive with almost no issues save the usual traffic slowdowns on the DVP and 401, and a few minor snow squalls along the way. After a stop or two we arrived just in time to watch the second half of the Canada/USA World Junior game. Canada won. Of course.

There were ten of us in total, and we were the last four to arrive. On top of what we’d brought, the place was already full of food and drink (including a 30L keg of beer). We hugged our hellos, poured a drink, snacked on meats and cheeses, and settled in. After a while the chef (Matt) and sous (Nellie) began preparing dinner. Though, Matt had been preparing some of it all day, smoking a brined chicken and a lamb shoulder. There was also beef (not sure where that came from, actually) and Nellie made scalloped potatoes with chorizo sausage, and we all plowed into it. We’d also been drinking some tremendous wines brought along by Kaylea’s friend Jordin, including an Italian style I’d never heard of (and can’t remember, dammit), a beautiful Barbaresco, and this amazing Barossa F.U. Shiraz (seriously) that was massive (17.5%!) and complex and puzzling. I can’t imagine I’ll ever get to try it again.

We played some Cards Against Humanity (I won; I am depraved) and then got bundled up so we could go out to where Matt had set up a fire. We stood around it, enjoying the warmth, and eventually sliding around for a bit on the lake itself, as the ice was plenty thick.

By midnight we were back inside, ready to drink a Magnum of another stunning wine: a 1998 Nicolas Feuillatte Palmes D’Or. It was Out. Goddamn. Standing. It was a fitting way to pay tribute to 2014, and welcome 2015.

We’d all had busy days, and had all been eating and drinking since 5pm (or earlier), so everyone crashed around 1:30. The next morning we slowly stirred ourselves, did a token clean up, had coffee from Fahrenheit, ate bacon and cranberry french toast, and drank breakfast Caesars.

Most people went out for a winter walk, but I stayed behind with downstairs Jeff (it’d take too long to explain the moniker; just go with it) to help clean up and then relax. The crew had taken warm cider with them; I poured myself a cup (with a little Navy Strength gin thrown in for good measure), sat by the window, and nerded out with Matt’s copy of The World Of Ice & Fire.

Eventually everyone came back from their trek…some got cold and came in to warm up, while others tried to light another fire. I waited until it was going strong (I’m a sissy, and no longer of any use with outdoor things) before joining them.

We drank Winter Ale and Okanagan wine by the fire, taking shelter from the snow and wind amongst the trees, and felt about as Canadian as we could feel.

Eventually we too got cold, and went back inside for more food, and a Cards Against Humanity speed round (Steph won; she is depraved). For dinner Matt had made chili, and it was the most amazingly delicious chili I had ever eaten. It was sweet and spicy and the perfect consistency. I went back for seconds. I had to talk myself out of thirds. As it was I just kept taking great heaping spoonfuls of it from the pot and shoving them in my gob.

We weren’t done with the outdoors; a few of us wrapped up again and went back to the lake. It was so dark, and so snowy, that you couldn’t see the other side of the lake. Just a faint outline of the tops of trees amidst a Hoth-like blank spot on the earth. I’ve lived in the city for so long I’d forgotten how quickly winter can create this sense of distance and danger, even when you’re only a few hundred feet from a warm house.

Back at the cottage everyone was starting to wind down, or already napping. We were full of food and drink and tired from the cold. My body began rejecting everything…any more food, any more drink, being awake at all. Nellie began folding laundry. Began, never finished. We were all wiped, apart from upstairs Jeff who watched George Carlin’s classic Seven Words sketch on late-night TV. As one does.

I woke up Friday morning worrying about how I would get our rental car up a snowy driveway, but then the local Mr. Plow showed up and saved the day. We cleaned the place as best we could, scarfed down some scrambled eggs and toast, packed up, and jumped in the car with our charges to head home. Nellie and I had to get back to the city for a 3:00 puck drop in the first World Jr. semifinal. Fortunately it got less snowy as we drove south, and we had no problems on the way home (extreme nausea and over-full bladders excepted) and we hit Toronto by 2:15. We offloaded our stuff, put our travel companions in an Uber limo, dropped the rental car, and made it to the ACC just in time for the game.

It was a weekend of celebration: the new year, superb people, the Canadian outdoors, and plenty of amazing food and drink:

For the record, that’s 8 bottles plus 1 magnum of champagne, 5 bottles plus 2 magnums of red wine, 3 bottles of white wine, 1 bottle of port, 6 large bottles of (strong) beer, and the better part of the rum, scotch, gin, and vodka. Plus about 2/3 of the keg in the background and a while bunch of tallboys we didn’t even bother to count.

Night, 2014. Morning, 2015!

Cover photo by Scott Nelson, used under Creative Commons license

Early Christmastime

Dan Dickinson1 Comment

We did Christmas a bit differently this year: in order to be back in NS at the same time as a brother and his family we flew out last week — the week before Christmas — to see everyone. Nellie flew the day before I did to see her mother; I joined them Monday and drove to the farm Tuesday. I played with a baby, rough-housed with my favourite dogs, watched my niece’s basketball game (in my first return to my old high school, 21 years after graduation…I nearly broke out into hives), played many games of crib and one of trivial pursuit (brother #2 and his other daughter with a stunning come-from-behind win), ate dad’s ice cream and mom’s pie and drank my brother’s beer, and generally relaxed like it was my job.

We opened a few gifts at my parents’ place, but one very special surprise: a quilt for each of my brothers and I (and our dad) at the request of my grandmother years ago before she died. It took our mother quite a while to find someone who could make the exact pattern she requested (the Boston Common) but the wait paid off: they’re beauties, and now we have quilts from my mother, Nellie’s aunt, and both of my grandmothers.

Back at the mother-in-law’s place we did another early gift opening, and wound up with some terrific local Benjamin Bridge sparkling, and a very cool graphic novel and print from one of Nellie’s cousins. The next day we flew home to Toronto whilst sat next to a screaming toddler. We dropped our bags, grabbed a late lunch at Triple A, and decompressed for the last few hours of our vacation.

Merry early Christmas, everyone.

.:.

Cover photo by Scott Nelson, used under Creative Commons license

Ottaweekend

Dan Dickinson2 Comments

FRIDAY

It’s a universal truism that the Friday afternoon you’re hoping to wrap up early so you can catch a flight is the crazy-busiest stretch of the week. And so it was with us last Friday as we closed everything off as best we could, rushed home, grabbed our bags, and took off to catch a flight.

Even with bad ferry luck we had enough time to enjoy the Porter lounge, and an hour after boarding our flight we landed in Ottawa. We checked in at the Westin downtown and went out in search of food.

After walking through a very raucous Byward Market (a pub crawl of frozen Carlton students was the prime culprit) we tucked in at Vineyards Wine Bar. It was okay, but I can’t understand the long list of Wine Spectator awards. The wine list looked fairly pedestrian. The beer selection was pretty decent though, so we began heading in that direction after our charcuterie board let us down. After a while we were joined by Toronto friends JP+Sue, also in town, for one or two more. I ended up having a Unibroue Raftman, a Saison Dupont, and a Unibroue Maudite.

When Vineyards shut down around midnight we decided to have one more somewhere else. JP suggested Brothers Beer Bistro just down the street, a place high on my must-try list, so off we went. Cool spot. We closed it down around 2:15; I drank and Aventinus and the Mill Street Cobblestone stout from Nellie’s beer flight.

We got off the hotel elevator on the top floor and walked through a crowd of fancily-dressed people spilling out of the big suite across the lobby from our room. Nellie was hungry again so she perused the room service menu while I ran to the bathroom. Just then someone knocked on our door, and for some reason Nellie opened it. A couple stood there. The conversation went something like this:

Couple: “Uh, this isn’t suite 2318.”

Nellie: ” Nope, it’s not. 2318 is over there.” *points*

Couple: “Got it! Hey, we’re having a party over there if you guys want to come over for a drink.”

Nellie: “Oh, no thanks. It’s late. We’re just going to eat something and go to bed.”

Couple: “Are you sure? We’re very open-minded.”

Nellie: “Uh…okay. Nope, we’re good, thanks.”

Couple: “Okay, well, if you change your mind just come on over. We’re very open-minded.”

Nellie: “OK, g’nite!” *closes door, sets night lock*

A few minutes later some room service chicken wings showed up. We scarfed them down and tried not to think too hard about what had just happened. A little after 3am we crashed out.

SATURDAY

We’d had to keep the previous evening’s events quiet on social in order to fulfill a big part of our reason to be in Ottawa: to surprise our friend CB on her birthday weekend. GB had arranged for us to surprise her by meeting them for brunch at the Baker Street Cafe in Westboro. We got out of the cab and crossed the street right in front of her, but she didn’t notice us. We got in line right behind her, and waited for about 20 seconds before she noticed us and freaked out. Mission accomplished!

We had to wait about 20 minutes for a table, but it was worth it. The food was great — especially the sausage I had with my French toast — and there was so much that we left almost an entire breakfast behind. Incroyable. We finished there, did a quick stop at MEC with them, went back to their house for a little bit, and then went back downtown to our hotel.

Nellie was determined to have a nap, but first we went for a stroll around Parliament Hill. The food and fresh air put Nellie down pretty quickly, but I’d had an espresso during our walk so I stayed awake and read in the other room.

A quick word on this Westin: it’s an old hotel which has received a face lift in some spots, like the lobby, but still shows its age in others, like the windows or TVs. Not that we were watching much TV, but the one in the living room didn’t work for most of the weekend. There was also problems with the elevators like long waits and slow rides down at busy times like breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

And so, because we were caught off guard by the wonky elevators, we were (nearly) the last ones to arrive to CB’s birthday dinner at Restaurant 18. About 30 people were assembled to celebrate with her, most of whom we didn’t know, but we made fast friends. Especially once the meal was done and we begin swapping seats.

Speaking of the meal it was fantastic. The beet salad was great, my lamb was some of the best I’ve ever eaten, and the chocolate marquis dessert was perfect. I think GB catered to Nellie and I when picking the wine: an all-Ontario lineup of Redstone Chardonnay and Organized Crime meritage.

With the meal over we decided to relocate. Our first potential stop failed the douchebag test before ever set foot in the door. The second place failed it only after we stepped inside and were told we’d have to do bottle service. Fuck that. JP and I made an executive call and walked down the street to someplace we thought could work: Brothers Beer Bistro. They put together a table for 10 and we drank many, many good beers. Myself, I had the Trois Mousquetaires Gose, a Rodenbach Grand Cru, a St. Bernardus Wit, and a Nickel Brook Cuvee Reserve. By the end of the evening it was once again JP, Sue, Nellie and I who closed the joint down.

We went home and supercrashed, again around 3am. No awkward inquiries from neighbors this night. None that we heard, anyway.

SUNDAY

I managed to get about six hours of sleep. Unfortunately Westin blinds down close completely so by 9am the room was pretty bright and I was fully up. I let Nellie sleep and walked down Elgin to check out The Ministry Of Coffee. I had an amazing cortado and a nutella croissant there before walking home. It was a nice little stroll along the canal on what was turning out to be a mild fall morning.

I got back in time to roust Nellie from bed. We had brunch plans with our friends Mark+Sandra, Dino+Kerry, and their kids. Dino had made brunch plans at…wait for it…Brothers Beer Bistro. So we walked in for the third time in about 36 hours. At this point we were basically employees.

Brunch was excellent. I had fluffy pancakes covered in fruit and crème fraîche, and pork belly bacon. Nellie had a cheese and egg and peameal beacon monstrosity alongside a pound of fries. And a Caesar. The kids gamely assembled suitable meals out of this weird collection of food and quietly read or played games. Next time we have brunch with four kids I’m requesting those ones.

We said our goodbyes, walked back to the hotel to pack up, and got confused by our own timing and got to the airport a little earlier than we meant to, but it worked out — YOW is actually a quiet, relaxing airport.

It’s hard to believe we were only in town for about 43 hours. It felt like we did a lot. And by “did” I mean “ate and drank and laughed”. Must make plans to come back when it’s warm; we have more place to try, and I miss Ottawa when it’s green.

Happy birthday CB!!

Okanagan & Vancouver

Dan Dickinson2 Comments

We’d planned to do a big trip this year. Like, big big. To keep on top of our all-seven-continents-before-we-turn-40 plan we’d planned to do some part of Asia this year — the debate was ongoing as to which part, but something. Work, though, made that impossible. We couldn’t take 2-3 weeks away from work this year, and there wasn’t time to properly plan something anyway. So we opted for something simple that involved no passports, no immunizations, no new languages: we opted for the Okanagan Valley. Wine, scenery, good food, and relaxation. Check, check, check, and fuck yes.

Sunday

We woke up at stupid o-clock to head to the airport. Our Uber driver was awesome and a cappuccino from the Maple Leaf lounge helped me open my eyes. I also got to sit in the business class pods for the first time; heretofore I’d only been in the typical non-pod business class seats. It was nice, but kind of weird too. Nellie didn’t mind; she was horizontal and asleep before we cleared Winnipeg airspace. I re-watched Lone Survivor (having just finished the book) and Godzilla.

Upon arriving at YVR and collecting our bags we went for the first in a series of recurring themes on this trip: the up-sell. For an extra $15/day, the nice man at the Budget rental counter explained, I could have a BMW 328i.

So, yeah. Sure. We did that. And we drove that bad boy right out of the airport and launched onto the wide-open roadways of…Vancouver’s winding back streets. Over which we crept ever-so-slowly out of the city. Ugh. Still, once we cleared, say, Abbotsford, we opened ‘er up and spun eastward through the mountains, and were reminded of just how goddamned beautiful BC is. To wit: this was the view when we stopped for lunch at the Blue Moose Café in Hope:

We kept driving east through green mountains and twisty roads and desert plateaus, finally emerging into the beautiful Okanagan valley. That first view of Osoyoos Lake after a 5-hour drive looked pretty good. After ~14 straight hours of travel we were done in, but decided to hit the two southernmost wineries on our list while we at the bottom of the valley.

Nk’Mip was one of the biggest we hit during our trip, and one of my most anticipated. I will say, it didn’t blow me away, but I think that had more to do with a) my high expectations and b) our complete lack of awareness of what to expect from BC wines. We tasted quite a few but ended up buying a 2010 Meritage and 2012 Chardonnay. Staggering views from up there though. Wow.

Moon Curser was next, and a very different experience: small place, intimate tasting room, super-friendly, and lots of interesting varietals. The lady there gave us a few recommendations for further up the valley, and we left with bottles of the 2011 Dead Of Night (a Tannat/Syrah blend), 2011 Border Vines (a Bordeaux blend), and 2013 Afraid Of The Dark (a Roussanne/Marsanne/Viognier blend). We were starting to identify the varietals here in BC that we couldn’t find as easily back in Ontario.

We really were pooped now though, so we drove out of Osoyoos and up to our home for the next few days: Hester Creek. We checked into the villas, got cleaned up, and had a glass of wine on the patio.

Dinner that night was at Terrafina on the winery’s property, so we just had to wander down the hill. I’d thought this through, right? We stopped along the way for a tasting before dinner, and had them set aside two bottles of the 2013 Late Harvest Pinot Blanc, and a bottle of the 2011 The Judge for retrieval the next day.

Our dinner at Terrafina really set the tone for the trip: it was outstanding. I had scallops and the chicken breast; Nellie had cauliflower soup and a duck confit pasta, which she declared one of her five favourite pastas of all time. We thanked our excellent server, bought beers for the kitchen staff, and walked home through the vines under a night sky so clear we could see the Milky Way. We toasted day one with the rest of that white wine on the patio. Cheers, Sunday!

Monday

The start to day two was almost ridiculously nice. I made some coffee, watched a perfect sunrise from the patio, listened to hawks cry overhead, and watched a young deer wander through the vines below us. The constant sound of bird cannons didn’t bother me; it just reminded me we were in wine country.

We ate breakfast — bacon, oven-baked French toast, and fresh local fruit — outside with the other guests and then got to work: more wineries. We tried to find Osoyoos Larose but couldn’t. Since their website seems to be deactivated we wondered whether the winery is even still operating. Either way, we couldn’t find it and bailed, crossing the river to Black Sage Road.

Burrowing Owl was our first stop of the day, and was another one high on the list. I had high expectations for this one, but like Nk’Mip it was just…solid. Not bad, but not really memorable. We ended up buying a 2011 Athene and a 2010 Merlot, and after perusing the restaurant’s menu decided not to eat lunch there later in the day.

Platinum Bench, just down the road, wasn’t one we’d heard of before coming, but the good people at Moon Curser had recommended it. As soon as we walked in we could smell the fresh-baked bread made by one of the owners. They pair the fresh bread with some of their wines, which is 1) a neat idea and 2) a terrific way to sell bread. We left with two loaves of bread (one stuffed with soppressata and Swiss cheese, the other with figs and brie) and bottles of the 2011 Meritage, 2012 Merlot, and 2013 Pinot Gris. Oh, and we got to play with their dog. The morning was picking up.

Church & State was next, and we found it pretty much empty. This was another recurring theme — I guess 11am on a Monday isn’t that popular a wine tasting window. Except for pros like us, obviously. We tasted everything they had open, bought the 2009 Quintessential, 2011 Coyote Bowl Syrah, and 2013 Viognier, and got a few recommendations from them for the next few days, such as…

Le Vieux Pin. We’d bypassed their sister winery, La Stella, on the way up, but we were advised not to make the same mistake with Le Vieux Pin. We were glad we didn’t — we got up-sold on the premium tasting, and fell for their three Syrahs. We took away a half-dozen: 2011 Syrah, 2012 Ava, 2013 Equinox Chardonnay, 2013 Sauvignon Blanc, and two bottles of the 2011 Equinox Syrah. Their wines weren’t cheap, but they were terrific.

Black Hills, just back up Black Sage Road, was another recommendation from Church & State. Actually, their recommendation was to eat lunch there and do their full tasting, but it turned out they weren’t offering lunch that day. Still, we did the full tasting outside on the patio and ordered a charcuterie board to tide us over.

I was more than intrigued by their Carmenère. We went for the minor up-sell (there’s that theme again) and sprung for the vertical tasting of their flagship Nota Bene red. We didn’t buy any bottles that day, but then we went for the major up-sell, and joined their wine club. Crazy, right? But those reds were good, and shipping is free, so…yeah. Up-sell FTW.

It had already been a more productive day than expected, so we were almost ready to pack it in. Almost. We drove back across the river to highway 97 and took the long driveway up to Culmina‘s gates, but because we hadn’t bothered to make a reservation we turned back around and opted to make just one other stop.

Road 13 was on my must-try list, but I don’t remember how or why. Frankly, I’m surprised it got there — we were very disappointed. We did buy two bottles — a sparkling 2011 Chenin Blanc and a 2012 Syrah Mourvedre — but our tasting experience was so rushed and impersonal that we left in a bit of shock. We felt like we were being rushed out as the staff tried to close up, even though it was nowhere near closing time. Weird. We ended up drinking both wines over the next few days, and they weren’t bad, but they weren’t coming back to Ontario with us. Disappointing.

We did need some food though, so we went back to Terrafina for lunch and drove up the hill to our villa for a little break before dinner. It was around this time that I started to feel really sick. I’d been fighting a cold in the days leading up to the vacation — this often happens to me, as soon as my body fights through things during busy periods but knows it has a break coming up — but I thought it might be allergies too. Either way, I felt pretty rotten all afternoon.

I felt poorly at dinner too, which was a shame, because I couldn’t really enjoy Miradoro at Tinhorn Creek. I had a quail appetizer (after driving through a flock of them on the drive up…I felt bad) and elk for my main; Nellie had a bowl of clams and chorizo, followed by a wild boar bacon carbonara pasta. She got a dessert, but here’s how bad I felt by this point: I couldn’t even order the salted chocolate budino on the menu, even though that’s one of my favourite desserts. Also: we drank the recommended (Tinhorn Creek) wine pairings, but nothing impressed us. In fact, some of them just tasted bad. Not off, just…bad. If that had been been just my opinion I’d have assumed the cold affected my taste buds. But it wasn’t just me. Surprising, since they’re one of the heavyweights in OK.

My body was trying very hard to shut down, so we were home by 9:30 and I fell asleep a few minutes after that.

Tuesday

I woke up feeling better, so I couldn’t resist getting up for another sunrise before breakfast. This time we shared a table with a couple from Texas, on their way to Moraine Lake. They were also going to hike at Lake O’Hara, so we were rather jealous. After breakfast we packed up our room, picked up some cold meds in Oliver, and drove north to more wineries.

Blue Mountain was a must-stop for us, and didn’t disappoint. We ended up chatting with a lady who knew a lot about Ontario wines and wineries, and told us how lucky we were that they had 2006 Blanc de Blanc on hand. We left with two bottles of it, and one of their 2013 Gamay. They were sold out of several others I wish we could have tried.

Blasted Church was a little further up the road, and one of the few BC wineries we’d already tried. On our last visit to Lake O’Hara the lodge served us some Blasted Church wine; we couldn’t remember which, but Nellie sampled a bunch in the hopes of jogging her memory. In the end we took a 2010 Nothing Sacred and two bottles of the 2013 “Bible Thumper” Viognier.

Painted Rock was the most spectacular winery we saw on this trip. Not necessarily the biggest, but the slickest. It looked like an Apple store. It was very good too — they poured just four wines but we ended up buying three: the 2012 Syrah, the flagship red 2012 Icon, and 2013 Reserve Rosé. We took one last look at the view, and continued on to Penticton.

I don’t quite know what possessed me to book lunch at The Hooded Merganser. I guess I didn’t know until we pulled into the parking lot that it’s in a casino. Perhaps if it had been a nice day we could have sat on the patio for lunch and enjoyed a view of the lake. Anyway, it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t as interesting a meal as we’d hoped for. Can’t win ’em all, I guess.

The weather had turned at this point — our luck had finally run out. Well, almost; we left downtown Penticton just in time to see a squadron of ducks cross the street in front of us. Seriously, about a half-dozen of them crossed the street using a crosswalk. And then crossed the street the other way, again using the crosswalk. We’d never seen anything like it, but I for one welcome our new aquatic fowl overlords.

Poplar Grove was just outside of the downtown, and we stopped mainly to confirm where our dinner would be later that evening. We did taste a few though, and walked away with a 2009 Legacy and 2013 Viognier. We were loving how much Viognier we could find in the valley. It’s a favourite, and a rare find in Ontario. Our next stop was Serenata Guest House, where we would lay our heads for the evening, but it wasn’t yet open. No matter; there were plenty of wineries waiting for us up the Naramata bench.

La Frenz, for instance. This was another recommendation from both Church & State and Painted Rock; strangely enough we weren’t that taken with the place. Maybe we’d been spoiled by all the empty wineries to date and suddenly here we encountered a crowd, but the wines weren’t much to write home about either. We did nonetheless leave with a 2012 “Rockyfeller” Malbec.

Red Rooster was a miss. Sure, we took away a 2012 Bantam White (which we drank that night) and a 2013 Reserve Rosé, but overall it wasn’t worth writing home about. To be fair, though, we didn’t try the Meritage, which happens to be in the LCBO right now, so we may owe them another try.

Howling Bluff, a little further up the bench, was about as far from Painted Rock as we could get. Tiny, no frills, but fun enough (and high-potential enough) that we bought a bottle of the 2010 Summa Quies Bordeaux blend to age at home for a few years.

By now we’d killed enough time to check in, so we drove back to Serenata and met Jake, just about the friendliest guy in the world. He showed us around, gave us the lay of the land, recommended some other wineries, talked up his Syrah (they own, or owned at this point, 3 Mile winery up the road), and told us the plan for breakfast the next morning. We dropped our suitcases in the room, opened a bottle of red, and walked up the hill to the lookout.

We’d booked dinner at Vanilla Pod restaurant that night, back at Poplar Grove winery. Our meals were good, but huge — I could only eat about half of my paella. The most interesting part of the evening was a chance for Nellie to see her friend from elementary school, who now lived in Penticton. First time they’d seen each other in about 25 years. What a nice surprise, and a great way to end day three.

Wednesday

While waiting for Jake’s wife Colleen to make her killer breakfast I noticed a tweet from wine writer Rick Van Sickle, recommending a small winery we’d never heard of. We added it to the list of wineries we planned to try that day, ate our ham & omelette, and packed up. Jake gave us a bottle of their 3 Mile 2011 Syrah and we were on our way.

Laughing Stock was our first stop of the day, and ended up being one of our favourites on the trip. The ex-investment banker theme is a nice touch. We tasted everything they had, and bought three bottles: the 2012 “Blind Trust” Bordeaux blend, 2013 Viognier, and 2013 Chardonnay.

Van Westen was next, and it was probably the most awesomely lo-fi tasting experience of the trip. We walked into a barn, stepped over hoses and around barrels, and sped through a tasting of everything they had. I think every minute they spent with us took them away from making wine, or running the business, or something useful. We took home bottles of the 2010 “Voluptuous” Bordeaux blend, 2012 Viognier, and 2012 “Vino Grigio” Pinot Gris. This place felt real; it was a fun experience.

Nichol, on the other hand, was disappointing. The wine was okay, but the person serving us actually seemed annoyed that we even walked into the place. She wasn’t interested in telling us much about the wines, and mainly seemed to want to get back to her sandwich. This place had been highly recommended, so I can only assume this was unusual. Like I said, the wine was decent, so we bought some 2011 Syrah and some 2013 Pinot Gris, but were pretty happy to leave.

We had lunch reservations at Hillside but we were still so full from breakfast that we canceled and kept driving back to Penticton. We pulled into the Penticton Wine Info Centre in the hopes that they would be able to help us mail our wine back to Toronto. Alas, no such luck: the Ontario liquor laws are so ridiculous that everyone’s scared to send anything there. Well, almost everyone…but more on that later. Anyway, we ended up re-packing everything into shipping crates in the parking lot, including bottles of Osoyoos Larose 2009 Le Grand Vin and Pentage 2012 Sauvignon Blanc / Semillon which we bought to round out our collection, and drove to Summerland for lunch.

After a quick bite at The Local Lounge & Grille we drove up into the town to find the winery Rick had recommended: TH Wines. It was tough to find; we didn’t expect to find a winery next to an auto body shop and a coffee roaster. Tyler (the winemaker) had set up shop in an industrial unit, making his wine in the back and selling it up front in a tiny room with a few handmade benches for tasting. About half his wines were sold out, but we took bottles of his 2012 Cab Merlot and 2013 Viognier with us. What a great time — meeting and tasting wines from a real craftsman. Rick really came through with that recommendation. Tyler even managed to take a picture of us that we didn’t hate.

And with that, we were all wineried out. We packed the TH bottles into the final two empty slots in our shipping boxes (final count: 48 bottles!) and drove on to Kelowna. Well, West Kelowna, actually — that’s where our B&B was. On the way we stopped at a UPS store, who were more than happy to take our money to ship our stuff to Toronto. The staff were terrific and made us feel confident that the wine would make it home safe and sound. A few minutes later we were at our B&B, A View Of The Lake.

Steve invited us into their place and gave me some much-needed coffee. We sat and enjoyed the view of Kelowna, and made dinner plans. We took a cab into town, checked in at RauDZ for dinner, and then went around the corner to Salted Brick for a drink. We shared a Nelson organic pumpkin beer and watched a very odd collection of characters wander by. RauDZ ended up calling after only half an hour, which was almost a shame. We liked Salted Brick so much we wanted to stay longer.

Dinner at RauDZ was easily the best meal I’d eaten all year. Seriously. We had cocktails to start — I had something called The Thorogood, made of bourbon, scotch, and beer (I suppose it wouldn’t have done to name the thing The Hooker) — and then Nellie and I shared a pea & saffron risotto. For our mains I had duck with polenta, raspberry reduction, greens, and beets; Nellie had crusted Pacific salmon, root vegetables, and kale. We paired those mains with a TH Pinot Noir, which we hadn’t been able to try when we stopped in earlier that day. It was all so bloody amazing. Nothing fancy or complex, just fresh, delicious, and prepared perfectly.

Wow. G’nite, Okanagan. You saved your best for last.

Thursday

Steve and his wife Chrissie made us a seriously badass three-course breakfast to start our last day in the valley. We talked to a lovely couple from Manchester and a family of traveling Germans at the table, had a little coffee, and packed up to once again get on the road. Our drive west from Kelowna was amazing…we started climbing right outside the city and drove straight into a cloud bank. Visibility was down to a few yards until we broke back out of it. After that it was hours of gorgeous scenery until we got to Hope, gassed up, grabbed some unfortunate grease at a weirdly religious McDonald’s, and made the drive into Vancouver. After some difficulty locating one last gas station we dropped the car at the airport and took a cab downtown.

Arriving at our hotel was weird. The Shangri-La is a very high-touch hotel where about four people attack you as soon as your cab arrives, and hover like hummingbirds until you’re checked in and in your room. Our room was nice though: a roomy balcony, buttons which control the whole room, nice TV, huge bathroom, and so on. Pretty sweet. We took a walk to stretch our legs, stopped at Malone’s for a craft beer or two, then went back to the room to get cleaned up before dinner.

Our dinner reservations were at Hawksworth, by all reports one of the best restaurants in Vancouver…maybe the best. We weren’t disappointed — it’s a very cool space, the service was fantastic, and the food was amazing. Here’s what we ate & drank:

  • Nellie: Blue Mountain sparkling wine / Dan: the Dalhousie #2: lot 40 rye, ginger of the Indies, Averna Amaro, whiskey barrel bitters
  • Nellie: spiced carrot velouté with seared scallop, coconut, gingerbread, and cilantro, paired with a glass of Chenin / Dan: yellowfin tuna tartare with spicy tomato sauce and andouille sausage, paired with a glass of Albarino
  • Both: whole Yakima farm rack of lamb with baby nugget potato, fava bean, wild mushroom and mint chimmichurri, paired with a bottle of Villa Martis 2010 Barbera/Nebbiolo

Zoinks: two stellar meals in as many nights. We barely made the walk back to our hotel bed before conking out.

Friday

Vancouver was, by now, fully in its natural state: raining. Not cold though. I walked to Bel Café (which turned out to be part of Hawksworth) for a coffee and some croissants. I ate my breakfast and read the Globe on the balcony, and let Nellie sleep in for a bit.

Luckily our main plan for the day wouldn’t be affected by rain. We’d booked a tour with Vancouver Whale Watch, and met their shuttle a few minutes away from our hotel. We rode down to Richmond, or rather to the little town of Steveston, where we boarded our boat along with about 30 other people, including some large groups of people obviously stepping onto a boat for the first time. The water was pretty choppy as we left the mouth of the Fraser river, passing some California sea lions, and got rougher as we travelled south, but settled down once we got into the island passages. We saw colonies of Stellar sea lions and harbour seals just off Saturna Island.

Soon after that we crossed into US territory and saw our first big catch of the day: a humpback whale. There were already boats on station waiting for the whale to surface again; Nellie and I were the first two to spot it when it resurfaced, and were promptly swarmed by people looking for a better vantage point once they realized what we were looking at. We managed to see it spout a few times, and then saw the entire fluke stand straight out of the water as it dove. The captain didn’t wait for it to come back up again as we needed to get further south still.

We rounded San Juan Island into the Strait of Juan de Fuca and found a number of boats already watching a pod of Southern Resident orcas. We had to stay pretty far back from the whales due to US regulations, but we got to see plenty of males and females swimming and eating, and hung out there observing for about 45 minutes. We didn’t take pictures…all we had were our phones, which just couldn’t handle the distance. Anyway, we were much happier to watch and just remember. It was so beautiful to see. Then, just as we were leaving, a big male surfaced just off our port side where Nellie and I were sitting. He swam right toward us and dove right under our boat. Amazing.

We re-entered Canadian waters east of Victoria and sped back up the Haro Strait, through Boundary Pass, swerving between Galiano and Mayne Islands, and finally burned north across the Strait of Georgia to Steveston. Half the guests (including Nellie) slept on the way back, now that the water was calmer. I tried to look around and absorb a little of the beauty of the Southern Gulf Islands. We finally docked, swapped boats for shuttles, and made the long drive through rush hour traffic back to our hotels. The total trip was much longer than we’d expected, but it was worth it.

We were just about done in. but there’s no way I was coming to Vancouver and not trying The Alibi Room, the top-rated beer place in Vancouver. We cleaned up and walked across downtown Vancouver, through Gastown, a neighbourhood neither of us had seen before but which we really liked. We arrived at the Alibi Room to find a lengthy waiting list, but they cleared a spot at the downstairs bar pretty quickly and got us to a table shortly afterward. There were a few food snafus, and the place was like a freaking sauna, but the beers were pretty tasty. So yeah, a very good beer place, but not mind-blowing. I must admit, having easy access to places like Volo and Bar Hop has nearly ruined other beer places for me. We jumped in cab for home, drank some Road 13 sparkling on the balcony, and got packed up for our early flight home.

Saturday

When I say early, I mean early. We were up before 5, but because I never really adjusted to Pacific time it was easier than waking up the day we left Toronto. We hung out in the Maple Leaf lounge at YVR, and then again in Calgary during a quick stopover. I watched Neighbors and X-Men: Days Of Future Past on the flight back. Everything went smoothly at the airport when we arrived in Toronto, but the cab ride home was brutal due to the Gardiner being closed and Toronto traffic being its usual nightmarish self. But we made it in one piece.

How much did we love the Okanagan? We’ve already started planning a return visit, this time probably flying directly into Kelowna. Our UPS shipment arrived Wednesday night, which was like Christmas morning. In fact, this trip was the trigger for us to upgrade our wine fridge — a new one arrives this week.

Thanks, BC. We miss you already. You’re the prettiest province of them all. We love your mountains and your deserts, and your hosts and your restaurants, and your whales and your wine. We’ll come see you again soon. Promise.