Showing posts with label sunset. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sunset. Show all posts

Wednesday, 19 October 2016

Peru: Ancient cultures and altitude problems

Woo! I'm only... less than a week late with this one. This time I am blaming being super busy with adventurous things. And the fact that WiFi at my hostels hasn't been the best. Also, I'm just generally bad at remembering to post these things, evidently.

My second week in Peru went something like this.

Chocolate tea... chocolate buttons... chocolate pisco?

I decided to spend the day making use of my Cusco Tourist Ticket. I'd bought it to get into the ruins at Ollantaytambo, but it gave me access to a whole host of other sites in Cusco and the surrounding area.

Including, to my delight, some museums. I figured I'd spend the day working my way through the three included Cusco museums. Contrary to the information on the ticket, the contemporary art museum appeared to be closed, so I headed across the plaza to the Museo Historico Regional instead.

It's quite a small museum and the entire upper floor is dedicated to the Colonial era. Interesting, but not as interesting as the pre-Columbian section downstairs. And when I say pre-Columbian... well, this was the first room.



That's a glyptodont fossil. They're basically huge, prehistoric armadillos. Definitely pre-Columbian. In the next few rooms, though, were a whole host of pre-Incan artefacts, including this somewhat rude figurine, probably used as a fertility symbol.



Also, this delightful display of the various potato varieties grown around Cusco. I am reliably informed by multiple guides that Peru has over 3000 varieties of potato. I have tried some of them. They are delicious.



Following on from the regional museum, I decided to check out the ChocoMuseo, which isn't a museum as much as a marketing ploy. It is, however, delicious. And free. I'm not going to turn my nose up at free chocolate. So, our guide first explained to us about Peruvian chocolate and that you can tell where the cacao beans come from by the taste. At which point we all ate a cacao bean.

Cacao beans taste chocolatey, but also bitter and to me at least, quite earthy. Not bad, but not something I want to be munching on a regular basis. Fortunately, after the bean, we got to try a whole host of other chocalatey goodness while our guide explained the process of turning the beans into chocolate.

Soooo... I had cacao tea (better than the chocolate tea I've had before), hot chocolate (YUM), chocolate buttons flavoured with coca, sea salt, various fruits and a really nice white chocolate, chocolate and fruit jams and, possibly my favourite, pisco flavoured with chocolate and fruit. Passionfruit chocolate pisco is delicious. I could happily have worked my way through the entire line of piscos.



Of course, this is all clearly a big con to draw you in and get you to buy something and I'm not ashamed to say that it worked on me. I bought a couple of bars of delicious dark chocolate, one with sea salt and one with mango. Om nom nom. Not the cheapest, but it's so rich that it'll last me ages. Trying to save it for NaNoWriMo - I'm going to need the kick.

Following the chocolate overload, I headed away from the historic centre to see the site of Qorikancha, the Inca sun temple. However, I found the entrance to the museum blocked by an enormous school group and really didn't fancy dealing with the crowd, so I toddled back to the hostel instead.

Where I wrote something like 3,500 words of planning for the aforementioned NaNoWriMo. I'm a little bit obsessive about world building.

Fortunately, my attention was drawn away from doing any more writing by a nice evening of chat with other folks at the hostel. That and another couple of pisco sours. Well, if the hostel bar insists on having them on 2 for S/. 18 during Happy Hour, who am I to argue? After all, that's about £4. Om. Nom. Nom.

Pottery, pottery everywhere

My final day in Cusco I had a gloriously lazy morning (not due to hangover, I might add) during which I wrote ALL THE WORDS of intricate worldbuilding, and then toddled off in search of some way to spend my afternoon. The contemporary art museum was still closed, this time because it was a Sunday, so instead I made my way to the Museo del Arte Precolombino, just up from the Plaza de Armas.

The place wasn't included in my tourist ticket, but it was worth the entrance fee. It approaches pre-Columbian art from an artist's perspective as opposed to history, which was a little bit of a disappointment, but the pieces they have there are beautiful. The native cultures of South America produced some amazing art.

For example, this is a Chimu or Chancay vase. It looks like modern art to me, but dates from around 1200-1400AD, if my memory serves correctly.



This beautiful Moche piece, which is in imitation of a cactus, obviously.



The Moche pieces in particular were fascinating - they often created ceramics in the shape of plants and animals, so that part of the collection also includes this.



It's a potato. Clearly that crop was already important all the way back in the first millenium AD.

Enough of the pottery though. I'm sure most folks aren't quite as fascinated by these things as me and I'll admit that I was taking photos of prett much anything so that I could draw inspiration for various fictional cultures in my writing. Not a geek...

Following the awesome of that museum, I thought I'd make another attempt at getting into the Qorikancha site museum. This time I succeeded. Unfortunately, while there are some really interesting pieces in there, no photography was allowed. And the entire museum, which took me about 20 minutes to go through, all felt rather dated.



In addition, to see the remains of the Qorikancha sun temple, you have to pay an additional fee to the convent that's built on top of it. I figured I'd spent enough money on museums for the day and, knowing that I would be seeing more amazing sites over the next week or so, gave it a miss.

So I ended up back at the hostel where I spent far too long repacking my bags, before writing MOAR WORDS and finally ending my stay with a delicious Philly Cheesesteak, pisco sour and the US Presidential Debate. Interesting combination. The pisco sour was definitely required to deal with the ridiculousness of the debate.

Skull squish museum

On the Monday morning I dragged myself out of bed at stupid o'clock in the morning, had a minor freak out when my pre-booked taxi was 15 minutes late and made very bad small talk in even worse Spanish with the driver.

Fortunately, I still made it to my bus in time. Being really paranoid about getting places on time will do that. Struggling to stay awake, I mumbled a goodbye to a rather soggy looking Cusco as the bus set off higher into the Andes towards the town of Puno.

Now, I could have taken the cheaper option and gone straight from Cusco to Puno. But why would I do that when I could pay a few dollars more (OK, so more than a few. Still cheap) and make some stops along the way? Why on earth would I sit on a bus for 8 hours without seeing the amazing things I was passing?

First stop, the small town of Andahuaylillas, which is as hard to spell as it is to pronounce. Its star attraction is the 16th century church of San Pedro, known as the Sistine Chapel of the Americas.



Unfortunately, I only have exterior shots, because photography isn't allowed inside. I do have a disc which the staff gave out which apparently has interior shots, but given that I have no disc drive... yeah. You'll just have to take my word that it is amazing. For someone more used to English, plain old Anglican churches, it looks a bit tacky - it's all gold and shiny and covered in paintings. Very cool.

We made a second stop in Andahuaylillas at the tiny Museo Ritos Andinos. Courtesy of its large selection of deformed skulls, this has been immortalised in my memory as the skull squish museum. Yup. Look, a skelly with a squished skull.



The entire museum can be done in 10 minutes, absolute max, and that's as much because half the info is in Spanish only and it took me that long to translate enough to understand what it meant.

From Andahuaylillas we headed on south down the road, got stuck for a good half hour because of what looked like a pretty serious crash and finally made it to the little village of Checacupe, home to a suspension bridge.



Capilano, eat your heart art. Supposedly there's been a suspension bridge at this location since Inca times, although the current bridge is a bit of a cheat because it uses cables instead of the rope that would have been used traditionally. Still, there were plenty of people in my group who seemed hesitant to cross it. Be amazed - I was nice and resisted the urge to jump up and down and make it bounce.

The next stop was at Raqchi, also awkward to spell, site of the Incan Temple of Wiracocha, among an impressive array of ruins.



Wiracocha was the creator god of the Incas, and if the various guides I've had are to be believed, the only "god" - all other worshipped entities can be considered spirits of a sort, in line with an animist belief system. The site is also home to a lot of circular structures, thought to be storehouses. The sole reconstructed one proved to be very useful when it started bucketing down with rain.



Onwards down the road, we stopped again at Marangani, this time for lunch. I may have stuffed my face with soup and chicken and rice and sweet potato and pudding. And drunk large quantities of tea. Hey, it was included in the bus ticket, I had to make the most of it.

Climbing higher into the Andes, en route to the Altiplano, we stopped at La Raya, the highest point on the road and the border bewteen the departments of Cusco and Puno. Harold popped out for a minute just to prove he's still around.



And still it rained. From La Raya we had a somewhat boring ride out of the mountains and onto the Altiplano. It rained some more.

We finally stopped at Pukara to visit another little museum. Again, no photography allowed. What is it with this no photography thing? It's very annoying. Especially when there were some very cool pieces in that museum - both Inca and pre-Inca, including what I think were some Tiwanaku artefacts, the Tiwanaku culture being one the biggest powers in the area prior to the rise of the Inca.

There was also a funky looking church.



And then back on the bus for the final stretch to Puno, passing through the somewhat terrifying looking city of Juliaca on the way.



I could have flown from Cusco to Juliaca, but quickly decided against it when I read about all the crime and how dangerous it was. Glad I took the bus.

At last, 10 hours after departing Cusco, I arrived in Puno, successfully found a registered taxi at the bus station and made it to my hostel. Where I promptly nearly passed out on reaching my room because oh my god the altitude and oh my god three flights of stairs.

URGH.

The Return of the Storm

Ah yes, the return of my nemesis. But first, my plans for a lie in were foiled when I woke up at 7am in desperate need of breakfast. Much to my delight, breakfast at my hostel in Puno is the best I've had yet - cheese, ham, scrambled eggs, fresh bread, tomatoes, smoothies, ALL THE TEA.

After I'd had a nice cup of coca tea in an attempt to ward off the incoming altitude issues, I booked myself on a trip to Sillustani for the afternoon and proceeded to have a nice lazy morning to make up for the lack of lie in.

In the afternoon I was picked up for my trip to Sillustani, the only native English speaker on the bus. Fortunately, there were a couple of other people who preferred English over Spanish, so I got a bilingual tour.

On arrival, it started raining. By the time we walked from the car park to the base of the site, it was chucking it down and the wind was driving it sideways. Glad I thought to take my wooly hat with me. That bloody Storm. I thought I'd got rid of it.



Anyway, after 5 minutes, the Storm buggered off. Sillustani is the site of a complex of tower tombs ranging from small, Colla-built tombs that immediately preceded the Incas, to the huge structures built by the Inca themselves. I've noticed that restoration as opposed to preservation is popular in Peru, so here is one of the partially restored Inca tombs.



The tower itself doesn't contain the body - the burial is actually beneath the tower. There are also some even older burials on the site, this time in cists. We have similar burials in the UK. A cist is a hole lined with stone and then covered. Sometimes this is with a capstone, sometimes with a skin or wickerwork. The cists at Sillustani show up as small rings of stones sticking out of the ground.



Speaking of rings of stones, there's also a sun temple there. It's like a miniature Stonehenge, or possibly a very large sundial.



The smaller ring next to it is the moon temple, apparently and it's unfinished. Not much else to say aboout that one. With our trip to Sillustani completed, we piled back onto the bus and I took the opportunity to take a stupid selfie to demonstrate my excellently clashing fashion choices. Orange hat, purple scarf, green jumper. I am a fashion goddess.



Can't beat that hat. My ears were lovely and toasty. My innards got nicely toasty too at our next stop, which I hadn't known was included. Ten minutes down the road from Sillustani, we pulled over at a little house that looked like all the other little houses in the area. Adobe bricks, small buildings positioned around a courtyard.



There, the family showed us some of the local staples, including some delicious potatoes fresh out of the pot, fresh cheese and quinoa bread.



Quinoa is a ridiculously faddy thing in the UK and I've never had it in anything nice. Until I got to Peru, that is. I am not ashamed to say that I had a second helping of the quinoa bread. Om nom nom. Strangely, the selection also included a brown spread which I'm almost certain the guide said was made of earth. Like... mud? Still not entirely sure, but it was pretty good with the taters.

The family also keep guinea pigs, although these guys are definitely not pets. These are for eating. Just a shame they look so much like the one I had as a kid, which rather amused the guide.



And then back to Puno, where I had an email waiting for me to say that my two day trip out on Lake Titicaca was confirmed. Win.

IHMAIWTD

Wednesday started out OK. I sorted out getting some laundry done, did some writing, some booking of stuff.

And then my iPod started making the click of doom. This is generally a sign of the hard drive failing. I went into a bit of a meltdown. It really shouldn't have been a big deal, but I'm very attached to my music library and the iPod is the only place I have access to the whole lot. I need it for the moments when I feel like shit or I can't sleep.

So, yeah. Much freaking out. Much trying very hard not to crawl under the covers and cry. Much making myself feel sick with worry.

I had planned on going to a museum, but I couldn't get my brain to focus. I needed something to take my mind off the horrible clicking the iPod made every time I turned it on or off. So I treated myself to a nice lunch in the main square.



Look, more delicious quinoa-based things. How come we don't have nice quinoa dishes in the UK?

And then I ate some of the fancy chocolate I bought in Cusco. As I mentioned above, I'd wanted to save it for NaNoWriMo, but I needed endorphin-inducing food. It worked. Having stuffed myself with good food, I finally remembered that I have access to a large chunk of my library through Amazon, so that should keep me sane until I can work out what to do about the iPod.

On the downside, I'd stuffed myself with good food and my stomach did not appreciate it. Or possibly it was something else I'd eaten. Whatever the case, I spent the rest of the day and all night feeling rotten, if rather less anxious.

Hablas Espanol?

Fortunately, both anxiety and sickness had dissipated by the following morning. Which was great, because I had to get up early again to head out onto Lake Titicaca. First stop, the port, where I bought some water (for me) and apples (for my host family). I had no idea if apples were a suitable gift, but the guide assured us that fruit would be appreciated. Hmm...

And then our group of 13 piled onto a boat for the short trip out to the Uros Islands. These are the famous floating reed islands of Lake Titicaca, named for the Uru people.



We landed on Suma Willtja, where the president of the island, Joel, gave us a demonstration of how they construct the islands with layers of reeds. The reeds are also eaten and I can confirm that they taste a little bit like apple. Not bad.

After the demonstration, we were invited to see inside the houses, which I found a little bit uncomfortable, but the islands now rely heavily on tourism.

And then, to avoid being guilt-tripped in buying little trinkets I didn't want, I paid the S./10 to take a ride across the lagoon in the island's reed boat. Very relaxing.



A quick stop at the island across the lagoon for coca tea - a necessity at this altitude, methinks - and then we were off again on the three hour slog across the lake to Amantani, the biggest of Titicaca's islands.

There we were met by the ladies who would be hosting us for the night - the mamas, as our guide, Johnny, called them. I was grouped with a father and son from Sydney and soon we set off behind our mama, Epifania.



At the house, we met Epi's husband, Teodosio, who joined us for a lunch of quinoa soup followed by potatoes and cheese with a nice cup of munia tea and a basket of delicious quinoa bread. We soon established that out of the three of us, I spoke the most Spanish (by a small margin) so I ended up as unofficial translator. Somehow, I managed to work out most of what Teodosio was saying, which I was very pleased with.

After lunch, we headed down to the community's small library, where a young lady leads an after school initiative to teach the local kids additional reading, maths and basic English. The company I took the tour with contributes to the communities they house their clients in, which is part of the reason I chose to go with them. On our trip, the company was taking some tables and chairs to furnish the library.

We made our own small contribution to the kids' English learning by teaching them Jingle Bells. They seemed to do pretty well, although I did hear the occasional "Navidad, Navidad" which is how the song goes in Spanish.



Outside the library, the mamas showed us some of the weaving they do and also how they grind quinoa. Then it was time to head up the hill at the back of the community to view the sunset. Half of our group decided not to make the trek, so off went the rest of us and Johnny the guide, tramping up the hill. I was soon wishing I'd drunk more coca tea. Or, y'know, was just a little bit fitter. Johnny led us around a slightly less steep path, so we got a lovely view out across the lake, with just a hint of Bolivia's mountains in the far distance.



And, of course, the obligatory group photo in which I am pulling a weird face.



And still onwards, winding up to Pachatata and the ancient ceremonial centre on the hilltop. I was pleased to see I wasn't the only one struggling with the hill and the altitude, but it was certainly worth it when we got to the top.



While busy with other groups, it wasn't that crowded or noisy that you couldn't appreciate the beautiful view. Here is the sun going down over Peru, from the highest point on Amantani.



So worth it. And once we got back to the house, Epi and Teodosio were ready with dinner. A potato soup for starters, followed by a pasta dish. Just what we needed after trekking up that hill. We managed an almost conversation over the meal, in broken Spanish on our part, and the occasional snippet of English from Teodosio. I did establish that the couple have two sons who live in Puno and that Teodosio wouldn't see us in the morning because he had to leave early to go to Puno to see the kids. See, I must have picked up more Spanish than I thought.

We also handed over our fruit gifts. I am super rubbish with body language, but I think our hosts were pleased.

Dinner was followed by a glorious early night during which I managed to snuggle myself into my sleeping bag, under the blankets and somehow didn't overheat. It was beautifully cosy.

So. Many. Hills

After an amazing night's sleep, first stop was breakfast with Epi, Teodosio having already left for Puno. Breakfast consisted of quinoa pancakes and jam. Most delicious. I made a slip up in my Spanish, because I misheard Epi and my brain did a stupid. What Epi said was "Quiera tiene mas?", which I realised later in the day means "do you want more?" and was clearly in regard to whether we wanted any more pancakes.

What I heard was "Quiera tiene?" and without that mas on the end, my brain just coulldn't work out what she meant. It didn't help that I think she tapped her wrist as she said it, so I came to the completely wrong conclusion that she'd asked for the time. She didn't seem too worried when I told her it was 7am...

Fortunately, I didn't have much time to worry aboout my dodgy Spanish, because we were soon off back down to the little harbour to begin our next adventure. Epi was spinning wool the entire way down the hill. I was most impressed by her multitasking.



And then it was time to say goodbye to the mamas and board the boat. Obligatory group photo time again.



Our only stop on this day was the second largest island in the lake, Taquile. Taquile is much more geared up for tourism than Amantani, but without feeling like kitsch central. First task: climb the hill from the dock to the Plaza de Armas.

For some of our group, this was more than a little difficult, but we all made it in the end. I'm glad to say that after the previous night's trek up to Pachatata, this was relatively easy.



We had some free time in the Plaza, which I made the most of by losing a good 15 minutes in the knitted goods shop. There is a tradition on Taquile of the men knitting. I have no idea who made the amazing gloves and scarf that I bought, but I can be certain they were made on Taquile - everything in the shop was island-made.



I couldn't resist - there's frigging llamas and alpacas on them and the fingers of the gloves are all different colours. Plus, the gloves are made of alpaca wool. I'd been looking out for something of this type the entire time I've been in Peru and once I heard about Taquile's crafts, I knew this was going to be a good place to find something.

As it's going to be spring/summer in a lot of the places I'm visiting from now onwards, I have no idea when I'll get the chance to wear them. But the pretties. And also, supporting local communities.

OK, I'm shutting up about the woollens now.



From there it was just a short, thankfully flat, walk around the island to our lunch stop. Lunch with a view, which I suspect is unavoidable on Taquile - wherever you are on this island, I'm sure you'd see the sea.



Lunch consisted of quinoa soup with quinoa bread and salsa for starters.



Followed by trout from the lake. I'll admit that while the trout was yummy, I really struggled with all the bones. My parents will tell you that I get a bit weird as soon as I find a bone in a fish and it then takes me ages to eat the rest of it, if I eat it at all.



I was pretty impressed that I ate as much of that trout as I did.  Altogether, that meal was pretty good for S./ 20 - that's about £5.

After that, it was a simple case of walking down the other side of the island to another dock and our 3 hour boat ride back to Puno. While Machu Picchu was amazing and the main reason I chose to include Peru on this trip, I think this trip on Lake Titicaca has been my real highlight.

My blissful feeling was somewhat marred on return to the hostel, where I found the place overrun with programmers or developers or something. Not that they were unfriendly, but they were loud and they were taking up all the room in the common area. I wolfed down my tea and disappeared back to my room where I had another early night. I'd need it for my stupidly early bus in the morning...


My final week in Peru is looming. I'm heading to Arequipa next, the country's second largest city. No real plans as yet...

Mostly looking forward to the drop in altitude...

Friday, 12 August 2016

Canada: Far over the [Misty] Mountains cold...

Wow. This was my final week of solo travel in Canada. By the time this is posted, I'll have retrieved my mum and sister from the airport for a 2 week road trip through the Rockies.

Anyway, that's for next week. Let's have a look at what I've been doing this week, shall we?

Tiny winged demons

While I did technically have a full day in Edmonton the day I arrived, I wasted that being tired and lethargic. So Saturday, my first non-knackered day in the city, I decided to go for a wander down to the river I'd seen on the way to the hostel.



This is the North Saskatchewan River. It's... quite big. On the southern side, where I was staying, there's a whole series of parks along the bank with plenty of trails, so I took a nice two hour stroll through there. Some really gorgeous views.



The only slight drawback of wandering through woods near a big river was the inevitable attack by tiny winged demons. Usually known as gnats/midges/mozzies. I don't know which ones they were. The important thing is I hadn't even thought about putting on insect repellent and as a result had grown an extra elbow by the following morning, alongside an assortment of other bite-induced lumps. Yay.

The hostel had advertised the evening as "Wine and Cheese Night". So I figured I'd filch myself some free cheese and maybe a glass of wine. There was no cheese left when I popped in about 10 minutes after the advertised start. There was wine.

My Slovenian roommate pulled a face and said it tasted more like sangria and I'm inclined to agree. Not complaining - first alcohol since I left the UK and free to boot. It went all right with my linguine.

Attack of the muse

The annoying gnat bites may go some way towards explaining why I was rather less inclined to go exploring on Sunday. Well, that and the fact that my writing muse suddenly decided to wake up again after taking a week off after Camp NaNoWriMo. 
Instead of exploring I ended up writing several thousand words about the languages in the fictional universe I'm working in at the moment.



Yeah. And then when I did finally decide to go and have a look around Strathcona, the lovely old area around the hostel, I ended up in a second hand bookshop and had to escort myself back to the hostel before I spent ALL THE MONEY. I did get a Terry Pratchett book out of it though...

And then I wrote some more.

Write All The Words

Yeah, so Monday ended up being much the same as Sunday with the added bonus of possibly solving my Seattle-West Yellowstone transport problem. Hurrah.

I think I wrote about 5000 words. This is a lot of words. Most of them were rubbish, but at least my brain is back in writing mode. I like my brain in writing mode. It's more fun.

I managed another short exploratory foray into Strathcona, where I discovered that some of the pedestrian crossings are rainbows.



My brain made some sort of Mario Kart Rainbow Road reference. It wasn't all that funny, because my brain is not good at making the funnies.

Reasoning that I'd want an early night because of the horrible 7:37am train the next day, I turned in far earlier than usual, failed to get to sleep until after midnight because my brain is a bitch and then was rudely awoken at 4am by the return of...

The Mother of All Storms

For those who missed out on the New Zealand expedition madness, the Mother of All Storms, also known simply as The Storm, was a massive thunderstorm which followed us around the South Island for a few days with scary ass lightning and the loudest thunder I've ever heard. I'm sure the same storm has started following me across Canada, starting in Ottawa (or possibly even Montreal), getting worse in Winnipeg and now Edmonton...

Well, I'm pretty sure lightning struck the street outside the hostel. The gap between the flash of lightning and the thunder going BOOM (seriously, BOOM, not rumble rumble. BOOM) was pretty much non-existent. So I didn't really get much sleep. Fun times.

I hate that storm.

At least that meant I was awake in plenty of time to get my taxi back to the station. The train arrived nearly on time and then I was off on my way to Vancouver, via the Rockies. A bit of a damp morning, but then we hit the mountains and it was beautiful.



I couldn't resist putting the Lord of the Rings soundtracks on as the scenery slid past the windows. I can't wait until I get to explore the mountains in the next couple of weeks.

Only stop of the day was at the tourist hub of Jasper, which is a pretty little place. The train got cleaned out there, so I had an hour to wander round and find an awesome bakery where I found myself some cakey goodness. I would have taken a photo of it, but I was seriously craving sweetness, so I ate it before I had a chance. It was a Nanaimo Square and most scrumptious.

Also in Jasper, I noted that they'd added a third locomotive to the front of the train. Given that there were already two up there to get us to Jasper, I figured this meant we'd be doing quite a lot of climbing and descending on our way to Vancouver.

Unfortunately, I turned round from geeking about the locos to find The Storm bearing down on us again.



About 10 minutes after I took that photo, while we were all milling about waiting to get on the train, The Storm arrived. Rarely have I seen such big raindrops. The crew weren't quite ready to let us board, but with the rain coming down hard, they decided not to wait and there was a bit of a free for all. Suffice to say, by the time I got onto the train, I was soaked.

And then, on top of being sodden, I had to move because some pathetic couple just couldn't bear to sit separately for a few hours. I would probably not have been so pissed off about this if I hadn't been a) soaked and b) operating on about 4 hours sleep. I wouldn't have minded sharing the two seater I'd claimed on boarding at Edmonton, but being made to move rankled.

So I migrated to the cafe car instead, along with a whole bunch of other people who'd had to move to accommodate groups and pairs. We ended up having an impromptu music session courtesy of Catarina from Australia and John from Canada, who kept us entertained with a whole assortment of songs for a good two or three hours.



In the meantime, some wonderful things were going past the windows, but courtesy of the lights reflecting in the windows, I don't have many good photos. This is one of the better ones.



I hung around in the cafe car until about 10pm, staying awake through the consumption of large cups of tea and the residual effects of my sugar-rich deliciousness from Jasper. Which meant I got to see the moon looking pretty over the mountains, although my photo does not do it justice.



And then time for sleep. Well. It should have been time for sleep. You try sleeping next to a both quite tall and rather broad gentleman (lovely guy, but oh my god, the man-spreading) and across from a guy who snored all night. You know how most peoeple, when they snore, do so for a little while and then sort of snort a bit and stop? Yeah. This guy didn't. He just snored. All. Fucking. Night. Man-spreading dude I could deal with because I'm little and the seats are quite big. Snoring man, not so much. I was very close to clubbing him over the head with a walking boot.

Sleep? What sleep?

Suffice to say, I was not in the best of moods when I woke up from another small doze at 6am. I retreated once again to the cafe car, downed another cup of tea and tried to think happy thoughts. This is remarkably hard when you've had about 8 hours sleep in the last 48.

Fortunately, the scenery was still busy being pretty. Reminded me quite a bit of Canterbury in New Zealand - probably to do with the big plain surrounded by mountains.



And then into Vancouver. Finally. This means I've near enough gone from one coast of Canada to the other, if we ignore the fact that I didn't get to Newfoundland. I am rather pleased about this.

Unfortunately, my lack of sleep may have triggered the weird anxiety I get about crowds, which meant waiting to pick up my bag at the station was hell for the 5 minutes I managed before running away to a quieter waiting area for a bit. And I'd been doing so well with crowds so far. How annoying.

On the other hand, the hostel I'm staying at had provided excellent directions and the public transport system in Vancouver is (at that time at least) both efficient and quiet. No huge crowds waiting to freak me out. Hurrah.

I spent the rest of the day first exploring a bit of Jericho Park, which the hostel sits in...



And then sleeping. Because, oh my god, I needed it. And then I read my new Terry Pratchett book (the Discworld Companion. Very good for a reference book) and then I slept some more.

Hurrah.

I'm sure there's a park around here somewhere...

Having had so much sleep the day before, Thursday was a rather more pleasant experience. First, I had a lovely (unhealthy) breakfast at the little cafe attached to the hostel.

It was basically a Full English, with a scone (called a biscuit for some reason...) instead of toast. And it was wonderful. However, I probably needed to do something about burning off all those calories, so I decided to go in search of the Pacific Spirit Regional Park, which Google reliably informed me was a mere half hour walk away.



So I toddled off up the hill, through the residential areas. And kept going. And kept going some more. And I think I found the park. Only, I couldn't find a way in (possibly just being my unobservant self) and I'd rather underestimated how warm it was. It had felt quite mild when I left the hostel, but by the time I got up to where the park was supposed to be, wearing jeans was turning out to be a bad move.

So I gave up and settled for coming back to the hostel and getting my laundry done. Thrilling.

No worries. I made up for my complete lack of activity by going down to the beach at sunset and enjoying the view. Definitely worth it, although my photos don't really do it justice. This is the view down the bay out towards the ocean.



And this is the Vancouver skyline, which looked awesome on the little screen on my camera, but sadly is rather less in focus when blown up.



And finally, the little cafe/restaurant on the waterfront.



I haven't seen nearly enough sunsets yet. I need more sunsets in my life.

Delayed...

As mentioned at the top, at the time this is posted, I should be retrieving my mum and sister from the airport. At the time of writing, the flight's delayed by nearly an hour. Which might mean me locating a cafe at the airport and drinking copious amounts of tea. We'll see.

In the next week, I'll be going on a motorhome road trip with Mum and Amy, from Vancouver up into the Rockies. Back into the [Misty] Mountains cold...