So
I went on vacation. This is actually kind of a big deal, for two
reasons. First, because I haven't done so in a couple of years,
trying to take the opportunity to work as much as I can so I can pay
for education-type pursuits. Second, it was a big deal because it was
my first independent vacation.
True,
I planned and went on this trip with my brother. But it wasn't to
visit a location that my parents had determined, it wasn't tagging
along with relatives for a weekend trip, it wasn't for some school
planned shindig. We said "hey, let's do a vacation-thing",
we planned it, we carried it out. Considering my age and the fact
that this is the first time I've done anything of the sort, it's
kind of sad.
And
this vacation, unfortunately, cost money. Of which I've been spending far too much over the last four months. I'm supposed to be saving
for school, and instead I've been failing miserably.
Anyways.
We decided to drive down to Portland for no other reason than I had
heard that Portland's a neat place to be. And Seattle is on the way,
so why no check that out too? And hey, apparently the Oregon coast
is kinda nice, so maybe we could try that while we were at it.
That's
about as much as we had figured out when the hotels were booked. We
had a few other notions for things to do, but those weren't really
cemented until days before we actually drove down.
I
flew into a small local airport, where my brother was set to pick me
up before we'd leave the next morning. He was late, so I was left by
myself at the baggage carousel while people milled around waiting
for their belongings to arrive. I was idly strumming and plucking
away at the ukulele I had in my hands for some time before a
gentlemen about 6-7 meters away called for me to play. So I did.
Nothing fancy, just sauntering through the same chord progressions I
had already been doing, but now with a bit more gusto. As if I was
letting the notes acknowledge that they had a right to exist and be
heard. Some people stole quick glances at me before turning away. I
think that, for the most part, no one really cared. That old man
didn't say anything or look my way again. But there's something in
how he simply told me to "play" that stuck with me.
The
next day we left from the Fraser Valley and went to the Sumas border
crossing into the United States. The sign said the wait was 5-10
minutes. It took us about an hour and a half to finally get to the
crossing itself, which we were ushered through in the course of about
45 seconds. We got some cheap-o American gas, drove, picked up some
snacks, and then drove some more. In our small, black (or dark grey)
Hyundai of a heat box, we drove right into the tail-end of a heat
wave. You knew it was warm when putting your hand/arm out of the
window while driving 60mph instantly made you feel hotter than
keeping inside the mobile Korean sauna. Blech. But we powered through
it.
We
got into Portland in the late afternoon, and went to Powell's Books
in downtown Portland. It's a MASSIVE book store, with huge
departments for various genres. There were sections devoted to both
WWII Aviation and WWII Aircraft. That was difficult to be pried
away from. There was also a healthy art/design section. The rare
books room was fascinating (hand made publications that were ~600
years old...). And, of course, there was a healthy science-fiction
section. It reminded me of going book shopping with my Aunt as a
kid. For Christmas she'd usually treat us out for a day, which
included raiding book shops for some fresh sci-fi (particularly Star
Wars). And that smell of books and paper immediately flooded back to
me when I stepped into this massive bookstore. One of the cool
things about Powell's Books is that they have new and used stock
sitting side by side. I picked up a compilation of all four
Hitchicker's Guide to the Galaxy books. I chose a used blue
hardcover with frayed and slightly yellowed pages. It was cheaper,
sure, but it felt like it had more of a story behind it than just
the Adam' finely crafted words. I liked that feeling of
caring for something that had already once been very loved.
With
4-5 books between the two of us, we paid and went to check into the
hotel. We noticed that it had a pool, and decided that after supper
we'd go for a swim to de-grease after the hot and sticky drive. So
after much humming and haw-ing, we Googled up a local mexican
restaraunt (which, on the US west coast, seem to be every other
block). The cuisine was delicious. Slightly expensive, but good
nonetheless. I ate more than I should've. A younger me wouldn't have
struggled with it. Either way, we returned to the hotel, where I
collapsed on the bed until morning. We didn't go swimming.
The
next day we got up bright and early, scarfed down the continental
breakfast, and fled the city in a westward direction to go to the
Evergreen Air and Space Museum. All we knew is that they had the
Spruce Goose, some WWII stuff, and some rocket/space stuff. And
wowza, we weren't disappointed. The Goose itself was worth the $15
admission. The thing is MASSIVE. Like, massively massive. Comically
so. As if it was a joke to say "Hahaha, wouldn't it be hilarious
if someone made a plane THIS BIG?!" Or, alternatively, it's the
stuff you'd see in fantasy or science fiction works, where they conjure up these morbidly colossal contraptions of scale that defies
all reason. It was that big. Entire planes could fit underneath a
single tail. Collections under a wing. No kidding, there was a B-17,
that was positively dwarfed by the thing.
Oh,
the B-17. Gorgoeus plane as-is. But we were there shortly before
noon, when the sun came pouring in from the overhead skylights, and
draped itself upon the bare, polished aluminum of the beautiful
beast. My word. I don't think I've seen such a moving and
awe-inspiriing aviation sight in person. The way that the rivits
glittered, and the reflections waltzed along the fuselage... Truly
amazing. The gem of the trip, for sure.
The
rest of the collection was impressive, no doubt. There was a
Spitfire, but it was painfully tucked into a far corner so that you
couldn't get around it. A lot of other common sights of the 1940's
European skies: A Lightning, Mustang, Warhawk, FW190, BF109, ME262,
etc etc. Then there were some jets and helicopter stuff. Cool, sure,
but it doesn't quite capture my heart the same way as the old
warbirds. The space side of things was more to my brother's liking,
with a bunch of rockets and... Space stuff. There were a lot of
engines on display, which were pretty cool just for their textures
and patterns of mechanical wizardry. They had a Blackbird there,
which was cool to walk around. And for some reason, there was also a
Mustang Mach 1. A bit out of place, but hey, no complaints there.
We
walked around the perimeter of the grounds, inspecting the weathered
aircraft that wern't so lucky as to deserve a place indoors, before
heading out. We stopped at a fruit stand on the way out, having
fresh cherries and blueberries for lunch alongside some small 6"
fruit pies. Good stuff - not an elegant meal by any stretch, but no
less delicious. While we were making our selection, an elderly
couple approached us and mentioned they saw us in the museum. We
exchanged brief, friendly remarks about the phenominal collection
before parting ways and heading back into the city.
We
went to the science center, OMSI. It was $2 for admission and $3 for
parking, so why not? There were a lot of kids, it was busy. I
remember when I was younger, those types of museums would totally
capture my imagination and seemed like such an incredible place to
me. Now... Not so much. That magic has gone. There was some to be
found in the odd glimpse when you got one workstation/exhibit to
yourself for a few precious seconds before the next kid came up and
took charge, but those were pretty rare. Oh well.
Then
we walked around the city for a solid hour and a half. Admired the
architecture. Observed how young the people on the streets seemed to
be (our age, probably, but as outsiders we seemed more than a little
disconnected from them). The city is gorgeous, with a beautiful
river, cobbled streets, trees. Lots of little shops. Packs of
homeless people. Friends in a park. Lots of bridges, running back and
forth over the waterways as if someone had thrown down a handful of
limp spaghetti noodles and then exclaimed "CITY PLANNING!" It was
terrible getting back and forth, and it was made worse by the
construction that forced us to take a 15 minute detour just to
perform a U-turn and get back to the exit we had missed.
Then
we went into a sandwhich shop for supper before heading back towards
the hotel. On the way we picked up some drinks and a cooler, so that
our precious beverages that were kept in the fridge wouldn't fall
victim to the brutal heat.
The
next day we got up and scarfed down some more continental breakfast
("Mmm, tastes like free!") before starting our drive to
Seattle. Rather than taking the main freeway, though, we decided to
go west until we hit the coast and turned northward. On our way to
the coast, we drove through the Tilamook Forest. Lots of trees and
hills and other such nature things. Early on, we were triving and
caught flashing glimpses of a little stream hiding behind the line of
trees at the side of the road. After a couple of these teasing
glances, we hastily pulled over at the next small rest stop (more
than anything it was just an abnormally large shoulder with enough
pavement to accomodate a parked car out of the line of highway
traffic).
We
got out, stumbled down the embankment, and came upon an incredibly
peaceful and picturesque slice of nature. Moss, trees, rocks, and a
babbling little brook. Water cascaded through smooth stones, and paused to
form pools that went for green to blue to black with the depth. It
was seredipitous that we stumbled on something that incredible after
stopping on a whime at the side of the road. It was a gorgeousmoment. I felt like I was eight years old again. And if we didn't
have to be anywhere and if I wasn't carrying $1000 in photography
equipment, I would've been perfectly content to slip off my shoes,
roll up my pantlegs, and go mucking about up and down stream all day.
After a time of shooting and just sitting in awe of this inspiring
little scene, we scampered back up the embankment, got in the car,
and headed out.
The
rest of the day was... Long, but wonderful. We stopped at CannonBeach, to gaze up and down the coast, and walk over the sand
barefoot. After inhaling the ocean air and breathing in memories from
childhood that were full of those familiar scents of the sea, we
packed up and continued on the road.
For
all of ten minutes, until we reached a roadside vista high on the
side of the mountain. It gave presented us with a spectacular
top-down view of beach we just visited, along with the most expansiveof panoramics, stretching from mountain to town to beach to sea to
the lazy curve of the horizon, hiding out beyond miles and miles of
Pacific ocean.
And
we continued on, through mountainside roads, swamps, flats, rolling
hills, lazy coastal towns... Just kept on pluggin' away, letting
those dotted yellow lines blink away underneath the wheels. At one
point we paused to eat at the “Try-Hard Diner”, as we came to
call it. We can't remember its actual name, but all we came away with
was a stomach full of mediocre food and eyes overloaded with the most
tacky of 50s-era decor. It seemed like anything/everything that the
proprietors had ever stumbled on that even remotely resembled the
vintage aesthetic was proudly tacked onto a wall of this fine
establishment.
So
we drove on, flirting with the overhead cloud cover. At one point
after crossing into Washington, we missed a turnoff and ended up
taking a short loop around a small peninsula. And this serendipitous
mistake helped us to stumble on the Grays Harbor Lighthouse, the
largest such building in the state. We saw signs declaring this feat
to passers-by, and being passers-by ourselves, we figured we'd take a
closer look. And after arriving at the end of the day for the sweet
old lady manning the lighthouse and paying $5 apiece for the tour, we
took a trip up the structure. Up along the spiralling staircase we'd
pause several times to hear more trivia before reaching the top and
getting to gaze into the magnificent Fresnel lens. The rich turquoise
of the glass exploded light into prismatic rainbows, and the circular
and symmetrical arrangement of the lens created an unexpected treat
of colour and pattern. Such incredible beauty, now long obsolete by
the small module mounted out the window that was the size of a small
loaf of bread. Lens, emitter, GPS, wireless communications, internal
electronics, and all. The idle Fresnel, by contrast, must've been two
to three feet wide.
We
eventually pulled into Seattle later than evening, after accidentally
turning off the highway to switch drivers and ending up in a military
base we were promptly escorted out of. So we checked into the hotel
rather road-weary, made some loose plans for the next day, ate the
remaining cherries and blueberries from the fruit stand, and
basically turned into zombies for the rest of the evening. Watched
some underwhelming Olympic coverage. Every athlete has a sob story
and is practically guaranteed a podium finish. Didn't you know?
The
next day, we plummeted ourselves into downtown Seattle, where we
somehow ended paying $15 to park for four hours while we inspected a
couple of the attractions in the vicinity. First up was the
Experience Music Project. We immediately headed to the basement to
see the science-fiction exhibit. Darth Vader's lightsaber, Neo's
trenchcoat, a facehugger, Yoda's cane, Data's uniform, and a myriad
of handheld weapons from a slew of big sci-fi movies and TV shows. I
immediately wish I would've brought my camera, even though the
lighting was so low that I knew I would've botched all the shots.
Then
we went upstairs, greeted by a tornado-like sculpture made of guitars
and all sorts of musical instruments. An AC/DC exhibit, a Nirvana
exhibit, a Rolling Stones exhibit. Cool, I guess. I'm not
particularly a big fan of any of those, but I'm sure that if I was,
they would've been quite captivating. Well curated exhibits, just not
my slice of cake in terms of subject matter. Then there was a gallery
showing the evolution of the guitar, which while neat, was rather
useless without paying the extra $5 for the audio tour which would've
actually let us hear what sounds the darn instruments made. They had
a studio section, though, where there was a bunch of common rock
instruments hooked up with simple tutorials for people to work
through. I tried turntables, an electric guitar, and mucked around
with a mixing board for a time. That was pretty fun – I could've
spent a lot of time in that section.
Then
we left and walked across the plaza to the Seattle Science Center. Lo
and behold, there was a large exhibition of ancient Egyptian
artifacts, with particular emphasis on relics from the tomb of King
Tutankhamen himself. Old statues. Busts. Ceremonial instruments,
sandals, jewelry, lots of jewelry. Jewelry of the most exquisite
craftsmanship, from a time far
before the likes of power tools. The one jewelry/metal-working class
I took probably had less in common with what I was looking at than
more. Here were these wonderfully dazzling pieces that were, in some
cases, more than 3000 years old. It seems so distant. The kind of
thing you read about in boring textbooks. But then I looked at a
golden mantle, with fine hatched lines around the perimeter. And when
I looked as close as I could, I saw that one of these hatched lines
was slightly crooked, off maybe 10-15 degrees from its neighbours.
And all of the sudden, I could imagine some poor goldsmith slowly
etching strokes in the afternoon heat, urging his hand to keep a
steady composure. The whole exhibit seemed to become so much more
human from that point on. Sure, all the glittering materials and fine
workmanship is impressive and a testament to amazing skill. But the
story, for me, was hiding in the imperfections.
Weirdest
of all, I noticed, was the younger generation of pre-teens that went
through the entire exhibit... Looking at the works through the screen
of their iPhone, which had the camera on. They'd take a picture and
move on without actually looking
at what was in front of them, as if they were just on some kind of
scavenger hunt to collect photographs of all the pieces in the
exhibit. This struck me as really odd, for some reason.
We
finished the exhibit and went through the science center, which was
fairly similar to OMSI in Portland. Some neat stuff, but... We didn't
manage to conjure up that magical sense of wonder we seemed to recall
having at such things when we were younger. So we left the grounds
getting infinitely more enjoyment out of the ancient Egyptian relics
than we did from interactive science exhibits. Apparently we're
getting old.
Then
we grabbed a (slightly above mediocre) burger at a non-Try Hard Diner
and drove to Bellevue. For those unfamiliar with the area, it's an
area in Seattle, just slightly... Less in Seattle. Why go to Bellevue?
A date with destiny. Or, rather, Valve Software.
When
I received the email response agreeing to our humble request for a
tour, I bounced around the office and told approximately everyone
of the news. I haven’t been that excited in a loooong time. You
see, I have a pretty solid fixation with Valve. It used to be all
about their games, and it's not hard to guess why – Half-Life 1 and
2, TF2, Portal (oh man, Portal...), Left 4 Dead... They have an
impressive portfolio. But gradually over the last three or so years
as I've followed my education to be a designer, I've slowly but
surely become more fixated on the how
of Valve. The games are still cool, of course, only now the big draw
is how they operate as a company. Their culture, creative process,
environment, hiring standards, business decisions, etc. This
fascination was kicked into high-gear when they recently had their
new
employee handbook leaked. I admire their work, how they think,
how they operate. I find it all utterly captivating. I can only hope
that some day I'll be of the calibre to apply and merit the response
of even a phone interview. So to get to go on a tour behind the
scenes of this center of my fascination... It made me jump out of my
seat.
And
that's how we found ourselves in Bellevue on a Tuesday afternoon. And after stepping off the elevator into the lobby, my heart immediately sank when I realized that we were part of a larger tour group of about a dozen other fans. It was selfish to assume that it'd be an intimate tour for tour, and I'm sure that they get enough requests to make organized tours the way to go. We all sauntered around the office, inspecting the Atlas model on the table, the icons of the laser-cut metal sign, caught glimpses of the Half-Life 2 crossbow behind the desk, and flipped through the large book of company concept art sitting on the table. And yes, I turned the massive red valve in the lobby (which, if you're familiar with the two famous company splash screens, with a valve on the back of a man's head and the other in place of an eye, represents opening your mind and your eyes). Before long, the woman sitting behind the desk announced that the tour would begin and told us that this was all a simple look into how Valve operates as a company. I drank it up. Truth be told, very little of it was new from what I had read in the handbook and seen in various photos online. But it was neat to see it in person, even if we were just lead around various hallways and weren't let in to see the studios where the magic happened. Again, the free tour was above and beyond what I'd expect for such a well-known company, and I wouldn't expect them to let anyone in to see where the actual development takes place. So no word on any upcoming release. We saw a wall full of hats outside of the Team Fortress 2 area and Left 4 Dead concept art using celebrity faces to determine the character's feel. Throughout the office and hanging on the wall were massive pieces of wood (36x48" and larger is my guess) with pieces of concept art and in-game assets/graphics printed out. It was a really striking way to decorate the office, in addition to the vivid orange paint. What else... We saw a bulletin board where they rotated through fan art and letters, the cafeteria with a kitchen that was practically a fully-stocked convenience store, a hallway full of awards... Really, nothing that hasn't been shown in some of the several articles about Valve's headquarters.
At the end when we were back in the lobby for last questions before the end of the tour it became just how obvious it was that the other fellow-fans in the tour... were the typical socially-awkward brand of gamer (and what else would you expect from someone fanatical enough to email for a tour?). The questions covered the topic of Half-Life 3 (seriously, why even bother asking?) as well as awkward jokes about Gabe's knife collection. I thought it was pretty dumb, considering how at the beginning of the tour the guide explicitly told us that she'd only really talk about the nature of how the company was run. I tried to ask a few related questions to open up the guide and see where she'd go with things, but it seems like the pressure from the others in the group kinda cut that line of discussion short. I wish I would've persisted and asked more questions. Oh well. Eventually we were given small/simple Learning with Portals backpacks and told we were free to roam the lobby before leaving. I had prepped a custom solar-powered lantern for Valve which I gave to our guide, who gave me a polite thank you. We grabbed our bag, got our parking validated, and left.
We went to a nearby mall to park, and spent the next couple hours walking around (after my brother picked up a jacket and we poked into the Microsoft and Lego stores for kicks) a nearby plaza with a stepped fountain working its way along the perimeter. Me and my brother discussed what we saw and went over how we supposed more of the day-to-day operations went. We came up with several questions we wish we would've asked, and stated our mutual dismay at the group of fellow gamers we were lumped in with. All in all, the tour was a neat experience. Not quite as mind-blowing as I had hoped, but I came to the conclusion that I'd like to ask for a tour again in the future and stick to my guns about asking what I wanted to know. Next time.
Then we went and found a small fast-food fish-and-chips joint for supper, drove to the waterfront to eat, and then returned to our hotel to pack up and get ready for the next day.
That morning we went for a pancake breakfast (which, for some reason, was not an insignificant point of order for the trip) before setting off. It was much shorter than the previous drive between Portland and Seattle, but we cut out to follow the coast a little ways on our way up to the border. Again there were some beautiful vistas along the way. One was along a wonderfully twisty road covered in a canopy of trees. It was driving bliss, even in an automatic econobox. I'd like to drive it again some day. Eventually we landed back in our native country and went to visit our parents at a campsite. We sat and chatted for a while and started up an impromptu fire to roast some hot dogs. There's a smell/taste I haven't had in a while. As the sun was starting to set, we headed back to my brother's place where I sifted through and edited photos for the rest of the night.
The next day we got up and went to my parent's place where me and my brother met up with our father and loaded up his small blue Ford Ranger with three kayaks. We then drove on out to a secluded-ish lake in the bush, unpacked, and paddled around the perimeter and noodled around for a couple hours. It was rather fun and gave you a solid sense of freedom. You could look at anything along the glassy surface of the water and say "I want to check that out" and then just... Go. Nothing stopping you, and a million little nooks and crannies to discover along the way. Eventually we packed up and went home. After our mom arrived back from a hair appointment, we went out to my favouritest pizza joint in the whole world that I haven't been to in... A couple years, at least. I tells ya - greek pizza to die for. I've never had any other pizza remotely that good. Then me and my brother returned home, and I plugged away at sorting my photos for the rest of the night.
The next day we went to spend the day in Vancouver
with my sister. We drove to the outer-city and took public transit the
rest of the way in, and upon arriving we went to an amusement park. I
promptly decided that vertical Gs are not my slice of tea. This was
determined in the time it took to ride a roller coaster and a swinging
ship. I didn't really enjoy the sensation of briefly becoming airborne
within my seat of the roller-coaster (more than a few times), and my gut
didn't seem to do well when swinging forward on the ship (backwards,
however, didn't seem to be much of a problem). So all three of us
enjoyed some of the more sedate rides, and had a genuinely good time of
the kiddie roller coaster. I was the only one brave enough to go on the
swings that rotated after lifting you up several stories above the
grounds. It was stated not to carry anything that might fall, so I
slipped my shoes off before getting on. There was something oddly
satisfying about feeling the wind in your toes from such a height.
Then we walked
around a downtown-ish district in hunt of a pirogi lunch truck that
drove away just as we were approaching. So we went to a fantastic little
fry/poutine shop instead. Along the way I saw two 911 Turbos, one of
which was white with while wheels and a beige interior. With a child's seat
in the back. Gorgeous car. There was also a Ferrari 458, Aston Marton
DBS, Lotus Exige, and a Maserati SomethingOrOther. I love me some good
car spotting.
Then we went to
my sister's wee basement sweet for a bit before connecting with her
boyfriend and heading out to the Richmond Night Market. It's the largest
night market in North America, apparently. I was kind of disappointed -
not because it was small per se, but that claim of superiority set some
sort of intangible expectation in my mind. In reality, it was row upon
row of cheap Chinese crap. Cellphone accessories, sunglasses, toys,
makeup and jewelry, prints. Lather, rinse, repeat. There were some As
Seen on TV booths to spice things up and a large row of very
Asian food vendors (octopus on a stick? Check. Small carton of fried
tentacles? Check.). After a couple hours we left. Neat experience, sure,
but I was disappointed there was nothing there really worth buying. The
vendors weren't even interested in haggling, so... What was the point?
The next day was really low-key. I got up late, and spent most of my morning trying to make sense of the photos I had taken thusfar. Once the early afternoon rolled around, we once again drove out to my parent's place. The day before I had messaged my mom and summoned the Ghost of Birthdays Past, and convinced her to make me home-made sweet and sour pork for supper with angel food cake and fluff for dessert (fluff, of course, is a concoction of jello, whipped cream and fruit). I had a craving for just these things the previous day while out in the city, and leveraged whatever guilt-points I had to get my mother to make it for me in the name of the birthday dinners I've missed since moving out. It worked.
Before this splendid meal, though, both my brother and I went down into our old room to sort through some Old Boxes of Crap We Had Totally Forgot About. Just trying to put a dent in the mountain of useless belongings we'd never need, you know? Old schoolwork, my first Batmobile Matchbox, an old set of markers... Ugh. I was practically drowning in memories.
After the meal we left as the sun was setting. And for one last adventurous hurrah, we decided to visit a large waterfall outside of my home town. It was a little bit out of the way, but we drove to the side of a mountain, parked, and took a lazy 10 minute hike upwards. It was a wonderful scene, to be hidden underneath the shadow of the forest and look up at a waterfall that was shimmering with the evening's last light. At the foot of the fall creeks were darting back and forth. It made me want to ditch the very expensive camera I was carrying and start building dams and redirecting streams. It immediately hearkened back to that stream we had found in the Tilamook Forest. I took some pictures, we sauntered around, and went back down. On the drive back home we chased after the sun down the valley dipped in orange light. It eventually evaporated as the sun fell below below a far-off mountain range.
Once home, we busted out some popcorn and then watched a Mystery Science Theatre 3000. The only thing missing to complete this very
long-standing tradition we share was some Kool Aid. But regardless, we laughed and
we snacked away. Just like we've done a million times before. Just like we used to do every other night on such warm summer evenings when we were younger.
The next day we went to church, I went back to my brother's place to pack, and then he dumped me off at the airport. The end of my exotic vacation. There were dozens of other small memories along the way, but I think the best part was being able to laugh with my brother about stupid things, and pick up really old running jokes almost as if no time had elapsed at all. We're very similar creatures.
And that's what was primarily running through my head as I was waiting for my delayed flight. As I continued to wait in the jet while we were loaded with more fuel to fly around a large storm by the destination. As we flew around the storm and the city we were supposed to land at that was currently being bombarded with lightning and golfball-sized hail. From the air, I have to say, it was quite a spectacle to witness such a raging storm. Such a raging storm, apparently, that the airport refused to let us land. So we kept on going to... Saskatoon?!
That's right, apparently I wasn't quite meant to go back to work the next day like I had planned. Instead, I ended up in the wrong province at 1AM. It took an hour and a half before I had sifted all the way through the lineup to have my turn at the counter, where some incredibly tired-looking WestJet employees gave me hotel, taxi, and meal vouchers. In another half hour, and to the credit of the airline, I found myself checked into a four-star hotel, where I promptly slept for seven hours.
The next day... I was lazy. I got up, told people where I was and when I was expected back and had a looooong bath before I was finally out the door around noon. I stumbled through downtown Saskatoon in a daze (quaint little town/city. Nothing to write home about, but a relaxed place to be). I found myself a sandwich for lunch and made my way back to the hotel to grab my camera, journal, and a book I had picked up from Powell's. I spent the rest of the afternoon sauntering up and down the river behind the hotel. Taking pictures and poking around for a bit. Sitting in the sun and writing for myself. Lounging on a bench, being dipped into the science-fiction oozing from the book in my hands. Then I went back to the hotel, packed up (it was amazing how much stuff I can litter about such a small room within a short period of time) and went to the airport. I flew home without any incident.
This last day in Saskatoon was an unexpected pleasure, actually. A solid dose of 'do nothing' was just what I needed to unwind from my trip and sort out my head. It's one of the best things about being in transit sometimes - you happen upon these strange moments of limbo where there's nothing to do but... Wait. In my case, for my evening flight. And I'm kinda glad I was forced to slow down and wait, because it made me confront my sorely neglected journal and write down a lot of ideas that have been weighing on my shoulders. It felt good to get them out and recorded in a place that's only meant for me. It's relieving to know to get things out of your brain and lay them to rest, especially when they're the kind of things that would otherwise stay bottled up.
So yes. That was my vacation. One day longer than I had expected. But quite a journey. Perhaps not that exotic or exciting by other peoples' standards, but that's not what it's meant to be judged by. It was fun, it was what I wanted it to be, and that's all I can ask for. Saskatoon and all.
-Cril
Turn off your mind relax and float down stream
It is not dying, it is not dying
Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void,
It is shining, it is shining.
Yet you may see the meaning of within
It is being, it is being
Love is all and love is everyone
It is knowing, it is knowing
And ignorance and hate mourn the dead
It is believing, it is believing
But listen to the colour of your dreams
It is not leaving, it is not leaving
So play the game "Existence" to the end
Of the beginning, of the beginning
The Beatles - Tomorrow Never Knows
