Morning.

I have recently been reading into Virginia Woolf’s A Writer’s Diary. She too wrote not daily but periodically.

There is a pointed simplicity to her writing. I recall her description of a summer afternoon. Imagine a room full of dinner guests, she writes. One turns to look over their shoulder and remarks, ‘what a fine afternoon’. The power of suggestion does the rest.

One hopes to write in a similar manner. You write en simple and suggestion does the rest. Now, summer, methinks, has ended. Writing, on the contrary, has not.

New business. At last there will be an opportunity to write regarding ‘Continental Travel’ as the heading to this blog suggests. In the coming months we are planning and travelling to Europe–Hungary, in fact.

With posts between now and then, later travel posts will be brimming with photos and descriptions. I’m sure you’re just as excited as me.

In the meanwhile, continue to coffee, to read and to dream. Goodness knows I do. I even pulled out the fountain pen the other day and begun scratching about on paper. Fall is the season for that: reflection.

Here’s to changing seasons, travel planning and, of course, good coffee.

Summer.

It is interesting these days when you hear ‘the last days of summer’. It is ending isn’t it? All those warm nights, the sounds of chirping crickets. It is all coming to an end. Especially the stars. Oh those summer nights.

Getting rid of a few more volumes the other day I happened to glance the last leaf in an Alighieri Inferno compilation. It read something like–

Come forth, to look once more upon the stars.

Beautiful stuff. And I would agree. Some early mornings when heading to the car for work I glance up. I see the stars.

In our part of town the sky really is dark at night. And on these summer nights whether late night or early morning you can really see a Celestial Highway. What a summer memory. What beauty in nature.

These last days of summer have afforded us a few local outings. One of these outings was to Nanaimo Bakery & Confectionary Ltd. This gem is like one of those spots that time forgets. Years pass by and the shop, inside, remains unchanged.

The pastry showcases are the real highlight. Opposite the goodies is the cafe seating. Old, simple, peopled. Many locals appear here. The vibes are not busy, but homely. No phones in hand, munching on tuna sandwiches, quiche or fruit flan. The crowd that gathers here comes to visit over tea and coffee. A quiet scene from a different time.

We enjoyed a large black coffee. Tuna on wheat and a cherry danish. Tomato basil soup and a toasted rueben sandwich on house rye fuelled us up. We also delighted in two pieces of homemade cheese cake.

Local outings abound. Summer has meant so much this year. Whether day tripping or island hopping we enjoyed every bit.

And isn’t it funny, you know that fall is around the corner. But somehow regardless of how much you enjoyed the present season you resist what is to come. Colours fade and fall makes her gradual appearance. She romances you. You soon forget what summer meant and are delighted by cooler airs.

Is it happening now? Not yet. The crickets still chirp. The slider door is open. Just warm enough. Yesterday we walked out to a beautiful peninsula and spied the shifting tides. Sunset. Summer yet remains.

I am sure, however, that fall is waiting gently, quietly behind the corner soon to make her appearance–one leaf at a time.

Delay, dear season, one more day. Let us breathe in one more summer night. Let us drink in once more summer’s stars.

Currently listening to Kolonie’s Celestial Highway.

Blonde.

Let us see how short this post can be.

In an effort to write–and to simply keep on writing–I am posting today. It is the midst of the work week for me. There are many goings-on. Many things to attend to.

However, we have recently celebrated a birthday in our household. We have recently been about town. But that is not why I am writing today.

I am writing today because just the other afternoon I have for the first time tasted Starbucks’s Blonde Roast espresso.

What an experience. I remember standing awkwardly in the lineup. I remember thinking, no. There is no way this will work. I have my favourites and my routines. Trying something new works some of the time, but not all of the time. I thought I would stick to my usual doppio long espresso.

I took the plunge. I ordered a doppio long pour Blonde Roast espresso. And what happened?

The coffee was bright and smooth. Airy and almost sweet. The espresso certainly packed a punch. I have since learned that the lighter the roast the more caffeine content. Oh, I felt the caffeine kick alright.

Bright and sweet, I would say. Just enough aroma. But would I order this espresso as per usual? Perhaps not. I could see myself indulging in a gulp right before another, say, road trip while island hopping. Or I would more than likely support the local cafe in my area.

Coffee is coffee, methinks. It’s better if you make it for yourself. But trying something new once in a while is a treat. It is a treat especially if you are not used to breaking out of your routine once in a while.

And by golly I am grateful for that. Grateful to shake things up from time to time especially if it involves coffee. Though goodness knows I won’t change my morning routine or usual route to work any time soon. Nope.

Me? As long as I get my coffee I’m happy.

Have a great Thursday. And maybe treat yourself to something new today. And why not? I’m sure you deserve it.

Done.

A few items to note. The first is that we visited the Vancouver Island Exhibition yesterday. 125 years strong, this year promised to be fantastic. But, for us, it wasn’t. This may be a fact for several reasons . . .

We first visited two years ago. It must have been a Saturday night. Busy, bustling and full of food options. It was also Ribfest. Lots of barbeque brisket, pork, ribs. We were well fed. I remember standing surrounded by flood lights on the baseball diamond turned food truck festa. Carnival lights whizzing nearby. It was an exhibition to remember. That was 2017.

This year we took mum and dad. Year one-twenty-five promised to be good. We went on day one on the Friday afternoon. A few stands, less food trucks. We wandered about after chomping on a burger, pierogies and a steak burrito. Hmm. The Armstrong Fair or Interior Pacific Exhibition was more notable. Mind you, that fair changed over the years as well.

We made the most of the livestock displays and vintage machinery on show. Dad and I watched the tractor pull competition. Amazing to see vintage machinery in action. Dad shared a few stories about his childhood. It was quite a moment.

Vintage threshing machine at the VIEx

Meeting up again we all walked through the midway, but didn’t take the plunge. Where was the milk bottle toss game anyways? And right before the exit we circled back and test drove some new Jeeps over a miniature obstacle course.

In all, we missed the numbers of people, the liveliness and variety of food and vendors that we remembered from exhibitions past. Times, one supposes, have changed.

We needed redemption. We drove all the way up the highway back to Coombs. (Remember the goats on the roof?) We bought some in season fruit and then settled into Cuckoo Italian Trattoria. Been there yet? You should go.

Curtains and tablecloths add a rustic feel.

A sip of golden, champagne-sweet Peroni Nastro Azzurro, some strawberry cake and hand stretched pizza. We dined while soaking up garden views through the large windows. Topped all off with a heady double espresso.

Lovely fountain on the garden patio.

Celebrating a recent birthday today, we had hoped to relive memories of times past. History, it would seem, wasn’t to repeat itself. Some memories, it would seem, are better remembered than relived.

Island.

You waited. Now you got it. This post promises another entry to follow. Keep it brief? We’ll try.

Now, remember Salt Spring? Yes, well we still had that Saturday morning to go. Up early to pack up our Airbnb. Breakfast? Not really. I mustered up a quick café noir in a tiny French press. The market called.

Back to Barb’s. Back to Salt Spring Coffee. We got it right the second time around. Coffees in hand, pastries including an avocado breakfast sandwich for dad and a tapenade twist breadstick for me, we awaited market hour.

Some things at the Saturday market I’d never seen. A ROK GC Espresso machine for one. Two lever arms on an inverted u-shaped base. A giant kosher pickle for three dollars. People doing Tai Chi while a fella hammered away on a djembe . . .

Crowded and interesting. The market did not disappoint. It was busy. One couple selling French baking drew us in. A piece of flan. A custard fruit tart with local raspberries. I even found a handcrafted pair of earrings for my lovely wife.

Found dad in the park near the djembe. Mum was on the approach with a to-go tray loaded with gyoza. Food time. Dad and I walked to Buzzy’s Luncheonette. Oh, yeah. Ten-day cure, eight-hour smoke and steam-held until sliced to order. They even had my absolute favourite Boylan Black Cherry soda to wash down the meal, latkes and all.

After a long morning we began to tire. We made our way to the return ferry line up. From the queue we walked back up to Vesuvius Cafe. We enjoyed a spicy Chai Tea latte. When our ferry arrived back to Vancouver Island there was quite a line up Salt Spring bound.

A casual drive home felt good knowing we were back in our locale. The foreignness of the coastal islands behind us. Each one we’ve visited this summer is a different world. Each has something unique to share.

Goodness knows we’ll be back that way soon. Just not yet. We have some more local events to enjoy first. More on that later. Time to enjoy some local Cowichan Valley corn. ¡Listo!

Spring.

Just gotta write. I can’t believe it. It’s like when you crave a burger–or a Rabinowitz smoked meat sandwich from a local deli . . .

More on that later.

Another preview here. Full post to follow. You know, work stuff calls.

So stay tuned for smoked meat sandwiches, more coffee, some baking, and a stunner of a Saturday morning market that is as crowded as, well, a smoked meat sandwich from Buzzy’s Luncheonette on Salt Spring Island, BC.

In the meantime, peace, love and coffee–just maybe not in that order.

Salt.

Today was the day. We were up early and ready to go.

The drive South to Crofton was easy as the roadways were clear early morning. The trick was getting the baby all set–and mum and dad too. We all piled into the family van and made way.

There is always an eagerness when you’re trying to make a connection. You come to a fork in the road, your eyes strained at the road signs. You want to make it. You want to breathe deep knowing that you’re in line and all set. When everything is good you can relax knowing you’re on your way.

We were on our way alright. At Ladysmith we pulled right with mum asking, “is this the exit for cinnamon buns?” I nodded. We had made good time and had plenty to spare for a warm treat. One brewed coffee and one decaf Americano for mum and the missus. One breakfast wrap and an orange poppyseed cinnamon bun. They were happy. I had gobbled up an espresso at home and was willing to wait for the island goodies ahead. Thank you, Old Town Bakery.

Crofton. Exit left. Don’t miss the sign for Salt Spring. We drove past Catalyst Paper mill, zipping by patches of in season corn on the right. Mind the speed zones. We were third in line for our sailing. We slowed down. Dad and I sat on the pier watching a recreation boat pick up a friend below . The boat backed in toward the dock. A bag of fresh salmon was handed off, the friend climbed aboard.
“Crabbing?” the driver asked an adjacent boat.
“Yup. Haven’t seem ’em like this in three years,” replied the other.

It was time to sail. After our brief crossing we landed at Vesuvius Bay. Mum at the wheel. We zipped across island right into downtown Ganges. Barb’s Buns. Locals abounded. Sunworn hats, shaggy beards, over friendly pups licking crumbs up from under patio tables. This was Ganges.

Chicken caesar wrap, two olive tapenade cheese twists. We sat, lounged, nibbled. I was in charge of coffee. Salt Spring Coffee to be exact. The store has been closed on Ganges these last few years. This year I was ecstatic to see a food truck outside the storefront selling their coffee. A double espresso, and then another as I forgot to ask for a long pour. A decaf Canadiano. Cappuccino for mum. We were well fed.

Next? It was time to drive the island. Having holidayed here in the past we knew our route. South. Garry Oaks winery caught our eye. We stopped in for a taste. Theseus, Ariadne, Labyrinth reds and whites full of flavour and fairly balanced. Dad insisted on taking home a 2016 Pinot Noir. “Drinks like a Foch,” he said.

Beer next. We left two bleating sheep behind at the vineyard and rolled down the winding roadway to Salt Spring Island Ales. Dry Porter, Golden Ale, Earl Grey IPA, Heather Ale. All simple and local like the island. Yum. We settled on a tall bottle of Golden Ale and sipped to our health before finding some cheese.

Salt Spring Island Cheese. Off Reynolds Road, this spot has been a longtime favourite. A lot of updates to the buildings, but the same tasty cheese. We crowded into the tasting room and sampled Chili Chèvre to ripened Romelia soft goat cheese. The ice cream at the cafe was some of the best.

Opting for no dinner, but instead a picnic of goodies collected throughout the day we settled into our accommodation. Not much has changed on the island. It has, in one opinion, merely matured over the years. People come and go. Some, as the the local map suggests, decide not to take the ferry back home.

We were only staying the night. The Saturday morning market on our minds. With full bellies and tired eyes we settled in for the night.

Salt Spring Island.

Have you been there?

One of several Gulf Islands, this gem is just another short ferry hop away from Vancouver Island. We head there tomorrow morning.

Why write a preview? Well, I’m excited. There is no question that summer is slipping away. Have you ever watched the tide slink out from the beach back to the sea? If you don’t look every so often it’s already out–or back.

Summer is like the tide, and we’re chasing it.

We plan to board the ferry from Crofton at Osborne Bay and sail the twenty-five minutes to Vesuvius Bay, Salt Spring Island.

Southern Gulf Islands route map

Map credit: 2019 British Columbia Ferry Services Inc.

Time is of the essence. When one isn’t a resident on such a small island accessible only by public transit every minute counts. You land, you sightsee. You check your watch. How much time until our return sailing? What time do we head back to the ferry line up?

It’s a lot like the tide, isn’t it? When you travel your time is defined by your arrival and departure. But does it have to be? Certainly not.

Some of the sweetest summer memories this year are those where we let go of time, closing our eyes resting in the shade on Gabriola Island. Putting up our feet at home watching hummingbirds zip about in the yard.

What we know about tomorrow’s trip is that we plan to take the whole family and stay the night. Coffee, food, lots of snacks–and the packed Saturday summer market await.

Having not Airbnb’d before, we’ll be giving that a try too.

The summer breeze filters through the open sliding door on the patio. Summer is calling.

Updates to follow.

In the meantime, wishing you a happy weekend . . .

Presently listening to:

1. Robert Nickson & Ellie Lawson’s The Way that U R, Extended Mix – Amsterdam Trance Records

2. Tommy Conway & Dierdre McLaughlin’s Guide Your Way, Asteroid Remix – Subculture Recordings

Remarketeering.

Parksville’s Summer by the Sea Market. It happened today.

This market has in fact been going on week to week. Tuesday nights. The tiny, cozy drive is closed to vehicle traffic. Pedestrians abound. One end of the drive hugs highway 19A. The Straight of Georgia and sandy stretch of Parksville beach lit up by sunset at the other.

People, dogs, scruffy dogs, fuzzy-looking people (and vice versa) about. Palm-fulls of fresh Sunshine Blue blueberries in munching mouths; cheap varieties of lemonade for a toonie; fresh fries . . .

Strolling up and down the drive we ate mini doughnuts at one end, and sampled locally made Swiss style alpen cheese at the other. Stamped and fired ceramic collectible bits for sale? Yep. Cutting boards made from an assortment of walnut and elm? Yes. And everything else in between that you can imagine. Even tarot card readings.

Had a reading done today. I was curious. I still am. Decks shuffled, cards turned, timer set. My guide spoke, I listened. Relevant suggestions shared: take your time; be advised of the opinions of others; family is a good thing, and so on. It was an interesting and enlightening experience. Novel in many ways too. At least now I know.

Oh, yes, food trucks. Not the wild assortment nor the assortment of flavours I’d like to see, but trucks nonetheless. Just Fries, the name of one truck where we ate . . . fries. Russet potatoes smashed in the cutter and fried. No seasoning, said the sign. Just Fries.

On the way back to the car I couldn’t resist trying a handsomely decorated rice bowl. The Pepper Pot Food Truck the culprit. I asked someone about to bite into one where they bought it. They merely pointed and ate.

Chicken was what I ordered. Impressions? Layers of food. Alas no layers of flavour. Handsome looking dish though. Their ghost pepper hot sauce made up for it. Marks for moderate serving size and appearance. Less for flavour.

It’s what ties it all together: the flavours, the colours, the food experience. Can you think of a place you’ve been where the food has absolutely defined or defiled your experience? For us, if you recall, the fish and chips at Thatch Pub and Restaurant highlighted our trip to Hornby Island. On the contrary, buying a case of blueberries without tasting the various varieties first can be disappointing. (Not what happened to us, I might add).

Image may contain: 1 person, food

The Parksville Summer by the Sea Market will continue to be defined by the smell and flavour of both Bee’s Knees mini doughnuts and Just Fries’s, well, fries. Flavour and memory are one.

Now get out there and eat something. Just make sure it’s got flava.

(Currently listening to Boxer’s Blue Planet from Anjunadeep’s Explorations series.)

Just have to.

Have been busy these days. But that won’t do, will it?

The work week is something else. It pulls in this direction and that. Not to mention traffic–the commute.

I have been enjoying languages in the car lately. Let me explain. German, Italian, French. In the time that it takes to get to the workplace in the morning I usually take ten to fifteen minutes to listen to a few Pimsleur language lessons. Once I’m done I’m back to listening to dance and electronic.

What am I listening to these days? Cooky and Drawen’s Love Again. The Hungarian-French producer duo remixed the original track, Skaei’s Happy Ending.

At any rate, dance music keeps me going. In college, the roommate would tell me to stop listening to dance while reading the dictionary. Clearly the habit bothered the guy. Today dance music remains fuel for life and work. Languages, too, I guess.

Tomorrow is my ‘Friday’. The end of the work week. Habits, hobbies and freedom ensues–including time with the family and island hopping.

Looking forward to it all.

Have you had a busy week? Are you back to work tomorrow? Whatever the case find your fun and your fuel. Hoping that you had some time to relax and recover. It’s still summer. Make the good weather count and let’s have some fun out there.