Start as you mean to go on.
That's the rule, isn't it? I've promised myself that I won't let the fiasco that was my non-communication from England be repeated on this southward voyage of the Turtle. I shall record the journey, first of all to let friends and family know that we are okay, but also, importantly, to help me (and R, who complains bitterly when I fail to blog, because I am the official rememberer) keep track of who and where we are and what we've been up to. Already, I've forgotten to do the one thing I resolved to do -- really notice one thing every day this month and write about it -- Okay. I will be starting that tomorrow. I even have a lovely little notebook for the purpose. Meanwhile, this is our adventure so far.
We left home at about 2:15 this afternoon and made our way to the Departure Bay ferry terminal for the 3:00 p.m. sailing. We were directed to lane 31, where we found ourselves waiting in the line-up right beside a full cattle car. The cattle were lowing, the stench was stinky, and I was full of foreboding. When we boarded the ferry, the cattle ended up a little bit ahead of us, but I could still hear them. R went up onto the passenger deck, but I stayed in the Turtle to read and scrounge for something to eat. I ended up talking to my daughter on the phone for a while, until I felt too ill to do so. It was not a pleasant crossing. There was rain and there was wind, and there were waves. The cattle were frightened (and maybe seasick, too. Who knows?); they kept losing their balance and bellowing. I sympathized. Every few seconds there would be a great THUMP! as the ferry fell off a wave and landed in a trough. At least I hope that's what was happening. It was awfully loud.
Finally, we arrived at Horseshoe Bay and made our way to Burnaby via Highway 1. There was rain and there was wind, and apparently there had been an accident on the highway beyond our exit. We traveled the last two kilometres or so before the exit at narrowboat speed (3-4 miles an hour). We felt nostalgic for the narrowboat. Also hungry.
When we arrived in Burnaby, the grandchildren greeted us at the door and their parents presented us with pizza for dinner, after which we all watched a movie about sentient cars with agendas and love lives. It was all very strange -- the movie, I mean. Not the pizza. That was good.
So here I am, bleary-eyed but determined. If there is wi-fi, I will write every night. Really I will. Tomorrow, I hope to be writing from somewhere in southern Washington. Have I mentioned that we are on our way to Texas? That's the plan. First Texas, then -- I don't know. Wherever we like, for the next two months.
Goodnight, and sweet dreams.