First Nations and Last Destination

Our hostel for the night was the colourfully named 'Painted Turtle’, and the lady bus driver took one look at us and asked us if that was where we were headed. Slightly taken aback we asked how she knew, to which she pointed at our backpacks and told us it was the only hostel in town, and that she stopped right outside. A very friendly door to door service! The keys to our room had a cute turtle key ring, and the dorms were each given a letter, painted with something Canadian. We had 'N’ to ourselves, with the northern lights painted onto the door, and I hoped that this was a good omen!

In the morning we caught a bus back to the ferry port to catch yet another bus to the other side of the island. As it would happen, we had the pleasant company of another cheerful bus driver. After boarding, we confirmed that we were indeed from England, to which he replied 'right on’! He then went on to tell us about how he wished to visit the churches there and that some of his favourite preachers were from England. With an awkward pause and a noncommittal response, he clearly guessed that we didn't know who he was referring to, so then asked 'oh, are you Muslim?’. Haha. He commented that he now resided in the best place in Canada, Nanaimo, the town we were leaving. He informed us that on our next bus journey we would pass through Cathedral Grove, whereby the trees were so tall that you felt like an ant in the forest. He wished us a safe onward trip and we sat next to the ferry terminal for an hour and a half waiting for our Greyhound bus. Hugo wasn't too impressed, but better early than late! Plus a bald eagle swooped right overhead as I waited. A bus pulled into the stop and this time an unfriendly bus driver said 'not this one’ and sarcastically commented that it just might be the bus with 'tofinobus’ branding on it, before climbing aboard and shutting the doors. I'm not sure how we were supposed to know that the bus not marked greyhound was actually the one we needed to get. Naturally he ranked very low on our list of favourite Vancouver Island bus drivers.

Now on the correct coach, we snaked our way through the Vancouver Island countryside, including the much recommended Cathedral Grove and a store with a grass roof and a casual couple of live goats grazing on it. We stopped briefly at a layby where we got a cinnamon bun from a nearby bakery. Once in Tofino, we discovered the other four backpackers were also going to the same hostel as us so we followed them. And what a hostel it was! Perched on the waterfront, with great ocean views from the comfy living area and a quaint little oyster shack at the end of the pier. We dumped our bags in lockers ready for our check in and headed out for a walk along the string of beaches that dotted the coast, all connected by forest walkways. We passed beautiful Tonquin beach and Mackenzie beach, oggling at the ocean view properties clinging to the cliff tops, before becoming peckish around half five. Having been recommended tacofino, a nearby taco truck, by an impossibly French hostel staff member, this was naturally our next stop. We turned up at the retro style food truck and placed an order for 2 fish and 2 beef tacos. Moving to the side to let the people behind us order, they were told by the server that they were now closed. Looking at our phones we found that it was 18:00 exactly. Talk about cutting it fine! Lucky for us we unwittingly made it in time because the tacos were fantastic. The fish ones were good, but the beef tacos were something else! Leaving satisfied but certain that we could have eaten twice as many beef tacos, we started our trek back to the hostel. Unfortunately we hadn’t accounted for the sun setting which made it much spookier than our leisurely walk down, especially having been warned of recent bear sightings in the area and the knowledge that they are most active at dusk! After returning to the hostel from a fairly brisk walk through the forest, we checked into our ‘suite’ - a family room big enough for 5 which was the last room available, even when booking some weeks ago. Relaxing in the common area, we got chatting to a German couple who were going on the same tour the following day, and found out that because the hostel was fully booked for the night, they were staying in the games room on fold out beds for a reduced rate! We both looked at each other in guilt as we jointly thought about our deluxe suite and the three empty beds. Thinking about multiple factors such as our inflated rate and the fact they had already paid and checked in, we decided to take this information to the grave and kept a poker face as they described their predicament. We had to double down later on as we spoke to a guy who was also slumming it next to the pool table for the night. We blame the swarm of school kids who had descended on the place for a school trip for taking all the beds!

The next morning we embarked on a day trip to a natural hot springs via a powerboat. Our guide,Tim, had eagle eyes, spotting the various marine wildlife and steering towards them for us to get a good view. Along with the other 4 passengers, we enjoyed sightings of bald eagles, sea otters (sounds great in a French accent), steller sea lions, two grey whales and their huge tails, harbour porpoise, seals, and some jellyfish. We even saw some salmon leaping out of the water in a farm run by first nations locals. Tim commented that he used to be employed as a guard there as the boat fuel used to be regularly stolen. To get a better view of the coastline, we decided to stand at the back of the boat in the open air, which at the speed we were going was pretty exciting (and unfortunately pretty wet at times). We docked at the jetty at Maquinna national park and started up the boardwalk. This was a 30 minute journey through ancient stands of Cedar entwined by long vines and carpeted with thick green undergrowth, giving the impression that it hadn't been disturbed for thousands of years. We half expected a triceratops to plod out of the trees. The smell of sulphur indicated that we were nearing our destination. We changed into our swimwear and padded across the slippery rocks leading down to the springs. We squeezed in besides the other visitors and soaked in the hot water that cascaded over a rockface into several small pools and ran out to the open sea. Hugo stood under the small waterfall and tossed his head back, as if reinacting a herbal essences advert. Sufficiently warmed through, we towelled off and changed before retracing our steps back to the boat. As we waited for the rest of the group, three large fluffy dogs appeared. We guessed these were the local dogs we had read about on various signs, and our suspicions were confirmed when one tiddled on an unexpecting visitor. On the way back to Tofino we passed a village of colourful houses belonging to Tim's first nations tribe. In the evening a guy at the hostel invited people to club together for a BBQ. After considering our first option (some bland pasta dish no doubt), it didn't take much persuasion for us to head to the supermarket to pick up some BBQ meat. He directed the proceedings by ordering people about as if he was head chef of some Michelin starred restaurant, and we eventually sat down as a group of 16 around one large table. We did feel a bit like outsiders as we weren't quite 'cool’ enough, but we tucked into a pretty good meal all the same.

On the morning of our seven year anniversary, I fetched us some freshly baked free muffins from the hostel kitchen, which we enjoyed in bed. We opted for a leisurely morning stroll through town to browse the shops, much to Hugo's delight (they do say relationships are a compromise, right). Hugo admired a hand carved bench and a cute bull dog, and then we entered the Eagle Aerie gallery of local and prestigious artist, Roy Henry Vickers. He was quite the man, with one of his paintings being gifted to the Queen by the province of BC in 1987, and him being a recipient of the Order of Canada and a Doctorate of Letters from York University. His works were displayed in the traditional longhouse gallery he built himself. In the late afternoon we revisited Tonquin beach, where we clambered up some rocks to face the ocean and watch the sunset. Hugo joked that we should check for free beach WiFi, but remarkably we were in reach of the unprotected WiFi from a beach house above us! We toasted the years with water (no alcohol in public places) and yet more muffins - who said romance is dead. The sunset was a beautiful one and we enjoyed the peaceful moment.

In order to catch our bus, we were up at the crack of dawn to pack up and wearily drag ourselves to the bus station. Back pack on, we went to the kitchen to collect our food only to discover it was locked. Mission kitchen ensued as Hugo crept around the back and gained access through the fire door. Food retrieved, we walked through the darkness and waited for our greyhound bus, due in at 6.20am. After 30 minutes waiting, there was still no sign of a bus. The office opened at 7 and so as the staff member opened up we went in to ask where the bus was. Sadly, she informed us that the autumn bus timetable had started a few days before, meaning the 6.20 did not exist. Trying to remain calm, but inside furious that we had risen so early for no reason, I asked why we had not been informed of the change despite being allowed to book tickets weeks before. She was unable to answer and changed our tickets for the next bus at 10.30. This also meant that we would not have the few layby hours I had planned for in Nanaimo. Greyhound owe me a Nanaimo bar that I would not now get the chance to try. Back to the hostel we went, and we awkwardly asked whether we could check back in to our room until 10. They kindly let us and I took a nap whilst Hugo fetched me a morning muffin and read his book. At 10.30 we finally set off for Victoria, the capital of British Columbia. Our YHA was just across the road from the bus drop-off, so we swiftly checked in and made up our beds. We were in a room of 4 bunks, however there was not enough room to sit a cat, never mind swing one. Nevertheless we shared our limited space with two Japanese cyclists, who cleverly managed to hang their tent to dry. Setting out to explore for the evening, we heard the familiar sound of Irish music as we neared the town centre. We found The Irish Times, voted one of the top 10 Irish pubs outside of Ireland, and wandered in to find merry pub-goers clapping and dancing to a live band. We did a couple of circuits of the place trying to find some seats before admitting defeat and walking out. Unsure what could possibly top that we consulted Google and found the Churchill, a very long and narrow bar with high vaulted ceilings, complete with tall bottle shelves and sliding ladder. Painted on the walls were various Churchill quotes, completing the theme. There were over 50 beers and ciders on tap which made our choice a tough one. After a couple of drinks we decided on a very alliterative meal; pulled pork poutine and potato perogis. As Canadian as it gets! We decided Victoria had a nice vibe to it - it had a very old English town feel to it.

We woke up the following day and walked to the Royal British Columbia Museum, a vast architectural building filled with exhibits on the history of BC and it's first nations heritage. After buying our tickets we walked over to the escalator where a security guard was standing. He stopped us and asked us to turn so he could see our bags. Casting his eyes over our bags, he was satisfied and let us continue. At the time it seemed as though this was some amazing superpower that he had to be able to view the contents of our bags with x-ray vision! It was only after reaching the top of the escalator we realised he was simply checking they were small enough not to knock over the exhibits. I was fascinated by the languages exhibit which covered the huge variety of first nations languages, and I brushed up on my phonetics, and Hugo spent his time reading about the naval history of BC. Hungry after all that learning, we found Red Fish Blue Fish, a seaside food truck famous for its fish and chips. Thankfully we made it just in time, second last in the queue! A lady tried to join the queue but was turned away by a staff member. At this point she brought out a moving story about her scattering her mother's ashes, but the staff stood strong - glad it wasn't me having to tell her! We tucked into a two piece salmon and chips which lived up to the reputation. Devine! To make the most of the late afternoon sunshine we walked along the David Foster harbour pathway, watching as the sea planes came in to land and passing a small group of colourful houses on the waterfront at Fisherman’s Wharf. A pier stretched out in to the ocean at Ogden Point making a good photo stop. Hugo tried out the sundial on the path but somehow concluded a time a few hours out. We reached the 'Mile 0’ sign marking the start of the Trans Canada highway, and read the plaque dedicated to the remarkable effort of Terry Fox, who after having a leg amputated due to cancer in 1980, attempted to run a 'Marathon for hope’ from East to West to raise money and awareness for cancer research. Unfortunately the cancer spread and after 143 days he had to stop, and died not long after. The following year in his memory the first 'Terry Fox run’ was held in his memory and 60 million people from over 60 countries  have since taken part in what is now the largest one day fund raiser for cancer research raising 650 million dollars in his name. Mulling over this profound achievement, we found ourselves at Beacon Hill, however unlike the Leicestershire hill of the same name, this one was marked by a Canadian flag. We strolled through the park, admiring the duck ponds and peacocks, and then walked along a road in town searching for an ATM without fees. A murmuration of starlings caught our attention over the high rise buildings and we posed for photos underneath signs for 'Abbott Street’ and 'Swift Street’.

On our day of departure there was just enough time to walk along West Song Way to Spinnaker’s pub, the oldest brewpub in Canada, for a quick drink (even though it hadn't gone midday yet - we're on holiday) before catching a bus to the Swartz ferry terminal. A ferry to Tsawwassen, bus and skyrail train later and we were at Vancouver airport.  Read more