By my approximate calculations, the last time I managed to scrape together enough days off in a row to constitute an actual vacation was while John Paul still served as the Metatron and Cliff Fletcher was running the Maple Leafs Cito Gaston was running the Blue Jays Toronto sports teams didn’t drift aimlessly on the seas of competition.
So, I managed to beg, borrow and scrape together three consecutive days off from The Restaurant and head south to Seattle. The declared purpose of the trip was to see the Blue Jays defeat the lowly Mariners. Considering the Jays only come to Seattle for one series a year, the trip had to be this weekend. I will briefly point out to those unfamiliar with the restaurant industry, that to get three days off in the first week of July one needs to pray for more luck than is normally seen on the Vegas Strip.
Almost as large as the desire to see some baseball, though, was the desire to simply be back on the road – regardless of for how long – as was a commonality during my Acadia days with CoHo. This time, sadly, we hadn’t managed to convince some benefactor to provide us with money for all the gas/hotel/admission fees/border guard bribes we would be using. In short, I was actually going to have to pay for things myself.
This immediately cancelled out a few small luxuries. The first to go was a name-brand hotel with unnecessary frills (like running water or beds). Comfort Inn is, apparently, for those who floss with unicorn tail horns and wear undergarments of cotton handspun by blind villagers in remotest Tianjing. We were going for the ironincally named King’s Inn – for the simple reason that at roughly $250 for two nights, I wouldn’t have to pay in limbs.
Next up was the matter of transportation. Quickly the Victoria Clipper, a passenger ferry that runs from downtown to downtown of Victoria/Seattle, was ruled out. It had the disadvantage of being convienient, and therefore more expensive. This left us with a jaunt from Sidney, BC to Anacortes, WA on the car ferry for a much lower price. This was more our brand of vodka. Still to choose from, though, was two different vehicles. First was Amanda’s 2005 Minivan, which featured plenty of space for the four people going and a functioning CD player. Second option was Karl’s 1977 Lincoln Continental Towncar, which featured plenty of space for the populations of any four European countries you choose and a gas mileage measured in litres to the yard. While the Lincoln held a substantial edge in any situations of direct nuclear strike to the vehicle, the recent upgrade in gas to $1.50/L led us quickly to the more fuel-efficient minivan (surely a sentence never before put into type).
The best of all of the various reservations and phone calls and emails that were sent out to ensure we didn’t end up sleeping with the troll under the Aurora Bridge was that it was done by Amanda and I after a rather convivial evening. This involved (if I recall correctly) deciding after numerous pints each that it was essential for us to get a bottle of wine – to go – from the pub we were ‘planning’ at, and go and ‘plan’ back at my place. Somehow, miraculously, we managed to get all of the essentials in place – including gorgeous tickets for the Blue Jays/Mariners game – and were ready to roll, along with Karl and Brad at 8:30 on the morning of the 2nd of July.
And off we went…
What country are we going to? Hint: 3 letters.
1 Comment
August 29, 2008 at 7:26 pm
Whhhereererererere aaarreeee uppppddddaaattteeeesssssssssssssssssss