Vancouver Hurrahs with Grandma

Today has been a marvelous day. When I jogged past a great horned owl this morning, I should have realized immediately that it was an omen.

After two lovely nights in Victoria, I couldn't wait to pick up our rental car and drive into the countryside of Victoria Island. Grandma and I got on the road after a lazy morning, picking up grilled vegetables and a big salad at this hipster cafe in town where grandma was bowled over by the preponderance of bare midriffs (she couldn't stop talking about it at dinner and is convinced boys have gotten into the act. I think she’s referring to the exposed boxers phenomenon.) You can guess what her opinions are on the matter. But in less than an hour, we went from bare midriffs, totem poles, and high tea to pristine beaches, windy backroads, and low tides. Thelma (the great woman we met at dinner) tipped us off to walk in East Sooke Park....if anyone ever gets the chance to go, its a must. Someday I would love to do the seven-hour coastal hike. The picnic above the beach and 30 minutes of the trail that grandma and I enjoyed were absolutely spectacular.

It was 5 or so when we got back on the road. We only had about 15 minutes left before reaching our "house", but a blue sign with the letter “A” and “native artisan” sign off the side of the road led to an abrupt left hand turn that turned out to be a great stroke of serendipity. I knew Grandma would tolerate a short goose chase (with me as a granddaughter, she’s been tolerating them for years!) Fortunately, within a few minutes, we saw a really cool sign for "The Blue Raven Gallery" and turned into a driveway that seemed more likely to lead to a chicken coop than what we found. When I saw the garage doors painted in incredible designs, I felt that unmistakable rush of travel giddiness that comes from unexpected discovery... And when I noticed a huge totem pole in progress on the side of the house, I ran back to the car and made grandma get out. A handsome guy who looked 30 and like he could be my future neighbor in Brooklyn came out of the house and introduced himself as the artist Carey Newman. (http://www.blueraven.ca/) As I asked him about the poles he was creating (one commissioned for the hotel we were about to reach, the other for a German collector), I realized that he was part of one of the most celebrated and famous families of First Nations artists. (This realization came after he mentioned that he got interested in totem poles when he was 12, and that his father, Victor, made them. I asked if any women made totem poles, and he mentioned that his great-aunt Ellen Neel had.) A little mental lightning bolt struck. Ellen Neel appears in every basic book on totem poles (I now have a mini totem pole library) and is considered a pivotal figure in helping to bring about their renaissance, and the first major woman carver that I know of. Grandma and I later saw one of her totem poles in Stanley Park. Carey invited us inside to his gallery, which included mostly his own work, and quite a bit by his father. We really didn't need to know his background to figure out that we had stumbled upon something great. We were wowed. And Carey went back to work--nothing like a totem pole raising ceremony attended by Europeans for a deadline!

We dragged ourselves away reluctantly, wishing that we could fit 20 foot masks worn in ritual ceremonies into our carry-on luggage, or that we had thousands of dollars to commission a totem pole. Our first glimpse of the Sooke Harbour House helped stave off the pain. I knew it would be a little jewel of a place. I had no idea, however, that it was purported to have the best restaurant in all of Canada and that it would be perched over the Pacific with rooms opening out to the Olympic mountains, smells from the garden below, a sandy spit stretching out from below our bedroom deck, a fireplace in the room, and enough art to start their own museum. (http://www.sookeharbourhouse.com) Grandma and I quickly agreed that it was the prettiest place we have ever stayed (and she’s logged 60 years worth of pretty hotel rooms.) In fact, judging from the comment book in our room, we are the first pair to stay in the room that wasn’t married on the premises, there for a honeymoon, or celebrating an anniversary. I should have known how pretty the place would be when I asked for a dinner reservation and they suggested that it would be most economical if Grandma and I signed up for "the romance package."

After taking a walk on the Whiffen Spit that curls out from the property, we headed downstairs for our dinner reservation. I naively assumed that 3 years of attending farmer’s markets in Santa Barbara had turned me into an expert on rare purple vegetables and little-known legumes. But this menu humbled me. Had any geoduck lately? What about day lily flower oil (in our yummy shellfish broth soup)? Loganberry sorbet? Prophyra seaweed gnocchi? Epazote root vegetable salsa? All way more delicious than they sound. At 84 years old, Grandma tried tofu and octopus for the first time--she’s definitely a Midwestern girl at heart. Best of all, she loved them both. The chef specializes in using local, seasonal ingredients…our salad came with a rainbow-hued assortment of edible petals from the garden. It was divine. As grandma pointed out, one of the best things about the meal is that it was 4 courses but didn’t leave either of us feeling overstuffed. And since we have gotten back, grandma has told absolutely everyone about our gastronomical adventure at Sooke and how we ate at the “7th best restaurant in North America” and stayed at one of the top ten hotels in the world. A place that is good enough for Mikhail Baryshnikov (which we learned from photos outside the bathroom) is good enough for grandma and me.

We crawled into our beds, left all the windows open, and feel asleep to the sound of the waves. Heaven!

Totem pole tally: 29 and counting...