My intention was never to be a travel writer, and yet, here I am, having been doing so for weeks. I hope I haven’t strained our friendship. I have many other things to tell you and we must get on with it! Nevertheless, I think you might enjoy this one last little story from our travels…
The last day of our trip, was a long one. I have to admit I wasn’t full of enthusiasm, having had three very tiring days in Vancouver already. And then I had a bad night’s sleep. Something gets you up and keeps you going, though… perhaps knowing how much you are paying for the tickets!
We had ordered a taxi for 6.50am, as we needed to go to another hotel for a bus pickup that would take us to the departure point for the Rocky Mountaineer train from North Vancouver to Whistler. I managed a quick coffee before departure and we were to get a cold breakfast on the train. All worked like a perfectly oiled machine and by just after 8.30am we were heading through the beautiful, posh suburb of West Vancouver.
(One of many dedicated waving residents of West Vancouver below…)
The Rocky Mountaineer is a classy operation, expensive, but very memorable, in our experience. There are five cars on the train and each car has its own tour guide who serves food and drinks, sells souvenir items, and comments on the highlights of scenery as they pass. One of the cars is a glass domed carriage that offers amazing views, has extra service and complimentary alcohol and is commensurately more expensive. The guides gave us good warning before photo ops so that we could arrange ourselves in position to view or photograph the sights. They also told us that the locals love the train and they love waving at the passengers as they pass. They weren’t kidding! I’ve never felt so much like a celebrity in my life. It was positively disappointing at the end of the journey, when, back on our bus, no one even noticed us, let alone waved!
The scenery between Vancouver and Whistler is gorgeous, varying from seascapes to lakes, waterfalls, forests and mountains. At the resort village of Whistler we almost felt like we were in Disneyland. It was beautifully festooned in flowers for summer, and we could only imagine that, draped in snow, it would look like a fairyland. Lunch in the village was delicious, in between walks to explore both the upper and lower parts of the resort.
Once back on the train we relaxed and enjoyed the service and the scenery, and the waving, oh that enthusiastic waving! Did they know no bounds? As we waved our way back into and through West Vancouver there came a hedge blocking our view… and then suddenly appearing with perfect precision came a wildly happy male face attached to waving arms, bouncing above the hedge row, disappearing from view and then above the hedge once again, obviously with the help of a trampoline… and just as obviously, with not a stitch of clothes on! My husband says he can neither support or deny my observation, (says he was looking the other way on the first appearance and not sure what he saw on the second!) but judging from the reaction of our guide, a young man who seemed quite embarrassed, I’m going with my original assessment. I can only say how disappointed I was not to have my camera at the ready!
For two tired travellers that lad was the perfect end to a very memorable day to finish another chapter in the book of Travels with Ardys and Don.