While I was sleeping, a damn fog machine switched itself on overnight, dragging me and the surrounding islands – and the Queen Charlotte Strait – straight into a proper pea souper.
Everything has disappeared from view … even the trees directly outside, next to my waterfront balcony, are barely visible.
After breakfast, I’m shooting the breeze with my hosts Terry Ruth and Terrence, the most confusingly-named couple, about their fantastic house and more importantly the pristine 1980 FJ Land Cruiser parked up in the garage.
Back on the Jekyll & Hyde Road – which obviously is in two separate parts – heading to the main highway and back down the coast to Nanaimo, only 350 clicks away … a good four hour drive.
The thick fog quickly lifts to present the most perfectly sunny and incredibly hot day, and soon enough I’m blazing a trail south.
The beach towns are crowded with people and dogs and cars and inflatables and summer smiles and carefree vibes … as long as you don’t expect to be able to park up anywhere.
It’s clear enough that I’m heading in the general direction of civilisation.
A few hours later, I’m arriving in Nanaimo – a city with a harbour, and a great many seaplanes.
Staying downtown in a stuffy hostel with the painted people and a painted turtle.
Where shadows lurk in dark airless corridors, doing business with each other for all I know.
Escaping into the open air, gasping for breath and a fresh beer, for a stroll around the alternately pretty / moderately overdeveloped waterfront marina.
Sculptures and artwork and bent-over-backwards trees everywhere, being followed by moody crustaceans.
I scuttle along crablike through the park, and out the other side to the White Sails brewery, to blow off the cobwebs with a couple of crisp IPAs.
I’d like to see the damn crab try and get through the swinging doors!
Keeping one eye over my shoulder for decapods, as I head back around to the waterfront, watching the seaplanes come and go in the harbour, drinking it all in with a cold one.
Wandering around the deserted city streets, wondering where everyone is.
The artworks of the open air urban art gallery bring me back down to earth … humanity and unity, painted on walls.
My route to the hostel takes me through the empty parking lot, where large kindergarten block letters have been arranged in such a way to make me think I’m one in seven billion.
I sneak back through the city streets, because we’re all playing hide and seek.
An Outside World 