Tag Archives: Holiday travel

More Discouvery

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Tuesday and Wednesday 30 and 31 August 2022 – Utter Monster Post Alert!  Get yourself a large drink before attempting this one!

Part One of our Canadian odyssey (rugged-north-west-and-wildlife) ended as we arrived in Vancouver on Monday with the prospect of taking it easy and drawing breath after three full-on weeks of Relentless Tourism.  So, how did we spend our first day of taking it easy?  Of course – an 11-mile walk. With lunch. Obviously.

Actually, one thing first.  Having had a late breakfast (our specialist subject if at all possible) we were psyching ourselves up for going out when we were startled by a loud blast of four chords.  At first, since we’re by the cruise ship terminal, we thought it was a ship leaving, but eventually rumbled that this is something that happens at midday every day in Vancouver – the Heritage Horns. We had actually heard them on our first visit, but because we were by the Gastown Steam Clock, I had thought it was part of that performance.  You can hear the chords as the first notes on the video I recorded at the time:

For our walk, Jane mapped out a route which would see us walking around some or all of False Creek and visiting Granville Island, which are south of downtown Vancouver.   Here’s a map of the first 8 miles to give you an idea of the geography:

To get to Granville Island, you can walk down, erm, Granville Street, along which can be found several interesting buildings which hark back to the early 20th century.

We also noticed, in the pavement, some stars.

This turned out to be the British Columbia Entertainment Hall of Fame.  Immediately we started to try to think of famous Canadian entertainers, roughly on a par with famous Belgians.  Quick!  Name some!

Now I can say I have photos of Michael Bublé and Bryan Adams.

We wondered why Granville Street was the home of this Hall of Fame and eventually spotted a theatre or two, and the Orpheum

originally a vaudeville house and now home to the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.  I hope today’s audience can spot the difference.

We passed an architecturally fascinating building which revealed a secret that I’ll share with you later.

All of a sudden, we found ourselves committed to walking across the water beside a 4-lane highway, which wasn’t the original plan; we’d fondly believed we could find a way directly on to Granville Island, but now were several hundred feet above it with no way down.  We did pass one interesting sight whilst on the bridge, though. All together now, to the tune of “What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor?”:

Again, more on this later.

We (Jane) eventually found a way off the bridge and on to the southern shore of False Creek, hence bypassing Granville Island completely.  But since we had a Nice Lunch planned on the island we knew that we’d be back, so we started off on our trek round the eastern edge of False Creek.

Which is lovely, especially on the glorious sunny day we had.  It offers great views of the city

and look! there’s that fascinating piece of architecture I mentioned earlier.  I shall reveal later the secret of why it doesn’t tip over.

The walk around False Creek is very pleasant; there’s a pedestrian trail and a separate and segregated cycle trail (along which the traffic is occasionally quite dense).  As well as great views of the city, it offers


a formally Protected View between buildings to the Two Lions – peaks which give their name to the Lions Gate Bridge north of Stanley Park;


this cute bridge;


some interesting artworks;


and the Science Park.  This takes you to the eastern end of False Creek.  The route back towards Granville Island along the northern shore is equally pleasant, with many diversion on the way.


The “Time Top”, an installation by Jerry Pethick, which is enlivened by a shoreline cartoon engraved in kerbstones by William Ritt and Clarence Gray


“The Proud Youth“, a new installation from 2021, part of the Vancouver Biennale public art festival;


an installation which presumably moves as the tide changes;


and, bizarrely, under the Granville Street Bridge, a chandelier – again, a newish public art installation from 2019.

So, by this stage we had completed the circuit round the eastern bit of False Creek, but we were now separated from Granville Island – and lunch – by the creek itself.  Fortunately, there’s a ferry service to take one across the gap.

Aquabus (Latin) – to, for, by with or from water.

Granville Island is most noted for its Public Market, which is a wonder – sort of like Borough Market (for those who know it), but more so.

The area outside is also a very nice and slightly quirky place to be,

and you get a great view of the Burrard Street Bridge.

There are buskers and entertainers Doing Their Thangs – this chap was Quinn – ex-Cirque du Soleil and as well as being very skillful (spot the knife coming in from the right for him to catch) was very entertaining.

We walked around the perimeter of Granville Island to get back to the ferry point.  It was very pleasant in the sunshine, with a kids’ splashpark and play area and some nice waterside dwellings.

There were some shenanigans between a “pirate galleon” (note, though the modern outboard engine)

and a poor sap in a small boat, obviously set up to be a target

and then left to bail his dinghy out as the galleon buggered off.

We passed the Ugly Silos again

and discovered that the faces are, you guessed it, a quirky art installation, this one a spray-painted mural by twin brothers Gustavo and Otavio Pandolfo.  Even the gates and fences of this place (a cement works) were decorated quirkily.

Nearby was a pavilion of some sort.  We never established what it was for, but it has some great carvings on the pillars

and there’s another grizzly bear artwork nearby.

We caught the ferry back to the northern shore across a short but busy stretch of water

and walked back to the hotel  along pavements occasionally decorated with leaf imprints

passing the final photo of the day, another scene with interesting light caused by low sun and reflections.

Oh – I must reveal the architectural secret of that remarkable building which appears to be about to fall over.  Here it is, seen from the city side.

What a brilliant design, eh?

That was it for the day, and we had a relatively early night, disturbed only by a strange pulsing buzzing noise which seemed to be coming from outside the hotel.  I went out to check, and there was a huge thumping and rumbling coming from the port as a large container ship was being dealt with; the low frequency and high decibel count of the noise meant that the sound laughed at our double glazing as it passed through into our hotel room.  Fortunately it didn’t ruin our sleep too badly.

We had resolved to make the middle day of our time here a real time to relax.  No, really relax, and save some energy for tomorrow.  So, what did we end up doing? Relaxing in the room?  A spa session?  Gym workout?  Erm – going for a walk.  Only a little one, honest.  We wanted to see the Marine Building,

which is very close to the hotel. Completed in 1930, at the time of its opening it was the city’s tallest skyscraper – and the tallest in the British Empire – and it is listed among the best Art Deco buildings in the world.  Art Deco is catnip to Jane, so off we went.

My word, what a place!

The entrance is a bit of a clue.

and then you step inside….

It’s a treat for the eyes, it really is.  Obvs, we have many more photos, but I hope that gives you the general idea.

We did a small but important piece of shopping whilst we were out (see later) and on the way back saw the cathedral that we’d been unable to get to in our earlier visit to Vancouver. (We’d been to the Holy Rosary Church, but not Christ Church Cathedral).  But there it was, dwarfed by the tower blocks around it,

so in we went.  It’s a delightful interior – calm and quiet, even though the city’s buzz and bustle is only yards away.

It has a fantastic roof

and round the back there’s a cloister garden

upon to which backs the Bill Reid Art Gallery.

As well as this, as we went to do that shopping and walk back to the hotel, Vancouver had, of course, more street art to show:

and other imposing buildings, too.

The small but important piece of shopping?

Now we can relax! See you tomorrow?

 

Aurora approval

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Sunday 28 August 2022 – Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t stay asleep much beyond 8am, and soon it became clear that the same was true for Jane.  Since the weather forecast was for a morning with some sunny intervals and an afternoon with cloud, we decided to go for a walk around Whitehorse to explore it beyond the rather superficial introduction we’d had from Bernie’s city tour.

One can tell, by the way, that it’s summer here from the amount of road construction work that is under way.  Bernie explained that Whitehorse has four seasons: nearly winter; winter; still winter; and road construction.  So it was nice to be able to stroll stroll around on a summer’s day.

Obviously, Whitehorse has a significant historical, erm, significance, from the part it had to play in the good ol’ days of the gold rush.  It is, however, a fairly low-key town; not large, and possible to drive through and dismiss as dull. If you walk around on a quiet, sunny Sunday morning, however, the place has considerable charm.  There’s plenty to enjoy and some things to learn, also.

There are plenty of log buildings, some historical, some more modern.  One of the tourist attractions which I mentioned yesterday is the Log Skyscraper, built in 1947 by one Martin Berrigan.  A massive influx of military personnel and labourers arrived to work on three major construction projects – the Alaska Highway, the North West Staging Route airports, and the Canol Pipeline – during the post-war boom; housing was at a premium (as it still is today).  So Berrigan, having started by building one-storey log cabins, decided it would be more effective to build up; and the log skyscraper was born.

There are, as I say, other log buildings:  a church and rectory;

a cluster of three relatively modern log buildings now used for businesses;

and many historical ones.  One, the original telegraph office, is the oldest building still in its original location, and has been subsumed into the James McBride museum;

and others can be found at Shipyards Park.

There are plenty of historical timber buildings, too, such as the old fire station

and, of course, the railway station marking the end of the White Pass and Yukon route, which linked Whitehorse and Skagway from late in the 19th century.  The railway only runs these days to White Pass (you will remember that we rode this route from Skagway, because you have been paying attention, haven’t you?), but the original rails are still largely in place in Whitehorse as a historical and cultural landmark.

There’s a healthy selection of murals

and statues, some quirky

and some more serious, like this memorial to workers who have been killed;

and many First Nation references and installations.

There’s evidence of a burden of guilt about the original treatment by the settlers of the indigenous peoples (which was at times appalling), along with what seems to be a genuine desire to balance this through recognition and inclusion.

In keeping with many places we’ve been to in what counts to us as the far north (Alaska, Iceland), there are many colourful and quirky touches

alongside some attractive buildings

and some evidence of housebuilding to attempt to catch up with demand for housing.

On the southern edge of the downtown area is the S.S. Klondike, the second of two sternwheelers carrying the name and now a National Historic Site. They ran freight between Whitehorse and Dawson City, along the Yukon River, the first from 1929 to 1936 and the second, an almost exact replica of the first, from 1937 to 1950.

Nearby that is a park which has a delightful kids’ splash park.

There are several fountains which operate in a cycle once a button is pressed.  I was particularly taken with a bucket fill-and-tip installation

and a “ring of water”.

Whitehorse is a small town, but, alongside its significant role in governing the territory, it has some very charming corners.

In the evening, we went for a repeat visit to yesterday’s aurora viewing site.  It was interesting that the lights had already started by the time we got there at about 11pm, in contrast to the day before, when we had to wait 90 minutes for the show to start.  This show was better for spectators – it covered large parts of the sky and was brighter than the previous one – but in a way less good for photography, because there was less variety in the colours on display.  Nonetheless, we got a few images which we think are pretty pleasing.

This one is Jane’s favourite – a whiskery troll’s howling face in the sky.

Thus ended the second aurora session and, once again, we got our heads down at about 3.30am with a hope for some semblance of sleep before we had to get up and check out.  It was our last full day in Whitehorse; we head back to Vancouver tomorrow afternoon for the chance to draw breath before embarking on the next section of this trip.  We look forward to exploring Vancouver in some more detail, so please keep checking in to see what we got up to there.

Whitehorse, Green Light

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Saturday 27 August 2022 – Despite a late night, we couldn’t indulge ourselves with a late rising because we were booked on a City Tour starting at 10am.   We took breakfast in the hotel; it was a substantial rather than a luxury offering, but tasty – and they have Earl Grey tea.  The dining room (in fact much of the hotel)  is set up with vibes from the good ol’ days when people came out here to die whilst failing to find gold.

After breakfast, whilst Jane was discussing the strange antics of the telephone in our room with reception, I popped outside to see what the temperature was.  Looking through the hotel window, I’d been disconcerted to see ice in the gutter outside.

It turned out to be foamy detergent runoff, presumably from cleaning the car. The temperature outside was mild – about 10°C.

For the City Tour our guide was Bernie, originally from Germany but a long-time resident here.  He first took us to the Hydro Dam, which uses the Yukon River for electricity generation.

Impressive as the mighty flow of the river is, it’s not as impressive as the facility that runs beside it – the longest wooden salmon ladder in the world.

These pictures tell only half the story, but, as a digression, if you look at the picture above you can see a beaver in the water.  He obligingly popped out for his close-up (yes, I know I’m making an assumption here; deal with it)

and then rather satisfyingly buggered off before anyone else in our little tour group could get a photo.  The salmon ladder extends out the other way as well before turning back on itself for a total distance of 1182 feet to help the salmon rise 60 feet vertically and bypass the dam, which would otherwise be an impassable barrier.

The dam constructors specifically put in an impassable waterfall to ensure that the salmon made their way up the ladder.

There is a hatchery there, which deals in the Chinook breed of salmon that inhabit the river. Inside, there are  windows into the ladder

alongside much other information about this particular  salmon run, which, at 2,000 miles, is the longest in the world (the red line in this map).

The shape of that red line is used in a rather nice, if slightly dog-eared, artwork outside

and there’s much other artwork on the salmonid theme there

along with a rather depressingly low number of returning salmon counted there this year – 128 so far, when in previous years the total was in the thousands.  It all underlines the increasing challenges the salmon have to overcome in the face of climate change.

Bernie then took us to the Whitehorse visitor centre (via the log skyscraper, of which I hope to write tomorrow). He explained a lot about the geography of the whole vast area – Alaska, Yukon and the North Western Territory

in which mining is a major industry – all sorts of minerals come from this part of the world, celebrated in a display case in the centre.

The other major industries of the area are government – Whitehorse is the capital of the Yukon territory – and tourism. He also explained that it was an expanding town.  There were lots of well-paid job vacancies, but the trouble is that house-building hasn’t kept pace, meaning that accommodation is (a) hard to come by and (b) expensive.

That was the end of the City Tour (it’s a small place, and Jane and I have a plan to walk round it to explore it further tomorrow, weather permitting); but Jane had spotted another tour which looked interesting, to the Yukon Wildlife Preserve. As it happened, Bernie led that tour as well. The preserve is about half an hour’s drive from Whitehorse and is home to around a dozen Yukon species, each in their own natural areas, spread over 350 acres.  One can walk round the 3-mile trails, but Bernie took us in his minibus.  Here’s a selection of pictures of what we saw; each species is in wire-fenced enclosures, some of which are very large and so we couldn’t get close, but we certainly got a flavour of the wildlife and spotted several species we wouldn’t otherwise have been able to see.


bison;


mule deer;


moose;


red fox (actually, this one was wild, nothing to do with the preserve);


thinhorn sheep, female and male;


musk oxen;


mountain goats;


a cute little arctic fox, which Jane captured very nicely;


reindeer, or caribou as they’re known in these here parts;


a scene which should have featured a moose but it was hiding somewhere;

and – my favourite – a lynx.  I wouldn’t have spotted it, but Jane did and between us we managed to get a very satisfactory image even though it was quite distant.  My mobile phone did a great job, here.

There are other photos – no, really – but these are the pick of the bunch in my view.

As I’ve hinted before and elsewhere, we had an activity booked to start at 10.30pm, so we went out for dinner to store up the necessary energy.  Jane’s first choice, a joint called Klondike Rib and Salmon, was taking walk-in customers only and the line of them stretched down the street. So we headed for another place, one Bernie had recommended as we drove around on his tour.  It is called Antoinette’s and has, I think, been recently opened, because they had all sorts of signs around the outside insisting that they were, indeed, open.  They also had a table free, so we had their unusual twist of Yukon and Caribbean cuisine, and very good it was, too.  I’ve not eaten bison or elk before, and this meal enabled me to try both.

Then it was time for our evening activity, which was an attempt to see the Northern Lights; this is actually the principal reason we visited Whitehorse, and was as part of a special Aurora package put together by Northern Tales, a local agency (who also provided our City Tour and Wildlife Preserve tour earlier). We were whisked away to a site north of Whitehorse (and not too far away from the wildlife preserve, as it happens), where there were a couple of heated cabins, drinks, snacks, a bonfire and an open area where we could set up to view and photograph the Aurora Borealis.  As anyone who has tried this will know, success is entirely a matter of chance, and the initial omens weren’t too good, as we drove there through what sounded like heavy rain.  The rain, at least, had largely ceased by the time we got there, and so I busied myself with the relatively drawn-out process of setting up to get photos should the clouds decide to clear and the aurora to turn up. This excursion was basically the reason I had toted a tripod and an extra wide-angle lens with me, though it turns out that I could have left the tripod at home, as they provided some.  Never mind, I am familiar with mine which helps, I think.

After a few minutes, it seemed that the rain was going to hold off, so I set my tripod up with the camera and a remote trigger on it and checked, as far as I could, that I had a working setup. jane helpfully made tea and eventually (because the cabin was too warm and the weather was not cold) we settled down on a seat near my and others’ tripods and stared into the far distance to see if we could see anything happening.  It was really quite dark by that stage, although we could just make out lighter and darker patches; after a while of getting dark adapted, my eyes started playing tricks on me and I could have sworn I saw flickering patterns in the sky and the odd occasional dancing light.  We waited for about an hour, between 1130 and half-past midnight, taking occasional photos of dark sky and clouds.  I got to the stage where I thought I could entitle this blog post “I came for the Northern Lights and all I got was this bloody wildlife” when we thought that maybe we saw a little extra light out to the north.  So I took another photo, and, sure enough there was a tiny flash of green in the far distance.

Was it real?

Yes!

The next 90 minutes was an orgy of photo taking and checking the results as best one can in near-total darkness.  I thanked God for a Nikon product called Snapbridge, which transferred photos from camera to phone, so we could check results on a phone screen rather than on the small one on the back of the camera.

It was great. We didn’t see the gorgeous dancing hanging curtains of light so beloved of marketing departments; but we did see enough to make staying up until 3am worthwhile.

A fundamental truth of the northern lights is that they are rarely bright enough for the human eye to see the colours; camera sensors, however, have greater colour sensitivity.  Often, humans see just a greyish light when the camera shows green.  But sometimes the lights are bright enough so that the cones in the human eye can make out colours; and so it proved now – we could just about make out the colours, although they were much clearer on digital images.

I took a lot of photos.  No, really.  But to save you the agony of looking through them, here’s a video constructed from two sequences of photos from two slightly different viewpoints.

Obvs, I’m pretty pleased with that little selection, but that may just be because I’ve only had four hours’ sleep and I’m getting hysterical.

You’ll be glad to know (yes, you will) that we repeat the whole process tonight, so I may take a few more snaps and share them with you.  Come back tomorrow and see whether the clouds got in the way or not.