Nanaimo – Port Hardy

The alarm clock did its job and woke me at 6:00 – I was waiting for it anyway and had heard Andrew get up just before it went off.

Showered, ready & loaded I headed off to the Great Room (the kitchen/lounge in the hostel & said my farewells to Andrew. He wished me an enjoyable visit to Alaska and I stuck my neck on the line and assured him he would like Banff.

It was raining so I just fastened the jacket and set off for the bus depot. I stopped at Tim Horton’s (just over the road from the bus depot) for some breakfast and coffee and arrived at the correct slot in the depot in plenty of time for departure. Having ensured my bag was loaded on the bus I got on and settled in for the journey. As it was so bleak and grey I opted for listening to some sounds. The good old noise reducing headphones really come into their own in these situations as, once I’d switched them on, I couldn’t hear the bus motor at all only feel it as it was idling. The Music, The Charlatans & T.Rex were my playlist for the journey.
We made a few stops at windswept rain washed bus depots for the exchange of passengers and a bus change at Columbia River. I made sure my bag was switched and then settled in for the next leg of the journey. We made a ten minute stop in Woss, well parked up in a petrol station. I made the dash across the forecourt (with hood up) and got some peanuts & chocolate in the service station. When I came out I decided to join the other five smokers standing about approximately two meters from the petrol pumps. This was obviously not a problem for the management as they had very kindly provided us with an ashtray to use – resting on top of a vending machine. As it was raining hard enough to drive nails and the air was full of spray and water droplets I thought it might take a concerted effort with a flame thrower to actually detonate one of the petrol pumps so had no worries about my cigarette – or any of the others being smoked either. Apart from a road in and a road out – both obscured by falling rain and spray – I didn’t see anything of Woss so could not possibly comment on what it might be like when the rain eases up enough for the ducks to even consider coming out.

Our scheduled arrival time was 15:50 but we were early and arrived at 15:30. This made no difference really as I hadn’t got a clue where I was going to stay or where the ferry terminal was. I therefore praised myself for having the foresight to arrive a day early.

Well, we have all heard the jokes about Buttfuck, Arizona and I am pleased to announce that the Canucks have one of their own – it is called Port Hardy, British Columbia. I am being rather disingenuous because when it is not blowing a gale and raining stair rods form a black and grey sky which looks as if it is frowning disapprovingly on one it might be a very nice place. I only saw one grey clad road stretching left & right as I got my baggage together and looked for some form of shelter. I rejected the bar/diner next to the bus depot out of hand as I thought that once one got inside and found it warm and dry, alcoholism and coma on the floor might become more appealing than going outside in that rain. So I braved it. In fine stoical British manner I set off UP the hill and INTO the rain – I was laughing into my hood as I did so (no not hysterically – yet). I got to the top of the main street where the town ran out – well the dwelling places did and all that was left were a bunch of shops – all closed. (Did they know I was coming?)

Through the murk I saw a sign saying “Seagate Hotel” so I headed towards it. I could see it was aptly named as if I had just blindly put my head down and walked briskly I could have got to the end of harbour and then got even wetter! I didn’t and I found the door.

“Have you got a room for the night?” I asked expecting the answer “Yes”. I was right, I had a sneaking suspicion I would be as the rest of the town was shut. I didn’t even bother asking how much it was, I knew it would be more expensive than a hostel (the hostel was shut for winter) but as the lobby was dry and the place had a roof on it before I walked through the door I thought it would do. If the lady had said $1000 I would have left but as she said $70 including taxes (don’t forget to add the taxes to all advertised prices folks) I dispensed the Visa card with almost the rapidity of a Ninja throwing star and gratefully received a key in exchange. I asked if the quay/harbour 100 metres to the left was the ferry terminal. The very helpful lady told me it wasn’t and I needed to get a shuttle bus to “the other side of the water” where the ferry terminal was. [I refrained from asking if the body of water she was referring to was known as the Styx.]
By the time I had got to my room the telephone was ringing. It was the helpful lady from the front desk letting me know that the shuttle bus would pick me up at the front entrance at 15:00 tomorrow afternoon. I had noticed the check out time of 11:00 when checking in, but she pre-empted any question from me by saying “normal check out time is 11:00, but we are pretty laid back in the winter, so just relax until it is time to get the bus”. This might be a one horse town whose horse has migrated for the winter but the folk (well the one I’ve met) is/are friendly & helpful.

I proceeded to empty my bags and sort everything out – I had a whole room (large and containing two double beds) to use so I put the space to use. I was chuckling to myself as the wind whined & howled outside. Having completed that I looked out of the window and saw it had stopped raining – it was only drizzling! I decided to go out and explore the main street as the day had got lighter.

As I walked down the street I felt like I had been written into a Stephen King novel! The lone mournful barking of a dog didn’t do anything to dispel the feeling. Apart from the convenience store (Needful Thing?), the realtor’s (estate agents to proper English speakers) and an accountants office everything was shut. So if I fancied buying a property and checking my financial ability to do so whilst eating a packet of crisps, I was made up. Oh, hold on, I found a dive shop and that was open – probably does a very good business selling dry suits to the locals! I walked up to the top of the main street and found a diner – well it was the one recommended by the helpful lady – so I will go and eat there in a little while and then settle down to some gaming on my laptop before turning in for the night.
Apparently we are in for hurricane force winds tonight as a big storm rolls in. I heard this from the helpful lady and a Canadian guy (who had lived in London for ten years and is a West Ham fan) who chatted to me for twenty minutes about the UK and places he had been. It is rumoured to get to hurricane force one with a sea swell of 10-15 metres before moving on to bother someone else!

You see what an exciting life I lead in forging my way north to the frozen wastes of Alaska? I do occasionally question my sanity and wonder just how much more remote places can get before I run out of civilisation completely. It is still fun though, so I won’t turn round just yet.