Today was garden visiting day. That was the intention when I set off for the bus station armed with my Serious Coffee. (I will seriously miss this – every pun intended.)
Using the guide sheet from the Information Centre, I aimed for the #30 or #31 bus which run more frequently that the #75 which would get me to the Royal Oak Interchange. The bus duly arrived on time, I deposited my $3 in the machine and the cheerful bus driver bid me good morning and asked if I was going to Butchart Gardens. “How did you guess?” I asked as he handed me a transfer slip. (This enables me to change buses without paying any more money. In Vancouver it was done by magnetic strip on the ticket.) It appeared there were a group of us heading for the gardens (others unknown) of which this guy must have seen a few thousand. Now there is a lesson to be learned here – British transport operators take note – as I will be travelling 21 Km for the equivalent of £1.50! I paid nearly £3 to travel from Rayleigh to Southend, less than 10 Km!
Another thing which impressed me on this trip was the helpfulness of the bus driver. Everywhere I have been in Canada has been geared up for wheelchair access – even the buses. At one stop on our route a group of people were waiting, two of them wheelchair bound. Having ascertained they were getting the right bus the bus driver asked them to “hold on a minute” whereupon the bus lowered itself on one side, a ramp unfolded from the doorway and the driver was already out of his seat folding up the front seats to make way for the wheelchairs. Once the group were on board the driver ensured the wheelchairs were strapped in using seat belts and then resumed his driving duties. This took all of two minutes and I was most impressed with its efficiency. When the time came for them to alight the process was reversed and the wheelchairs exited unassisted and with no problem. I don’t want to knock the home country but I did wonder how this group would have fared in the UK.
When we got to the point where we had to change buses the driver got up and addressed the remaining group, who were all going to the gardens, and told us where we were to catch the connecting bus from (just across the road) and gave us all timetables detailing ALL the bus routes in and around Victoria. He also pointed us to page 151, which had all the relevant bus times for departing from Butchart Gardens, and drew particular attention to the services which ran directly into Downtown Victoria to avoid a bus change on the way back. Thanking him very much we all got off the bus – what a helpful bloke.
The next bus took us right in to Butchart Gardens – well not literally, it would have made a mess of the flowers. One gets off the bus and walks 200 metres to the entrance. All around the parking area, and throughout the gardens themselves, are containers of little clear plastic umbrellas for the use of guests.
And so to the gardens themselves. For all useful information about them plus a virtual tour check out the website at:
http://www.butchartgardens.com/
I can only wax lyrical and list loads of superlatives like wonderful, superb, stunning, etc.
*WARNING* More racist slurs. *WARNING*
I have to get the rant off my chest and then I will feel better. Yes, it’s the bloody Japanese again!
I think these bastards must have special “tourist-cams” i.e. cameras fitted with 200 Gb memory cards for taking pictures of everything – WITH EACH OTHER IN THE BLOODY PICTURE! What is the matter with these people? On first entering the gardens I preceded down the path to the first point of interest, a lovely gazebo full of hanging baskets and the “Dove Fountain” where Mr. Butchart had his dove cote. This was infested with yammering Japs all running around having their pictures taken in front of hanging baskets and then changing places and taking each other’s pictures – I christened it the Yellow Waltz. They were all talking in loud voices (loader than Americans) and I began to realise what an ugly language Japanese can be. They were crashing about amongst these hanging baskets – half of them were swinging in the wake of the “kamikaze wind” – and then they were just moving on to the next spot to have their pictures taken in front of something else totally oblivious to anyone else including their own fellow invaders. (The “holiday photograph show” must be terribly nauseating: Me in front of a plant, Me in front of a tree, Me obscuring a nice view, Me in front of a fountain, Me destroying a hanging basket, Me getting in the way of someone else, Me invading someone’s space, Me in another picture, Me, Me and Me....) By the time I had paused for the twentieth time attempting to take a photograph only to have the Emperor’s Army invade it I was beginning to wonder if two bombs were enough! Coupled with this and Japanese men’s habit of hawking loudly and spitting, I was having a bit of a Jason Bourne moment – i.e. calculating how many I could kill, maim, incapacitate or at least render unconscious in the shortest possible time using only a small plastic umbrella! I thought I could easily reach double figures. These people are just so thoughtless it is untrue. They have no concept of tranquillity. I was getting annoyed at myself for allowing them to annoy me – so I went back to the entrance; chain smoked two cigarettes and then started again!
I had a gentle stroll down the path to “The Sunken Garden”. This, like many other parts of the gardens, is breathtaking. It was the limestone quarry used for the cement factory which used to be where the gardens are now. This alone made me forgive the yellow peril for its desecration. It was amazing and if anyone is not moved by this alone they are either (a) an android – with no emotion chip, or (b) a corpse. The photographs do not do it justice but I have included some (without me in it) just to prove I was there! It was a balm to the soul.
After walking all the way round it twice and up “The Mound” – a central slab of rock covered in ivy – I was all calm and gentle.
On emerging from the Sunken Garden one gets to the Ross Fountain. I stood and watched this for five full minutes as the thing actually dances! It consists of three main spouts but these vary in height, size and shape and the central one has a spiral of water running up it at times. It is quite magnificent! I was so impressed I even took a picture of a Japanese couple in front of the fountain because the bloke asked me very politely – I managed to get them and the fountain in it!
I wandered around the gardens and wondered just how spectacular the rose garden would be in full bloom, it must be a riot of colour and a civil unrest of scent. The size of it and the number of varieties, from all over the world, were impressive nevertheless.
After proceeding past the Sturgeon Fountain (a fountain within a design of three leaping sturgeon) I then hit the next trouble spot – The Japanese Garden!
Oh dear, it appeared as if we had the Axis reunion party going on. A bunch of Germans were route marching through it with the usual Fourth Reich mentality they adopt as soon as they cross their own country’s borders (possibly planning which routes the Panzers should take in order to complete “the pincer” ) and the Japanese obviously felt on home soil so were particularly noisy and thoughtless. The main racket came from the women – perhaps they are allowed to be expressive in gardens – who were shouting to each other across half the garden. They had also invaded, annexed and colonised all the little rest stop areas (I don’t mean toilets, I mean the little shaded seating areas) presumably in a re-enactment of the invasion of Indonesia and were sitting there yammering to each other enough to drown out the sound of the fountains! Oh yes, of course, they were taking pictures of each other in front of every ornament, pond, fountain, etc. I escaped through this to spend a quiet moment looking out at Butchart Cove and take a few photographs until my peace was shattered by an invasion/scouting party looking for a place to build submarine pens and resurrect Yamamoto. I escaped back through the gardens but these were still under occupation so I passed through them rather quickly. A bit of a shame actually as the little information board said that Jennie Butchart build this as a place of quiet contemplation – an even bigger shame that they hadn’t translated it into Japanese!
I headed out to the Star Pond just glad of the peace. Having circumnavigated the Star Pond I completed the Axis by entering the Italian Garden. After looking around this very neatly laid out garden – the info lists it as the “most formal” – I decided to get something to eat.
I made my way back to the bus stop and the 50 minutes ride back into Victoria. This bus went all the way into the bus depot in one hit, so there was no need for a change. As soon as I knew where I was I got off the bus and headed for Serious Coffee in order for my daily “fix”. Armed with this I headed back to the hostel in order to catch up with this and some emails, plus I wanted to listen to the new radio dramatisation of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency.
Before I knew it, it was approaching midnight and I decided to turn in and hope for a decent sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment