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Victoria the Second

August 2nd, 2013

I just got back from a return trip to Victoria—this time with the Tailor in tow.

We were only there for a couple of days, but long enough for me to see the Gardens—and sketch them—

—in their summer colors.

This was the Tailor’s first trip to Victoria, so I got to relive some favorite experiences with him.

Others, on the other hand, were new to both of us—

—and some were complete surprises.

Best of all, I think we had a chance to see the city in its best light.

Leaves through the Looking Glass

December 23rd, 2011

Butchart Gardens photo by Chandler O'Leary

The three days Nicole and I spent in Victoria were star-studded with beauty and color, but nothing was quite so breathtaking as the Butchart Gardens, just a few minutes north of the city.

Now a Canadian National Historic Site, the Gardens were the private grounds surrounding the home of Robert and Jennie Butchart. So the place didn’t feel like your average botanical garden or arboretum. There were no exhibit signs, no identifying plaques next to the different flower types, nothing that created the feel of a museum—instead there was the perfect illusion of taking a stroll around the grounds of a palace, or traveling back in time to the days of manor houses and perfectly-maintained estates. Yet this was no exclusive world; the estate is named “Benvenuto” (Italian for “welcome”). The Butcharts welcomed to their home any visitor who wanted to see it, and they were famous for their hospitality. Jennie had reportedly served 18,000 cups of tea to friendly strangers before her family convinced her to charge a nominal admission fee.

It wasn’t hard to see why the visitors came in droves. Nicole wandered off to admire the variety of blooms, but I stood mesmerized by the light.

Usually gardens in the Northwest have a somewhat otherworldly glow, what with our silver skies and rainy mists. But in full sunshine, the place was an absolute riot of color.

I could have spent the whole day just losing myself in the jewel tones all around me.

But Jennie Butchart’s garden is so much more than a flashy display of color: it’s also a staggering feat of environmental design and land reclamation. Jennie was way ahead of her time.

You see, the Butcharts’ land began as a turn-of-the-century limestone quarry, which supplied Robert’s cement company with raw material. When the quarry was exhausted, all that was left was a barren pit. It was Jennie who had the idea to transform an industrial wasteland into a thing of beauty. She had many tons of topsoil brought in by horse and cart, and over the course of several years, she gradually, patiently reclaimed the land and shaped it into a thriving garden.

The result is the stunning Sunken Garden, a masterpiece of earthworks and living sculpture. I was expecting the Queen of Hearts to appear around a bend in the path, a flamingo tucked under each arm. The perfect English garden.

As I continued along the path, suddenly I found myself transported to Versailles—

—and then to Japan.

Lest I lose my bearings, though, reminders that this is the Northwest were ever-present.

Jennie’s garden has evolved far beyond a labor of love. It’s truly a national treasure, and an international curiosity—we heard well over a dozen different languages spoken that day, and struck up conversations with people from five different continents.

Yet despite the flocks of travelers, it was never difficult to find a moment of peaceful, contemplative solitude. I can’t wait to return, and eventually visit Jennie’s garden in every season of the year.

Tea for two

December 20th, 2011

Tea at the Empress photo by Chandler O'Leary

No stay at the Empress is complete without sitting down to Afternoon Tea.

Now, I love a good cuppa no matter where I am, but leaning back in a squashy chair and gazing upward at something like this makes every sip a little more special.

The Empress has been pouring tea every afternoon since it opened in 1908—it was the first venue in Victoria to offer it to the public.

For over a century it’s been one of the city’s biggest tourist draws, but it was easy to forget all about the crowds. Somehow it felt like a quiet, private meal at the home of a dowager aunt. Not normally my, uh, cup of tea, but I loved how unexpectedly cozy it was.

The scones made me miss the Tailor. He would have loved them—and then tried to figure out the recipe.

The savory course was to die for. It was a curious, perfect mix of England (curried chicken, cucumber finger sandwiches) and the Pacific Northwest (best smoked salmon ever). Two months later, I can’t even look at this photo without the memories flooding my taste buds and making me salivate.

The Inner Harbour just outside the window, a good friend across the table, and a seemingly endless array of flavors to hand: the perfect recipe for a relaxing Sunday afternoon.

Oh, Canada!

December 18th, 2011

Yeah, I know. It’s a week before Christmas, and Hanukkah starts tomorrow. Our tree is up, and we even had our mega-huge holiday party last night (62 people—a new record!). But somehow, my mind is occupied with red-gold maples, not flocked evergreens. Maybe it’s the fact that everyone’s lawns are at their greenest at this time of year. Or maybe it’s the knowledge that once these Festivals of Light are over, there’s still a whole lot of actual winter darkness and that Northwestern silver-grey pall to overcome before the sun returns. Whatever it is, I’m not quite ready to let go of autumn yet. So in between the holiday records and the hall-decking, I find myself poring over my fall photos.

Autumn is always my favorite time of year, and this was a particularly good one. We had more sunny days than we have any right to expect in the Northwest, but that’s not the half of it. This was my thirtieth fall, so for me, there just seemed to be a hint of celebration in the air.

And so to start our next decade off with a bang, my friend Nicole (who also turned thirty this fall) and I spent three glorious days in Victoria, British Columbia.

In order to catch the morning ferry to Vancouver Island, we had to leave T-Town at oh-dark-thirty to reach Port Angeles at sunrise.

With view like this as a reward, though, it was hard to complain about the pre-dawn slog.

The tall cups of hot, strong coffee—and knitting!—keeping our hands warm didn’t hurt, either. After a ninety-minute crossing over the Strait—

—and a tight squeeze through the snug Inner Harbour—there we were.

We checked into our hotel,

and then set out to see the sights—those just around the corner,

and a few slightly farther afield.

We couldn’t have asked for better weather for exploring the city,

or better light for showing off its photogenic side.

And whenever our overstimulated brains needed a break from all the grandeur, we could turn our attention to sights both quaint—

—and cute (as a button).

My favorite thing about Victoria, though, was discovering a visual melting pot of Old World and New World,

and of East and West.

When I think of the American West, what usually stands out in my mind are dramatic natural vistas with little or no human presence. So standing on the other side of the border, and seeing an English-style Parliament complex just a stone’s throw from rugged mountains and First-Nations totems was a little jarring at first glance. But then I realized that Victoria isn’t necessarily a city of contrasts, but something else altogether: a blend of all the best parts of the cultures and environments that have come together here. It was both comfortably routine and utterly foreign at the same time.

And I remembered that all my experiences in Canada have been like that: an unexpected twist on something very familiar. Always at hand is the feeling of great adventure in a strange land—and the sense that home is just around the corner.