Friday, September 25, 2009

On the rocks of Galiano

One serious regret: not spending more time on the Gulf Islands of BC. The only island that ferry and train schedules allowed was Galiano. I left Victoria yesterday morning at 10 am and arrived at the mini terminal at noon. There's not much to the port of Galiano, just a convenience store, diner and, strangely, a vintage shop, just in case you wanted to pick up some bespoke barrettes while you were stopping over. I asked a guy at the post office whether I could bike to Montague Harbour, which looked not too far away, had a nice beach and a few shops nearby. Really, I should stop asking people's advice on the biking front. Everyone thinks it's impossible to bike anywhere. Seriously.

I headed down a few winding forest roads, looking for a cove on the east side of the Island. It's all private cottages here and difficult to find public access to the water. But then I saw it - a sign for a trail to the shore. I dragged my bike through the brush, hearing pounding waves in the distance. The forest smelled as sweet as honey, of warmed bark, pine needles and soft soil. And then the forest cleared and there it was - the ocean! The cove was this ocean carved perch of stone. I sat for awhile, looking at the mountain topped peaks on the other side and smelling the stink of seaweed and salt. Wave after massive wave crashed onto the rocks, spreading out and almost touching my toes each time. I decided I was happy - that this had to be the climax of something.

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