Seattle, Wa

As rich and varied a place as it is, mention Seattle anywhere on my side of the Atlantic and most people will respond with some mumbled comment along the lines of "Didn't even like Nirvana" or "Bloody Starbucks, there's one on every street corner these days". Maybe it's just the particularly grumbly nature of my countrymen, or perhaps that we just don't know enough about what is an undeniably fantastic city.

The software company powering everything that isn't a Mac and that view from Frasier's apartment aside, there's much, much more to Seattle. During our first visit, my girlfriend and I ticked all the boxes of the usual tourist attractions (namely, the Space Needle, the Experience Music Project and so on - see the post from Fri 29th Feb), but the refreshing advantage of a second spell is that it allows to explore the lesser-know neighbourhoods, the other side of the city. In short, you're able to really get under its skin.

The area of Fremont lies about 1 mile or so outside Downtown Seattle. It's the sort of arty little 'hood to which lefties, artists, poets and people who just love organic coffee and good falafel flock. You might think this means the whole area must be stuck in some kind of ghastly tye-dye time-warp - think again. For such a relatively small area there's a lot to see, most of it nestled in amongst people's homes and small independent business (and, this being Seattle after all, the odd Starbuck's).

This cheery fellow is the 'The Troll', and he lives underneath the Aurora Bridge just up from the main junction in Fremont. He's half-way through devouring a small car, and is a typical example of the little nuggets of quirky creativity found all over the area.

This piece is called "Waiting For The Interurban", and is located just off the major junction in the centre of Fremont. The rough cast aluminium forms depict passengers waiting for a train that will never arrive, alluding to the cancellation of the Interurban service which ran from Seattle to the nearby city of Everett until the 1930s. Towards the far end of the sculpture, not quite visible in the above photograph, is a dog with an oddly human face: that of Armen Stephanian, once Fremont's honorary mayor, who made the mistake of objecting to the statue during its conception.

Former Russian Communist leader Vladimir Ilyich Lenin isn't necessarily the first person you expect to see cropping up in statue form in the continental United States. That's Fremont for you - utterly singular and considering itself completely above any raised eyebrows that might greet such a sight anywhere else in the rest of the country. The statue was originally a commission piece constructed in the Soviet-controlled Eastern Bloc in 1988, and one of the few ever made which depicted Lenin surrounded by guns and fire, noting his status as a violent revolutionary (in contrast to the more common perception as an intellectual and theoretician, usually alluded to by some sort of book-holding or hat-waving). It made its way over to Fremont following the fall of Communism when it was found discarded face down in a park. The work is actually for sale (asking price: $250,000 to anyone with that kind of cash and penchant for late 80s Soviet political sculpture) but as yet its remains unsold, still temporarily watching over Fremont, unofficial guardian of the weekly flea market which unfolds every Sunday under its watchful, Marxist gaze.

As if you needed further reassurance that the residents of Fremont are a bunch of absolute space cadets, such reassurance comes in the form of the above 53' high rocket, attached to a corner of a neighbourhood coffee house. According to the commemorative plaque opposite the rocket, Fremont was discovered to be the 'Center of the Universe" sometime in the 1970s, and the rocket was built in celebration of this. It is emblazoned with the emblem of the Republic of Fremont - apparently the area regards itself an independent state. A little pocket of the city that, quite literally, has to be seen to be believed - all of this and a beautiful riverside setting as well.

To get 'under the skin' of a city, as mentioned earlier, it's sometimes necessary to quite literally delve into its underbelly. The Underground Tour, centred around a few blocks of the historic Pioneer Square district, does just that. Our tour guide lead us underneath the sidewalks of the area, where the city's original form lay bare for all (of us who had paid $14) to see. The original Seattle was built some 8-15 feet lower than the present day city. The tour works its way in between the first floors of the city's founding business and the granite retaining walls which were built to counter the problems of the mud flats on which the settlement rested. For something that's effectively a dusty, debris-strewn basement it was rather enlightening, not least for its dishy insights into the more seedy history of the city and its important figures.

Our hostel was located within a stone's throw of the world-famous Pike's Place Market. When we arrived at the weekend the entire area was buzzing, and by midweek the thousands of people loitering around, chatting and smoking among themselves, had been replaced by a beautiful, floating stream of pink cherry blossom from the many trees which line the avenues.

Then, after nightfall, the neon signs flood the area in an unnatural, but nonetheless beautiful light, the red glow warming the otherwise chilly, windy streets.

Seattle truly is a superb city - for every hackneyed perception anyone might have, there are another hundred different experiences on offer - with the whole even greater than the sum of its parts.

Victoria, BC

Victoria, the provincial capital of British Columbia, is located on the south-eastern tip of Vancouver Island, known as the Saanich Peninsula, just across the water (and a few small islands) from Seattle. In contrast to Vancouver, its larger, edgier and somewhat grubbier sibling, Victoria is every inch the charming, sophisticated seaside city. I hasten to use the word "charming" in relation to any place, as it sits a little too close to "quaint" or even the dreaded "twee" for my liking, but I qualify my assertion of Victoria's charm with a nod to its buzzing nightlife scene around the waterside Downtown area and its wide range of restaurants, offering an eclectic mix of good-value cuisine from all over the world.

Our journey to Vancouver Island began with a short ferry ride, cutting a dash between the rocky outcrops and fuzzy green islands littering the Strait of Georgia, which divides the island from the mainland.

We arrived at our hostel, checked in and dumped our bags before strolling the short distance to the marina, just in time to witness that most spectacular of things: a coastal sunset.The city centre also has a number of beautifully-maintained public spaces, in which my girlfriend was only too happy to pose for the camera.

About 20 minutes to the north-east of central Victoria lies the swanky suburb of Uplands, which borders the leafy campus of the University of Victoria. To the south is the lovely Cadboro Bay area, which comprises a number of very open, sweeping bays and stretch upon stretch of sandy beaches, well used by locals young and old (and their dogs).

As a stop-over which only made its way into our itinerary the day we left Vancouver, Victoria has been a great place to start our travels down the West Coast.

Leaving Whistler behind

After enjoying our last day skiing Whistler mountain on Sunday and Blackcomb on Monday the time has come and the inevitable must to be realised - Leaving Day. I can't recall ever feeling such a mix of emotions: sadness at leaving where, for the last 6 months, I called home; excitement at the prospect of moving onto to somewhere new and unknown. It's undeniable that over the course of an entire winter season you can do so much and accomplish things you'd never imagined, but for every new experience or fresh tale to tell there's at least one thing you wish you'd done (or about a dozen you know you shouldn’t have brought with you, as you try to cram every last possession into a suitcase that you swear MUST have shrunk since you arrived).

Fittingly, it was a hot, sunny day as we left the village, a sure sign that the winter season, and with it my spell as a Whistler resident, had come to a timely end. But the snow-capped mountains made me nostalgic for those powder skiing days. There's no doubt that it wont be the last time I see those breathtaking peaks in the flesh.

But in spite of all of this, the thought of spending the summer in Whistler, staring folornly at grassy slopes which only a few months before lay under metres of snow and frequenting the same haunts as during winter but without the usual few hundred people competing for the same few inches of elbow room, doesn't appeal in the least. It's not so much that I'll miss Whistler for what it is per se, rather I'll miss what it becomes when the temperature dips below freezing, the chairlifts are running and there's good skiing to be had - that is, one of the most exciting places on earth.

My last day of work in Whistler

The dark cloud over my head, the weight upon my shoulders, the constant burden of having to attend to and satisfy the whims of utterly clueless and often horrendously indecisive customers has finally been lifted. I am no longer an employee of Whistler Blackcomb. No more will I have to force a smile onto my face when the laughably inept 'guest' asks me to fetch a XXL-sized fleece for them (no doubt because their fingers are just too fat to file through the rack) or fold an entire pile of tee-shirts only for some belligerent teenage snowboarder with his board pants belted precariously around his knees to unfold and artlessly drape each and every one back on the shelf.

Undoubtedly, this experience has made me bitter. I need to spend the next few weeks being a customer instead of having to tolerate them.

And how am I celebrating this occassion and my last Payday Friday in Whistler? By sitting, in my sweats, blogging. I am a spent force.

Blue skies and new skis

A heatwave has hit Whistler, bringing with it a temperature inversion (for the uninitiated - it's warmer up the mountain than it is in the village, due to all the glorious sunshine) and quite literally tee-shirt weather.With heat comes softer, occasionally sticky snow. While this would normally put a spanner in the works of any good afternoon on the hill, I couldn't have cared less about the snow because I have just picked up a brand spanking new pair of skis. Despite a piece of my binding snapping off within my first few hours of use yesterday, the teething problems appear to have been overcome and I now get all gooey and annoying whenever I take my skis onto the mountain.

The Great Outdoors - Day 4

Our last full day of sightseeing saw us take a turn on the Banff gondola. Ascending some 698m to a height of 2,281m above sea level, the 8 minute journey is breathtaking enough - even better are the panoramic views of the neighbouring mountains and valleys visible from the 1km-long boardwalk system atop the summit of Sulphur Mountain. As the pictures below should demonstrate, we were blessed with a near-perfect day to make the ascent. My girlfriend enjoys the view from the boardwalk:
The day ended in Lake Louise, where the majestic Chateu Fairmont hotel overlooks the lake itself, as if were just another part of the already incredible grounds.

The Great Outdoors - Day 3

Touring the sights of Jasper town takes about 15 minutes at a push (the Marmot Basin ski area situated 19-km away notwithstanding) - with this completed our merry band left the hotel and began driving south through Jasper National Park towards Banff for our best sightseeing day of the trip.

The scenery along the highways we'd seen so far was beautiful enough, but withing the National Park boundaries it reaches a whole new level. Pictured below is Medicine Lake, which is so called because the aboriginal people's believed the draining away of the lake's waters every summer was due to 'big medicine', or magic. The way in which the jagged rock give way to the cool, soft edges of the frozen remainders of the lake is singularly beautiful.

A little way further off the highway was Malinge Lake, notably different for its being rung by thick everygreen forests. Perhaps it was the skier in me but I couldn't help thinking "I could really rip some turns through these" as we walked along their edges.

Next stop was Athabasca Falls, smaller in scale than Helmcken seen the previous day, but with a far more complex arrangement of eroded rocks. The interplay between frozen water, the running stream and the smoothed rocks, almost organic in their shape and formation, was unlike anything any of us had seen before.

The Great Outdoors - Day 2

After a surpisingly good night's sleep in the questionable little town of Clearwater, B.C., we left early in the morning with the prospect of a long drive ahead. Any gripes about our having to resort to staying in a motel where the reception smelled of day-old fish were soon forgotten as we stopped off at Helmcken Falls, about halfway beetween Clearwater and Jasper. The stunning waterfall below was our reward.

The frozen cone visible at the base of the falls is apparently present right the way up until summer, when it eventually thaws - the sound of the torrent of water crashing down into its centre was almost deafening.

That evening we arrived in Jasper, another oddly quiet town, and checked into a proper hotel this time, still revelling in the spectacular natual scenery we'd witnessed so far.

The Great Outdoors - Day 1

Well after dark on Monday night, after a few thousand miles of driving, lots of food (mostly good, some laughably poor), just as much wine, the odd beer and, most importantly, rafts of incredibly spectacular scenery, 4 weary road-trippers returned to Whistler.

The journey began with the picturesque drive out of Whistler village, through Pemberton and a number of other small towns on the way -with the passing of each town, and the slipping further and further way from our amenity-laden resort existence, the landscape grew more and more rugged, nature's contours no longer subject to the designs of man, but instead man's designs forced to fit in around the mountains, rocks and streams.

The term 'breath-taking' doesn't come into it. Less than an hour out of Whistler we came across the first of many beautiful lakes, surrounded by stunning snow-dusted mountains.