Monday, July 25, 2005

A day at the beach

I often wonder if Parisiens visit the Eiffel Tower or Notre-Dame, do Athenians pack up a lunch and picnic at the Parthenon? Not that I'm trying to equate my little corner of the world with such beautiful and historic specimens of architectural penis-comparing such as these. My point is that sometimes when things so beautiful and coveted by others are so easily accessible to us, we tend to take these things for granted.

I live near a gorgeous piece of wild west coast property called Tofino and also close by, Long Beach. Tofino is a small village known for it's funky cafes, galleries filled with local art, and free lovin', free livin', nature worshiping, good-old-fashioned hippy folk. Americans pay good money to see this, apparently, because the town is surrounded by huge resorts charging $500 a night to experience these things. You can also open up your large American wallets and buy a spot on a whale watching boat. The whales migrate in Spring and Fall but it appears they're also happy to take your money for a 3 hour freezing cold ride on an open zodiac at any time of the year. You also get to wear an authentic-west-coast bright orange Survival Suit just to add to the reality of the experience. You would definitely need a Hot Stone Massage and a Flower Essence Therapeutic Facial back at the spa afterwards.

Tofino, and specifically Long Beach, are some of the most western parts of Canada, unprotected by any land and open to the Pacific Ocean. The weather can get pretty extreme up there, even in the summer. Some people surf. Or need to be rescued from the under current by the lifeguards. Eventhough Pamela Anderson grew up nearby, I didn't see her or any of her Baywatch friends patrolling the beach when we were there last week. If they did, they'd have been a little more covered up because it was fucking freezing in the sand and wind storm. It was fun watching that guy chase his beachball down the beach for at least 2 km. That fucker was going fast and, despite our doubts, he eventually caught up to it. It was not as fun trying to eat and drink our picnic snacks with the wind blowing sand into every open orifice on our heads. Nor was it fun to scrub off the sand that was embedded in the sunscreen I had slathered onto every exposed surface of my children's skin. Those babies were coated like Shake 'n Bake. Also not fun was the twisty-curvy-up-and-down, roller coaster, barf-inducing stretch of highway you have to drive on for 3 hours to get there...each way.

It's Summer and we're going to have some GD fun for fuck sake!

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