It wasn’t easy, but we made it all 50 miles from Vancouver, home of molasses-coated elevator cables, to Victoria, le home of Le Chateau Victoria, our palatial ensconcement for the next two days.
The subway going out was much calmer than it was coming in, and we made a swift exit, pouncing on a Subway for a Formula 1 water break before hiking up our trousers for a penny-farthing, mid-90’s Jack LaLanne type-look.
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After lunch, we reconvened at what we as ferry connoisseurs would consider something akin to the Nobu of ferries — coffee bar, VIP lounge, yet-to-be-cracked vinyl seating, and no dearth of mossy granite jutting from Tide pod blue seas.
The group split to accelerate our arrival to Le Chateau. One peloton and one bus ride, arriving simultaneously for Asian Fusion before we fused with the Chateau’s sheets.
Tomorrow, museums, IMAX, bike racks, glycogen restoration.
