Flight delays

                 I have never had a major flight delay before. Seriously. I know, with
the amount I’ve traveled, it seems ridiculous, but thus far I had managed
to beat the odds and routinely show up early to my destinations. My
ridiculously bad luck with getting my luggage off last… now that’s
another story. It was really just a matter of time before my airline luck
ran out, and my timer finally caught up with me on my way back to
Vancouver from a wild, exotic trip to Kitchener/Waterloo, Ontario, Canada.
                It seemed like a good idea at the time – book into the KW airport and
save ourselves and one of Eric’s friends (who picked us up) the hour and a
half drive to Toronto’s beautiful, big, lots-of-flights-to-choose-from
airport. Plus it was CAD$30.00 less on a Westjet seat sale. But signs of
trouble brewed early, when, before we even left Canada, the airline
personally called me at home to tell me our nonstop flight was now an hour
connection in Calgary. Amazing customer service, though. Serious props
to Westjet for that. Plus, I’d never been to Calgary before, so this
could be fun.
                On the way there, it wasn’t bad. Our departure from Calgary was delayed forty minutes, but that just meant more time at the duty free, and I do love me some duty free. Side note – if I haven’t mentioned it before, I
freaking love airports. I love the way they smell, I love all the
luggage, I love the hustle and bustle and I even love the overpriced giant
Toblerones and amazingly cheezy souvenirs. The bigger the better – more to
see! So additional time in a new airport to me is like a little gift from
the airport Gods. Normally I have to haul my grumpy/sleep
deprived/hungover companions there early, only to have them collapse onto a padded bench seat and try to pretend not to know me as I skip through the terminal. This was far more efficient, espeically for a morning
flight. I was hoping to get the same fun in KW on the way home, but when
we landed and, before we even got off the plane Eric’s buddy Kyle texted
saying he knew we had arrived, because we were the only plane there, I
knew this wasn’t the party airport I was hoping for. The arrivals,
departures and luggage carousel were all in the same room, and only two
airlines flew out of here – Westjet and Bearskin – who only flies to
Montreal and Ottawa and whom I had never heard of, depsite all my years in
the travel industry.
                So on the way home after a fantastic week of sun and fun, complete with a family wedding and trips to Canada’s Wonderland theme park and Niagara Falls, I just wanted to get to the airport on time, get on my plane, and have more time to explore the Calgary airport (read: the airport where
there is something to do) on the way home. This is when lightening
struck. Literally. There were weird storms all over Eastern Canada, with
Halifax being lit up like a light show and rain in Kitchener/Waterloo,
despite the heat wave. Our gate (correction, THE gate) had a bar and a
coffee shop and a cart of used books. There was a great fiew out to the
tarmac. And there was no plane. About the time we were supposed to
board, the Westjet girl gets on the loudspeaker and announces that our
plane has circled the airport twice unsuccessfully trying to land, and now
needs to go to Toronto for fuel before trying again. Should only be an
hour delay.
               Five hours later, the recap was this: the flight spent four hours in
Toronto, during which time they were so sure they weren’t going to be able
to make it to KW that night that they offloaded all their passengers and
put them on a bus to KW instead of making them stay on the plane. In the
interim, we were getting half-hourly delays saying the “plane should be
arriving in KW is about 20 minutes”. Naturally. The look on the Westjet
lady’s face was one of pure regret every time she had to make another
announcement. We actually came very close to being boarded on a plane
ourselves and driven up to Toronto to fly from there, but just waiting it
out was determined to be the faster option, so we sat.
                Here’s the thing, though. This actually didn’t bother me all that much.  As an agent I know that the airline is legally obligated to somehow get you to your destination, so if there’s a chance to reschedule you/get you
going ASAP, they’ll do it. I wasn’t worried about that at all. And it
was kind of fascinating watching the reactions of the passengers and the
staff as they sorted through this uncomfortable situation. Normally this
is when I’d get a panic-stricken call from my client, demanding that I get
them to Wherever as soon as possible, despite the fact that I’ve advised
them that it’s way faster and more effective to just talk to the airline
lady yourself, she’s right in front of you. Then I’d spend a minimum of
half an hour on hold with the airline, listening to that spectacular hold
music, and then reschedule you on to the next flight (Which the airline
was totally going to do anyways!), or be told that the situation was
already resolved at the airport and all that holding was for nothing.
Maybe it was because we were such a small group at a tiny airport, or that
our average age was 55 and didn’t include any of the “my time is more
important than yours” businessmen, but most people were remarkably calm
and just went back to their newspapers. When we hit the four hour mark
and it became apparent that pretty much everyone who didn’t live in
Calgary was going to be forced to stay there overnight, people started
getting restless and anyone who could rebooked themselves on the following
day’s flight and went home for the night, leaving an increasingly small
group of us to watch the same newscast that had been on every half an hour
prior. There was a giant snake found in a bathtub in Calgary, by the way.
The group of us actually managed to empty out the little terminal cafe,
until there was nothing left to buy but a banana and some coffee. We took
it as a bad sign when they started bringing out breakfast sandwiches. You
mean we’re still going to be here in the morning?
                     At 1130pm, amidst loud clapping and some kids doing the wave, the plane finally arrived. We were loaded on immediately and took off for Calgary.  Two episodes of So You Think You Can Dance and a whole lot of House Hunters, combined with some horrible failed sleeping attempts and we were finally back at least in Western Canada. Wrong freaking province, but now we were at least within spitting distance to home. And it was 5am our body’s time.

               The instructions were to see the Westjet agents for accomodation
vouchers, and, since we were row 2 and there was nobody in row one, we
were the first off the plane and able to shanghai a gate agent all to
ourselves before we had to fight the crowds. They had a litle package of
a hotel voucher, a taxi voucher to get us there, and vouchers for
breakfast and lunch, if we needed it. Perfect. By now we were exhausted,
barely seeing straight, and grumpy, but the whole thing ran smoothly. Ten
minutes later we were in our room at the Holiday Inn Caldary Airport, and
let me tell you, that bed was so comfortable it was ridiculous. I could
have moved into that pillow for a week. What we got was less
than three hours. Our flight to Vancouver departed at 8, meaning we had
to be checked in and cleared security by 7, and we were on a 630 shuttle
to the airport. Getting up sucked. Seriously. Then some stupid shit who
clearly had a 10am flight and an ego figured he’d show up 15 minutes late
for the shuttle (for the life of me, I don’t get why they waited for him,
there was another shuttle 5 minutes after that), so it lead to some tense
line waiting at check in and security and then a sprint to a cafe to grab
a muffin for a 30 second breakfast before getting to our gate right as
they started loading. The lady at the muffin stand kept saying to me “buy
more, the voucher’s worth $20, you’re only spending $6 and you don’t get a
refund” to which, after the third time, I snapped “just give me my
freaking muffin and let me catch my plane before I hurt you!” You see, I
love airports, but I hate the possiblilty of missing a plane. Not gonna
happen.
              An hour later we were finally back in Vancouver, sunglasses on to cover the bags under our eyes and fueling myself with a slurpee in hopes the
caffiene and sugar would keep me awake. I hopped the train directly to
work and Eric went home to sleep. In my line of work, unless you’re
stranded somewhere that only one flight weekly departs and you have the
possibility to die of exposure/be eaten by sharks/stoned by cannibals,
then you’re going to show up to work. Why? Because the person next to
you has always been through worse. I have to admit, though, that for my
first horrible flight delay experience, it went really smoothly. It was
uncomfortable and exhausting, sure, but Westjet did take full care of us
with no effort required whatsoever by us stranded passengers, and no
additional cost required. Good on you Westjet. Apparently your
commercials are right, you do care.

Tags: Canada, Canada's Wonderland, delayed, Flights, Kitchener-Waterloo, Niagara Falls, Ontario, tired, Westjet

And then she fell – experiencing Vancouver’s ski culture – a beginner’s perspective

It’s where the first ever gold medal was won by a Canadian athlete on home soil almost a year ago.  It’s got great snow, great runs, great facilities and it’s only half an hour from my driveway.  Cypress Mountain had been, until recently, an enigma to me – I knew where it was but had never gone up there.  There was no reason to, because, after all, I am not a skier.    I am the exact opposite of a skier, actually.  If it is possible to be the negative of a skier, that’s me.  I don’t even like being cold.  The only time I previously wore skis was in grade 6 and it ended with me and my sprained ankle being loaded onto a sled and taken away by first aid ski-doo.  And that was flat-land cross country.  So you can imagine the trepidation I felt agreeing to try snowboarding.  But when you have these amazing facilities on your doorstep, it’s stupid not to experience them, right?

When I told my Grandmother my plans she asked sweetly if I was “going snowboarding or snow falling?”  That was not a good sign.  But I’m always up for a challenge, and with good friends, a brave face and a “good luck” A&W hashbrown in my stomach, I was ready to go.  The first thing that greets you at the lodge are the giant lime green Olympic rings which, I swear, are just there to make you feel invincible.  There’s something about seeing them there that suddenly takes over your body and makes you believe that you too are an Olympic caliber athlete.  Clearly this mountain would not accept any less.  And clearly I am totally delusional.  I’m a big believer in that when you look like you know what you’re doing, it helps your performance (see delusional comment above), and once we were all kitted out in our rental gear I honestly thought this couldn’t be nearly as difficult as I’d previously thought. 

Thank God not one of the four of us really had any previous snowboard experience, so we started off the day in the only logical fashion: with a lesson.  It was pretty much us and 100 elementary school kids all learning to swoosh and splat together.  We were the taller ones not wearing neon. It was only when I landed on my knees the first time that my imperviousness started to wane when I discovered that I couldn’t get up gracefully.  It was more like a giraffe trying to drink – ass in the air, knees splayed at odd angles, inner thighs screaming as they attempted to keep the board from flying out from under you and sending you right back to the snow. I’m pretty good at laughing at myself when I tank at something, which turned out to be an invaluable skill.   Two hours later we had mastered the learning hill (six feet of fun with a bench at the top) and I was getting the hang of this snowboarding thing.  There’s still something horribly unnatural to not having your body face in the direction you’re going, and knowing if you try to turn that way, you either stop or fall, but whatever, I was psyched and ready to move up to the big girl hills. 

By big girl hills, I mean the mile long bunny hill.  I’m not that stupid.  To get up there it meant taking my first chair lift, and that was nearly as exciting as the run itself.  It was when we were about halfway up that I remembered that my lesson had not included chairlift instructions.  My boyfriend, who’s lesson had included that important skill, tried his best to talk me through it, but it still ended with me making an ungraceful splat and then trying desperately to crawl out of the way of the incredibly talented 8 year olds who were in the chair behind.  My record for the day ended up at 0 for 4.

Holy crap, this thing looked steep from the top.  Visions of that first aid ski-doo ride started flashing through my head, but I came to snowboard, dammit, I could make it down this hill no problems.  Sometimes being young and stupid works to my advantage.  Face sideways, perfect form… oh shit! I’m going too fast and have no idea how to stop… and I was on my ass in the snow.  I’d made it about fifteen feet.  Now I had been awesome at getting up back on the flats, but when you throw in a 50 degree angle it’s a whole new ball game.  Ten minutes of trying everything I had in my arsenal, including squirming, panting, praying to the Gods of snowboarding and making snow angels (that last part was just to make me feel better.  It was an ugly snow angel with my feet attached together) I had to resort to taking one foot out of the bindings, standing, and buckling myself back in.  Standing back up is the hardest part of snowboarding, hands down.  Take two.  All told, it took me fifteen minutes to get down that hill, complete with two spectacular face plants and a lot of snow stuck in interesting inner places in my gear.  Thankfully, falling didn’t hurt nearly as much as getting up did.

By now I was exhausted.  But the only way to learn something is repetition, so it was back to the chair splat, I mean chair lift.  By the end of the day I was noticeably better, my record was only three falls on the way down, and I was very, very good at taking off and re-fastening my bindings.  I’d only cried once, out of sheer frustration when I fell right at the top of the hill (read: inches before I’d actually started going down it) and had been unable to get up while a kid the size of my right thigh swooshed past me with ease, but that actually turned into my best run of the day, so it had been worth something.   I cannot tell you how much I appreciated flat ground, my running shoes and a hot tea, though.

All told, snowboarding was really fun.  Now I understand why people from all over the world flock to Vancouver just for the mountains, as you can easily head up after a long day at the office and still get a few good runs in before closing.  And it’s conveniently close if you have to be heli-lifted to hospital, so that’s comforting.  I’m not sure if it’s my sport… yet,  I’ll need more practice and the ability to get up and stop without falling (both skills which I’m nowhere near mastering), but I’m not giving up.  Just taking an extended break

Tags: Cyprus Mountain, death, Exercise, falling, fear, fun, skiing, snow, snowboarding, vancouver

California Girl for a week! Part 2: The sequel

…Putting the convertible to good use, the next day we drove an hour and a half up to LA for Universal Studios.  It started off cloudy and nasty today, too, but cleared up so we could groove with the top down on the way home.  I personally feel Universal Studios is the most overrated of the major southern California attractions, as it’s really expensive (both parking and admission) and there really isn’t all that much there.  If my friend wasn’t a movie buff I probably would have skipped it altogether.  The reason to go essentially is the Studio Tram tour, which is always enjoyable and different, as you see the ins and outs of an actual working film studio.  It’s also a major chunk of your day, as when you combine the nearly hour long tour with the line for it, it’s a two-hour experience. The last time I was here I had been on a business trip, so it’s a very different experience to wander around with a bunch of know-it-all travel agents (me included) who ask a lot of obnoxious questions so we can properly sell the park to our clients, as it is to explore in a purely tourist capacity.  This was more fun, but that way they threw in some of the perks, like the VIP tour, for free, so it really came out as a tie.

Late afternoon we’d seen all they had to offer and spent some enjoyable time shopping at the Universal Citywalk right outside the gates.  I’m a big fan of Citywalk, the mix of stores is good, not too expensive, very kitchy and touristy (love my touristy crap!) and a good selection of places to eat, from Bubba Gump Shrimp Co to Taco Bell.  The Sugar candy store even had a ten-pound gummy bear that had me wondering how I was going to get it through customs.  I didn’t.

The following day finally brought the sunshine back with a vengenance, as this was the start of LA’s recent heat wave.  It had to be 40 degrees, but it felt soooo gooood on my shoulders!  We braved traffic back into downtown LA(top down this time) to do some shopping at the trendy Grove shopping mall and the quaint LA Farmer’s Market, which just so happen to be connected to one another.  You know a mall is uber trendy when they offer valet service and have bathroom attendants in the parking garage.  Not kidding.  Never know if I have to tip those people who stand silently in the corner listening to people pee all day…  The shopping there was pretty weak, but that was mainly because neither of us was in need of a $200.00 pair of jeans and the like, but the decor was nice.  Dancing fountains and a central piazza that looked straight out of Italy until you turned around and found yourself facing a 20-screen multiplex movie theatre.

The Farmer’s Market was tiny!  And I mean tiny.  Like thirty different food stalls, two grocery stalls, and ten stores selling crap even too tacky for me, and that was it.  It was more like the LA International food court instead of a Farmer’s Market.  But there were three places that sold handmade ice cream that was really good (according to me and all the signed headshots of celebrities on the walls), and at the Sur La Table kitchen store I did buy this adonrable pan to make handmade mini doughnuts I’m dying to try out, so it wasn’t all a waste.

The real reason we were in LA today was because we had tickets to a taping of the Craig Ferguson Show at CBS Studios.  The studios are actually right beside the Farmer’s Market, too, which is actually how we stumbled upon the market in the first place.  In an incredible twist of fate, our plans for the day had been to scope out CBS Studios, then go to the Farmer’s Market, and then make it back to CBS in time for our afternoon taping.  It was only when we got to CBS that we discovered our planned desitnations were actually in the same place.  High five. 

As an aside, we had a Tom Tom with us and that thing rocks.  With all the lanes and exits and spaghetti junctons in SoCal, that soothing female voice smoothly guided us everywhere with a minimal effort.  Except when the driver failed to listen to her.  Or couldn’t get over into the right lane.  Mostly failed to listen.  Then she gets mad, “as soon as possible, please turn around”  “please turn around” “turn around” “TURN AROUND!”.

Back to Craigy Ferg.  Our tickets were for a 230 taping, but by the time our crowd got wrist-banded, searched by security, all our cell phones confiscated, warmed up and prepped for the rigorous duty of audiencing, it was nearly 430 and we hadn’t seen anything yet.  They instructed us to laugh at all guests equally, not boo if something is offensive, and tone it down if you have one of those “special” laughs (you know who you are).  The warm up guy was really funny, and soon we were in studio, watching the show go down live in font of us.  John Hamm from Mad Men (surprisingly funny and charming), a surprise Betty White (who actually looks her age in person, but who’s still the coolest thing out there), and the creator of “Bored to Death” on HBO (or some network) who was hysterically funny and talked in a onotone about how he didn’t think he had a real penis since his was so small.  No kidding.  It was a riot.  The whole show was ridiculously funny.  Hell, even the guy with the jaunty sweater tied over his shoulders who was pulled onstage and mocked as the “gay guy” despite the fact he was there with his wife and kids was funny.  Good times, good times.  And if you ever wonder if they do edits and takes on a nighttime talk show, the answer is no.  It all plays out rapidly and remarkably smoothly right before your eyes like it would watching at home, minus the commercials.  Loved it!

Back to Disneyland for our last full day in California.  A friend who lives in LA and has a season’s pass came and joined us and it was a lot of fun. I love Disneyland and I love the heat, but mid afternoon we were all feeling it.  The fact that we’d all chosen to wear black didn’t help us out any, either   Now we were able to go back and ride all our favorites, as we’d already hit pretty much everything once we wanted to, as well as do all the last-ditch shopping we had been meaning to do all week.  After dinner at Target (there was no time to stop and eat, there was shopping to do, people!  I literally had chocolate covered cherries straight off the shelf as we perused, then had to run the empty box through the register) we caught an opening night showing of the  new Wall Street movie (air conditioned!) and concluded another fantastic day by watching the Disneyland fireworks from the comfort of our parkview hotel room’s picture window.

Last day.  I can never believe when a trip is over.  And I can never figure out where to keep all our crap.  It never feels like I’m buying all that much as I shop, but when the time comes to re-pack, there’s never any space.  Luckily my friend hadn’t brought a carry-on with him on the way down, so he was able to fly home with all our overflow stuffed animals (when in Disneyland I dare you not to come home without at least two stuffies.  Let me tell you, it ain’t gonna work) in a giant Disney bag.  I’m sure that helped his street cred   We were checked out bright and early, and our last stop was the Crystal Cathedral.  I never thought I’d actually intentionally come to the Crystal Cathedral (I used the bathroom there once years ago, but that doesn’t count), but we needed to pick up some souvenirs for the people back home.  They have a surprisingly large gift shop, and they gave me a free Crystal Cathedral pen with my purchase of an angel decending from heaven (or ascending to heaven, depending on how you hold it) floaty pen.  Bless them.

Saying goodbye to Sally at the Avis lot was a sad, sad moment.  It’s like all my coolness went with that convertible.  But I promised her I’d be back someday! 

Our flight home was surprisingly mellow and easy, thanks to Plants Versus Zombies on iPhone, and before we knew it we were home.  It really was a great trip, some very much needed r&r, a little sun, a lot of fun, and a lot of laughter.  What more can you ask for?  I wish we all could be California Girls (and guys, gotta keep this PC)!!!

Tags: CBS, convertible, Craig Ferguson, Disneyland, fun, LAX, Los Angeles, shopping, sunshine, TV, Universal Studios

California girl for a week! Part 1: the beginning

There is nothing like touching down at LAX, seeing the trademark arched restaurant, the palm trees, the smog and the shuttle buses to Disneyland.  I’ve done this like fifteen times before, but it never fails to make me happy, and last week, that is exactly what I needed.  A little California love.

It was a torrential downpour when we left Vancouver, which only made 25 degrees and sunny all the more fantastic upon touchdown.  The Avis lady successfully upsold us to a silver Mustang convertible (oh my God, that was a hard decision!  The whole conversation went something like this: “Want to drive a convertible?  The upgrade is chea-”  *Interrupted* “We’ll take it”) and soon we were cruising down I-5, top down, Beach Boys blaring at an obnoxious, of-course-we’re-tourists-and-loving-it level.  There’s something about a convertible ‘Stang (we named her Sally, natch) that just makes you feel free, and I found myself looking at the other convertibles we passed as if we were bonded, we had admission into the special club of convertible people.  These strangers were our new peeps.

Soon we checked into our nicely renovated room at the Red Lion Anaheim, applied the sunscreen we should have put on our pasty Canadian skin before renting a convertible (oops), and headed to the Block at Orange for a little first day of vacation retail therapy, dinner and a movie.  I just have to go on record thanking AMC cinemas for having arm rests in their theatres that lift up, so if there’s no one next to you you can pop up all the arm rests and actually get comfortable.  Such a small touch, but it rocks. So much so that I enjoyed that more than the movie

The next day it was onto Disneyland.  If you’ve read my blog before (and if you haven’t shame on you! Lol) you know I’m kinda sorta really obsessed with Disneyland worldwide.  It’s my crack, the addiction I just can’t shake, and if I’m ever within 200 miles of one, you know I’m there.  I’ve been to this park something like 20 times, but the second I enter that central plaza and can hear the Disney classics being piped in over the sound system, a stupid grin affixes itself onto my face and I’m Disnified all over again.  My friend had never been here before, so I kept lapsing into tour guide mode, spouting useless facts and planning a route for optimal rideage, before snapping out of it and just letting him enjoy the experience.  I had never been here for the Holiday versions of the Haunted Mansion and Space Mountain before and I was really surprised at how large a change they are.  I had always assumed they just left the ride the same and threw in some Nightmare Before Christmas/ghostly decor and called it re-themed, but it’s actually a totally new ride experience.  The Haunted Mansion specifically.  The new decor was all-encompassing, the storyline was totally different, the colours were brighter and the overall effect was actually much less creepy than the usual ride.  It was really noticeable near the beginning, when you’re in the stretching room, and normally lightning flashes and you see the hanging corpse above you.  But the holiday version had the same lightning, only accompanied by the not creepy at all smiling face of Jack Skellington.  The Space Mountain:Ghost Galaxy retheme was a little more on the spooky side, with giant projections of space ghosts where the planets normally are, and because the planets are not illuminated, the entire ride experience is darker.  This makes it feel much faster, though the ride itself has not changed at all.

The following day was all Disney, too.  Giddy fun in the warm California sun.  It was hot this day, and mid afternoon we hit up the shops to buy all the breakables (4 mugs between the 2 of us, but they were so cute, we couldn’t resist) and stuff we hadn’t wanted to carry on the rides (a stuffed Yoda will now provide me guidance from the top of my bookshelf) before going back to the hotel.  While my friend slept off the heat, I took my hyper self shopping at the nearby Anaheim Gardenwalk mall.  I know it was 230pm on a Monday, but this area is full of people on vacation, so there was no reason for the mall to be a ghost town.  There were like ten shoppers in the whole place, and most of the people in the halls were employees walking off their boredom.  I couldn’t believe it.  Granted, there really aren’t any flagship stores, unless you like the over-perfumed yuppie clothes of Hollister, and it was too early for the good selection of restaurants to be busy, but still.  It was almost uncomfortable being there.  So I went to Sephora in downtown Disney.  I always got to Sephora in Downtown Disney.  At this point they should just see me coming and greet me at the door with a little basket and my favorite flavour of iced tea.  A girl can dream… But I spent my money like a good shopper, then went back to the hotel, picked up my friend and we headed back to Disney to hit the California Adventure Park.

I always describe this park to clients as a good way to spend an afternoon if the lines at Disneyland get too long.  There just simply isn’t too much there, and consequently the lines are usually short.  Now it’s also massively under construction, as Disney has realized this and they’re in the process of building a big-ticket Little Mermaid Ride, a park, and a whole new Cars Land, complete with giant prefab mountains that were just beginning to take shape.  When this park matures, it’ll be great, but for now all you have to do is make sure you ride Soaring over California and spend some time lost in Disney wonderment at the Animation Studio and you can leave fulfilled.  They have just launched a new World of Colour show that’s supposed to be spectacular, combining projections, lasers and thousands of dancing fountains, but the fastpasses were sold out by the time we got there, and neither of us were willing to start lining up three hours early in order to get a good seat.  That’s precious Disney time wasted.  So maybe next time…  I’ve never seen the Fantasmic show in Disneyland, either, for the exact same reason.

Day three brought a last-minute road trip down to San Diego.  The plan was to enjoy the two hour dive each way with the top down, wind in our hair, but the weather had other plans.  Overcast with a high of 19 degrees meant that it was top up, hoodie on, but the ride was till enjoyable.  We spent the day at the world-famous San Diego Zoo, and I can’t recommend this place enough.  It’s got more species in one place than pretty much any zoo on the planet, it’s nicely landscaped, so you feel like you’re exploring the pathways instead of just walking down pre-fab roads, and it has great gift shops.  What’s not to love?  We saw everything and took the majority of our vacation pics that day…

Tags: Anaheim, California, convertible, Disneyland, fun, Los Angeles, San Diego, shopping, sunshine, zoo

Swords, hair removal and firemen – City Chase 2010 recap!

Another year down, another day of fun and mayhem on the streets of Vancouver, and now we have 365 days to recover for next year’s City Chase!   My legs have that kinda sore “you had a good workout” buzz, my feet are tired, I have turf burns on my knees and am missing a patch of hair from my right arm, and it was totally worthit.  It always is.  For those of you who didn’t read my blog from last year, shame on you.  Because of that I now have to explain again what the City Chase is (everyone always asks), so here’s the reader’s digest version: you and a teammate join 300-plus other teams, are given a clue sheet with a whole bunch of locations/tasks on it, and you have a maximum of 6 hours to get to and complete 10 of these challenges before racing back to the finish line.  How you do this and what order you do these challenges in is totally up to you, the only rule really is that you can only travel by foot or public transportation. Now that’s out of the way, here’s the annual awesome blow-by-blow recap of how we, Team Llamaface! completed the 2010 Vancouver City Chase.

If you saw a whole bunch of people in red jerseys, some with capes and one guy in a banana costume running around on Saturday, particularly around the start/finish line at Granville Square, that was us.  As one tourist commented, “I don’t think it’s the Gay Pride parade, but I’m not sure” which, of course, made us all cheer and high five her as we ran past.  It started right at 10am, when they told us to run to the Olympic torch.  We were off!  Adrenaline was pumping, excitement was swelling, and we still had no idea what the hell we were going to have to do.  At the torch we finally got our clue sheets and set about deciphering where we needed to go.  From advanced hints sent out via Facebook and Twitter on Friday night we knew that there was going to be something at Portside Park, so we decided to hop a bus right there and figure everything else out on the way.

Chasepoint #1 – 8 Legs or None

One team member had to reach into a big bowl of mealworms and wood chips and find a marble.  The colour of the marble determined what your teammate had to do.  I’m better with creepy crawly things than my teammate Eric, so we figured he would draw the marble, because whatever I had to do was undoubtedly going to be worse.  Yep, it was.  We drew the “mystery box”, which meant that I had to draw a number from a bowl and whatever number I drew was the number of Madagasgar hissing cockroaches I had to dig out of a box and put into a bowl.  I’ve actually held one of these things before (long story) and knew they were dry and harmless, so I just jumped in and was done before Eric had the chance to take my photo.  Nine to go.

Chasepoint #2 – Chasepoint #1

This isn’t as confusing as it looks, the Chasepoint was actually titled “Chasepoint #1″ but it was the second one we did that day, so it was our Chasepoint #2.  A clue we had received via Facebook a few days before the race (but we expected this, because this is the only Chasepoint they actually have every year) said that if we raised CAD$50.00 for Right to Play we would get a Chasepoint stamp that we could pick up at one of two places on the course.  Portside park was one of those two places, so fifteen minutes after the race started we had two of ten checked off.  Sweet.  Eight to go.

Chasepoint #3 – BOWLERAMA

The course this year was probably the most logically laid out of all seven years they have had a Vancouver City Chase, as 90% of the points followed the Canada Line Skytrain line, which is exactly what I had hoped for.  The plan was to hop on the train, go to the farthest away point and work our way back, since the finish line was right beside Waterfront Station. This also gave us more time in transit to plan the rest of our route, so we headed to Richmond.  The idea was to find the Richmond Lawn Bowling Club, which we, thanks to our phone-a-friend online at home, had the exact address to.  Well, we get there, are standing at that exact spot, and find… nothing.  It was a housing development.  After wandering around for twenty frustrating minutes, including asking a whole bunch of people, including other lost Chase teams, we decided to cut our losses and abort.  So we hopped back onto the train, pissed that we had spent all that time on the train for nothing.  Damn.

Chasepoint #3 (revised) Fling it Good

I work at Oakridge Mall, so when the clue said to get to the frisbee golf course at Queen Elizabeth Park, I was on my home turf.  We got off at the Oakridge stop (it was hard, but I resisted the urge to run into my office and say hi to my co-workers) and were soon there.  One team member had to try to get a frisbee into the goal in under four shots.  If they succeeded it was all good, but if it was four shots that meant the non-throwing team member had to have a strip of their arm hair waxed off.  Six or more shots they would loose an eyebrow.  Eric is a much better frisbee-er than I am, not to mention he’s go the arm hair of a shetland, so it was very clear right from the start he was going to throw.  The feeling of helplessly watching the fate of your body hair fly through the air was nerve, wracking let me tell you!  But a good first shot got him close and he was nearly done in three, but a missed “put” meant I was getting my arm waxed.  Poop.  That hurt.  How invented this process?  Medieval torturers?  Thankfully you still can’t really see the missing patch of hair, but the wax didn’t all come off my arm, and when I tried to peel it off all it did was make my hands sticky, so I had to complete the rest of the race with a two-inch square of orange wax on my arm. Seven to go.

Chasepoint #4 – The Wanderers

This one was conveniently located right beside the frisbee golf, so for once we didn’t have to worry about bus schedules or how far we had to walk.  Using high-tech orienteering gear (little beeper tags) and a map we had to navigate a portion of the park and clock in at 12 hidden checkpoints in order.  If we got the order wrong there was a penalty.  This one we made up some good time on, even passing some teams who were already on the course ahead of us.  I might not know my left from my right most days, but I can sure read a map   Four down, six to go.

Chasepoint #5 – Barefoot

This one required about 20 minutes of walking to go from Queen Elizabeth Park to Douglas Park, and we didn’t succeed in finding a bus, so our only option was to hoof it all the way.  By now we were tired, but our successes at Queen ElizabethPark had us invigorated.  We were in good shape.  This challenge was to be tied to your partner, three-legged-race style, and dribble a ball with your foot in a slalom pattern between wine bottles.  At each bottle you had to stop and pick up a glass of water and carry on a waiter’s tray, eventually making a pyramid 6 glasses high.  This was frustrating, damp, and my waxy arm kept sticking to Eric, but we did it, no worries.  As we were putting our shoes back on afterwards the announcement went out on the crew’s walkie-talkies that the first place team had crossed the finish line already.  Damn.  We were only half way there.  I don’t know how they did it… they must have run the whole thing or something.  Damn those uber athletic people!  But we were still in pretty good shape compared to most of the other teams we encountered along the way.  Five to go.

Chasepoint #6 – Blind Grams

Once again, this point was only a block away from the last, so we were there before we knew it and ready to rock.  One of us had to be blindfolded and go out into a field and retrieve seven puzzle pieces, directed by their partner’s voice, and then once all pieces were gathered we could remove the blindfold and both put it together in the shape of a swan.  We learned last year that Eric gives good directions (he actually does know his left from right, go figure), so I was blindfolded.  Besides, nobody would believe us if we said he was the better listener ;P !!! Retrieving the pieces was cake, and putting it together only took a bit longer.  Six down, four to go.

Chasepoint #7  Thumb-athalon

A quick five block walk brought us to the Rogers store at the corner of Oak adn 15th, where we both picked up blackberry smartphones.  We sere seperated, and Eric got a clue sheet with 6 questions on it, which he texted to me.  I had to run around the neighbourhood and find the answers, like what the cost of a shwarma plate was at the nearby flafal joint, or how much the transaction fee was at the ATM inside Esquires Coffee.  The questions were the easy part, but for a tech newbie like me, figuring out how to text/send pics back to Eric took 90% of the time!  All told, though, we powered through this and were soon on our way again.  Three to go.

Chasepoint #8  Local Heroes

Another short five minute walk got us to the plaza behind City Square mall, and a whole bunch of firemen.  Insert happy dance here.  When I wasn’t staring at the firemen we had to don firemen’s hats and jackets, drag a weighted dummy around a course, knock over a cone by spraying a firehose, unroll a full-length firehose and then roll it back up and carry it over a marked line.  This is actually the identaical chasepoint they had in East Vancouver last year, so Eric and I powered through this, already knowing exactly what to do.  Which was good, because it gave me more time to stare at the firemen.  Mmmm, firemen…. Two to go!

Chasepoint #9 – National Defense

This is where reading what the challenges are, not just if their location is convenient, is a good thing.  We didn’t do this.  I have a tendancy to never do this.  Hence the fact that last year Eric had to eat canned smoked oysters adn make this awesome gag/puke sound.  Still apologizing for that one.  A few blocks’ walk got us to Jonathan Rogers Park, just off Broadway, and it was only when we rounded the corner that we realized this was a military obsticle course.  Crap.  This is the type of chasepoint that the really athletic people do.  Like the Olympic Triatheletethat won in Montreal.  He would have been all over this.  We, on the other hand, actually went so far as to pull out the clue sheet, determine there really was nothing else remotely close to us and this fit so perfectly in our master plan, and resign ourselves to the fact that we had to do the freaking thing.   At this point in the day anything more than a strong walk took effort, so, like prisoners walking the green mile, we reluctantly reported for duty, Sir.  They smeared war paint on our faces and fitted us with 20-lb tactical vests and helmets, then our (incredibly nice – we lucked out) drill seargenthad us run up and down the embankment four times, then do 15 push ups and 15 sit ups.  Then came the belly crawl, which tore up the insides of my knees and got a really big wad of dead grass stuck to the wax blob on my arm.  Eric, exhausted and the last in line, cried “but I make video games!” as he put what effort he had left into the crawl.  Hilarious.  But we weren’t done.  That would have been too easy.  Run ten feet, drop to your belly, jump up and repeat the pattern 5 times.  Then, holding hands withanother team, run the lengthof the football field and back, ending with a scramble over a picnic table.  Suddenly I felt like a Survivor contestant, the slow one who gets dragged along by their teammates when they’re all tied together for a challenge.  Not good, but we were done.   One to go!

Chasepoint #10 – En Garde

After a few minutes to recover, it was back onto the Canada Line to Waterfront station and our last challenge of the day.  We had specifically worked it so that this point was our last: it was close to the finish line, we knew where it was without assistance, and I was not going home until I’d done the swordfighting chasepoint.  This is the third year they have had fencing/swordplay, and the first two I had missed because it just wasn’t logical to go all the way there on the route I was running.  This year, however, they had given us the clue the night before (in the form of a facebook-posted crossword I was frantically filling in at 11:30 pm) of Academie Duello, the fencing academy right downtown.  Perfect.  We could make our route specifically so this one was included.   So we crawled in, were fitted withfencing helmets, and I got on a wooden horse (can’t help but insert the Old Spice parody here: we now smell like the team you want your team to smell like, and I’m on a horse) holding a shield and six foot wooden spear.  Eric pushed the horse along a course and I had to spear 3 rings as we went.  Then off the horse, he had to do 15 diamond push ups while I fought off an attacker with a longsword.  SWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!  This wasn’t a play sword, either, it was ten pounds of ting!ting!ting! metal and a crazy guy swinging at my head.  Let me tell you, if it wasn’t for that helmet, I wouldn’t have a head, because his sword was bouncing off me like nobody’s business.  After that, to prove that torture is always fair, I had to do 15 burpies(I HATE BURPIES) while Eric defended himself with two metal shields against an equally crazy guy wielding two swords at his head.  Yay helmets.  We made it out barely alive, but we were done!

The finish line was only three blocks away, so we sprinted (read: walked until we knew the people holding the ribbon could see us then ran to make it look like we had energy left) across it.  Done!  Chased and conquered.  We were exhausted, happy, hadn’t fought all day, and thought we had done pretty good.  The official results were just posted today (if you’re not first you’re in the dark for a few days following the Chase, as it takes a few days for the judges to make sure everything is accurate ), and we finished in 98th place!  Out of 351 teams!  In seven years this is the first time I’ve ever broken the 100 mark, and we beat our record from last year by over a hundred teams.  High five!

All told it was awesome, fun, exhausting and I’m totally doing it again next year!

Tags: adventure, City Chase, crazy, fun, The Amazing Race, vancouver

Gearing up for the Vancouver City Chase!

It’s that time of year again: time for the Vancouver City Chase!

Quite possibly my favorite day of the year, it’s the only day that I get to run around like a madwoman, doing all sorts of random adventures in the best city in the world!  At this point all we know is where the start/finish line is and that a secret hint delivered by facebook directs us to Portside Park, but what we have to do there is still a mystery.  Awesome.  And just because they love me (yes, I choose to believe this), they have decided this year to hold it on my birthday.  Yep, Saturday is all about meeeeee!!

So now we’re in prep mode, which is always an interesting thing to do when you don’t know what you’re prepping for.  My teammate is hitting the gym (of course, two whole days of exercise is going to make a huge difference, lol!) and I’m hitting the streets, trying to familiarize myself with the areas downtown I don’t often get a chance to see.  Like I had no idea where Portside Park was until I google mapped it.  With the Canada Line getting you from downtown to Richmond in 20 minutes, that opens up a whole new section of Vancouver that we never could access before, since you would loose too much time in transit to actually complete the race in the allocated 6 hours.  My spider-sense is telling me to check out areas around the Canada Line stops.  Since my office is not too far from a Canada Line station, I already have my coworkers prepped that if I call they’ll quickly do anything I need (love them!).  Going near work would be too awesome for words. But, of course, I could be way off and doing all this for nothing as the route this year could be completely in the other direction.  That surprise is the wonder of the Chase. 

So far this year, in the other City Chases accross Canada, they have done stuff like strip bowling, holding a live crocodile, whitewater kayaking, shooting machine guns and completing a military obsticle course, so God knows what we’ll be asked to do, but one thing’s for sure: it’s going to be epic. 

And I’m going to love every second of it.

Full recap to follow!!!

Tags: awesome, City Chase, race, The Amazing Race, vancouver

Come to Vancouver – we have the best weather!

               Ahh, summer in Vancouver.   Perfect days with a rare cloud punctuating the pure blue sky, a gentle breeze coming in off the ocean, the majestic mountains surrounding us in a comforting hug, and the sun glinting off the glass skyscrapers of the downtown core.  Damn, right it’s the best place on earth.  And you should all drop what you’re doing and come now.  Immediately.  Vancouver wants you.  We have perfect weather, so take advantage of it before stock runs out! 

                Summer finally arrived at the end of June, after the longest winter on record.  Well, technically winter was exactly the same length as every year, but this year it felt like we skipped spring entirely.  But once summer dawned, it hasn’t let up one bit.  We’ve now had nearly a month straight of “coat?  I don’t even need socks in this weather” weather, and I’m loving every second of it.  Life should operate at this temperature every day.  I guess it does in LA, but here we don’t need to deal with nearly as much traffic, garbage, smog, noise…  you get the point.  As much as I appreciate (and boy do I appreciate) the chance to finally thaw, this weather also shows off Vancouver at its best, and everyone needs to take full advantage of it. 

               Right now we’re in the midst of the Symphony of Fire fireworks competition for four consecutive Wednesday and Saturday nights, which floods the shores of false creek with thousands of “ooooh”ers and “aaaah”ers.  Soon we’ll have the Dragon Boat festival, too.  We actually don’t have a deep pool of festivals and events, but the attractions we have year-round are pretty damn spectacular, and when you see them in this fantabulous weather, they’re even better.  You can immerse yourself in the native culture of the pacific coast at the UBC Museum of Anthropology and then get your nekked on at Wreck Beach; shop Robson Street’s trendiness and then finish off the day at a waterfront cafe on False Creek; bike Stanley Park’s seawall, feed the squirrels and enormous raccoons, then visit one of the best Aquariums around to splash with the belugas and dolphins.  A few weeks ago I did the bike thing for the first time since I was like 6 and it was great.  It’s a really smooth, relaxing ride, and a 2 hour bike rental from Spokes on Denman only cost CAD$10.00!    And regardless of what you do, remember to snag a funky twist on lunch at the world-famous Japadog gourmet Japanese hot dog cart.  Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

          But honestly, I’m here in the best place on earth, and I cannot recommend strongly enough that you should be too.  What are you waiting for, people?  We have sun!!!!

Tags: aquarium, best, bikes, BlogSherpa, Canada, fantastic, fireworks, fun, Japadog, Stanley Park, sun, vancouver, weather

ATVs are the new black – Costa Rica, days 8 & 9 – the finale.

So, I’ve discovered I like going fast and I drive like a madwoman.   Plus, I’m capable of doing them both at the same time.  On roads that are little more than goat paths and have ever expanding water features as the rivers roll over them.  All the while giggling like a mental patient and hoping my thighs don’t stick to the seat.  I’m totally okay with all of the above.

Got up bright and early and were picked up by Chino, our super sweet guide (who tried to broker a deal to have me as his fourth wife.  I passed, but I did promise to hang out with him next time I’m in Quepos, although something tells me I’m going to “forget” this) and driven out to London, Costa Rica, population, like, 80.  It was tiny, but cute, with chickens and dogs wandering the street more than people.  We pulled into someone’s driveway (this seemed a little weird until we saw the fifteen ATVs parked there) and, after a quick training course in the fine art of not killing yourself on an ATV, we were off.

It was fantastic.  The path was steep and rocky and wet in places, but that just let you really enjoy what an ATV could do.  This was supposed to be off-roading, and it satisfied. I thought it had been purpose-built for the psycho tourists like us, but after the fact we learned that this actually was the public road in the area.  Fourteen families had no other way in or out of their little isolated village.  Wow.  We had also brought a change of clothes in case we got muddy and messy as the website had warned, but I discovered quickly that if you went faster (and cheered, that was an important part) then teh water sprayed outwards and kept me all dry.

Midway through we stopped and had an hour walk through a beautiful forest and across a suspension bridge that was nothing more than a bunch of metal ladders trussed together a hundred feet up in the air to a waterfall.  This is a perfect place to play and swim, but as it was just the two of us, we opted to just take lots of pictures and dip our feet instead of making the poor guide stand around awkwardly as we splashed in the falls.  Then it was back onto the ATVs and retracing our route back to the start.  On the way back he knew we were capable drivers, so the speeds were much higher, topping out about 50mph.  Sweet.  Only once, when I was trying to avoid some horseback tourists, did I confuse the break and the gas and nearly go shooting off into the jungle.  Leave it to me to only make a mistake when there’s a crowd of people to see it!

Did not want to give that ATV back.  I tried to just drive off, but it just would have taken me too long to drive it all the way back home, and it’s hard to find a good parking space for your ATV in downtown Vancouver, so I left it.

Spent the rest of the day hanging out at the hotel to escape the heat and avoid the torrential downpour that left me epically soaked even under my umbrella when I walked down to the local bodega for supplies.  After that, we deserved a nice dinner, so we cabbed it to El Avion and we got to watch the lightning illuminate the sky from our table under  a plane.

The last full day in Quepos started early, as we had a 6am pickup for our mangrove tour.  They have to start super early to hit the tides at the right times.  Luckily, since the sun rises and sets at 5:00 here, your body clock gets you up early anyway to greet the sun and puts you to sleep early, so that wake up call was not too bad.  The tour group was us and a French family that spoke almost no English, and on our two and a half hour boat tour we saw a few monkeys, some vultures and a couple of skinny raccoons, but that was pretty much it.  Three years ago I had taken the same tour and seen so many animals it was incredible, but today everyone was playing hide and seek from us and they won.  It honestly felt like a colossal waste of time.  And it finished at 9am, so we still had the whole day to fill.

Like every woman, we went shopping.  We got a great deal on a taxi and headed right down to Playa Manuel Antonio, the beach paradise.  I’m far too pale to be a beach bunny, and the sun here fries skin in the blink of an eye (half the people walking around are a painful red colour, and that had already happened to me once this trip, so there was no way I was going through that again), but there’s a few cute souvenir shops and a street market where you can get some good tacky tourist shit (I love this stuff!) as long as you barter for it.  We got a great carved vase for half the price we would have paid in the stores in Quepos.  Of course, today had to be the day it decided not to rain in the afternoon and we tried not to melt as we shopped, took the incredibly cheap public bus back to Quepos, shopped more, and then got all packed up and ready to depart the next morning.

The drive to San Jose was kind of anticlimactic compared to all our other Interbus transfers, as the roads were, well, actual roads the whole way, including an extended stint on a brand new highway.    Our driver took advantage of this by driving super fast, which actually didn’t scare me as much as it should have, I loved the speed.  Clearly the ATV ride has broken my common sense when it came to speeding in this country.  Soon we were back at the Casa Conde, where we discovered our pickup time the next morning for our 10am flight was 515am.  Great.  So we dropped our bags, had some dinner, watched a tiny bit of TV and went to bed early to prep for our 430am wake up call.

Our airport transfer the next day was even early.  He showed up at 5.  Luckily, we were ready anyway, but that got us to the airport at 545.   Cranky and tired and hungry we checked in for our flight, cleared security and hit the food court for a giant cinnabon breakfast.  Normally I wouldn’t  eat 1500 calories of sugary goodness for breakfast, but it just seemed to be a fitting send off for our time in Costa Rica.  It had been a hot, sweet and sticky(with both sweat and rain) trip, and was thoroughly enjoyable.

Pura Vida!

Tags: ATV, beach, BlogSherpa, Costa Rica, crazy speed, hot, mangrove tour, Manuel Antonio, Quepos, sunny

Finding Pura Vida in Costa Rica – Days 1&2

I’m here!  The land of verdant forests, howler-monkey wake up calls and one sweet active volcano in my back yard.  Costa Rica is such a great destination, about the same price as a quick beach vacation in Hawaii, but the diversity of climates, wildlife and crazy adventure activities is so much better.  All you have to do is deal with the eight hour flight time from Vancouver, but it’ s so worth it.

Flew into the Rich Coast with a three hour connection in Dallas on the way.  The Dallas airport is really nice, super modern and clean with some nice artwork (nothing compares to Vancouver international, BTW, but this was pleasant). You can find a hundred different things to eat, but there is pitiful shopping.  Only a small hand full of stores, and they’re mainly convenience stores, so I had to make do with only an armadillo floaty pen and a cow-wearing-a-stetson fridge magnet.  Total shopping fail.

By the time we arrived in San Jose it was late, and we crashed at the Casa Conde Aparthotel and Suites just long enough to wash the flight off, begin adjusting to the crazy humidity and watch some food network subtitled in Spanish.  This property really impressed me, it’s a beautiful Spanish hacienda with attractive stained glass and murals and the condos were fully equipped – I had my own bedroom!  The only downside was that it’s in the middle of nowhere.  You couldn’t just walk down the road, you’d find nothing but small houses, and it wasn’t  particularly the best part of town, either.

For us, it didn’t matter, though, as we were picked up by the ever-prompt and comfortable Interbus for our four-hour transfer to La Fortuna.  This is the only way to travel in Costa Rica, as everything is approximately four hours from the next major center, the roads are hilly, winding, sometimes unpaved, sometimes balanced delicately on the edge of a three-hundred-foot cliff and sometimes completely washed out and consisting of nothing but a couple planks of wood and some caution tape.  I’ve been here twice now and wouldn’t drive here if you paid me.  Interbus is cheap, easy, professional and the person behind the wheel actually knows what they’re doing at all times.  You just have to put up with the sales-targeted souvenir and bathroom break halfway through.  Oh, and the speeds.  Costa Rica does fast.  Carsickness-inducing, swinging from one side to the other fast.  It was awesome.

Later we were deposited at the Volcano Lodge, our haven for the next two nights. Love this property.  Each room is in it’s own little three-room casita, and all have a private veranda with two adorable rocking chairs that looks out to the impressive gardens and the active Arenal volcano.  I can’t get past the irony of my life being total hell at work for the past week with all the canceled flights due to the Iceland volcanic eruption, and here I come on personal vacation to another active volcano.  But it’s worth it, as the clouds have lifted, revealing it’s perfect smoking top, something that happens only like 9 days every year.   We lucked out.  And consequently took ten thousand photos of it to prove it.

The town of La Fortuna is small, cute, and has really good souvenir shopping.  It’s also incredibly hot here.  After the clouds and coats of Vancouver, this 99% humidity and 30-degree sunshine is a real shock to the system.  It really zaps your energy and gives you that wonderful red, damp and glowing complexion all the time.  I’m having to be super careful already, as I’m arctic white and can burn in minutes out here, but really hate the feel of sunscreen on when I’m already sweating my ass off.

So far we’ve essentially been on the road for two days straight, so it’ll be nice to be able to actually rest a bit tomorrow.  That is, after the freaking awesome ziplining!!!!!

Tags: Arenal, BlogSherpa, car sickness, Casa Conde, Costa Rica, Dallas, Interbus, San Jose, shopping, Volcano Lodge

Woo hoo Going to Costa Rica!

      Saturday night I’m taking off for a week of sun and fun in Costa Rica.  Of course I’ll keep you all posted as much as I can while I’m there.  It’s going to be awesome.  Ziplining and exploring in La Fortuna, near the base of the active volcano Arenal. Dancing with hummingbirds, butterfly watching and more ziplining in the Monteverde cloud forest.  Hiking, ATV-ing past waterfalls, kayaking through a mangrove forest, monkey spotting and touring a spice plantation in Manuel Antonio.  Sweet.  Mentally, I’m on my way there already.  And it’s going to be warm, too.  Tank top and shorts weather!  Just dreaming about it is warming me up, I am so over this Vancouver winter, all the cold and rain (naturally the sun is coming out as I write this – leave it to mother nature to bitchslap my complaining), but I can’t wait. 

Tropics, here I come!

Tags: Arenal, beaches, cloud forest, Costa Rica, fun, La Fortuna, Manuel Antonio, Monteverde, travel, vacation, volcano, warm weather, zipline