And I haven’t seen a fraction of it. But this last weekend, I covered just a little bit more, and it was lovely.
On Friday afternoon, the sun came out. On Saturday morning, it was still there. Spring might be coming, folks. I’ve seen daffodils and crocuses. The cherry blossoms are out and there are promises of magnolias – bliss! Now, for those from sunny places, it might not be clear why I can be excited by the prospect of spring. Suffice it to say that a long, grey, drizzly winter does grim things deep in your soul, things that only sunshine can fix.
When the sun comes out, people have a moral imperative to actively get out there and enjoy it. If we ignore this imperative, our lack of proper appreciation could mean the sun will punish us by never coming back again. And who wants that on their head? I certainly don’t.
And so, armed with vague rumours that it was a nice place, we set off on an adventure by sea to the town of Gibsons.
Here is the total of what I knew about Gibsons:
- It’s small
- It’s on the water
Gibsons is a 40 minute ferry ride from Horseshoe Bay, which is quite near our home. (Here’s a map, if you like maps.) On the ferry, some serious research of the brochure section gave me the added information that the town’s claim to fame is that it was the setting of The Beachcombers, the CBC’s longest running dramatic series, which aired from 1972-1990 and centered around “the adventures of a professional lumber salvager and his friends.” Apparently Molly’s Reach, a restaurant where we had some soup on arrival, featured often in this show. It was a heady brush with fame, I tell you.
Gibsons Landing (which is the part that we explored, being on foot) is tiny and charming and has entertaining glimpses of quirkiness. We managed to spend several hours walking around it, but it was a leisurely walk. If efficiency had been our goal, we could have done it all in under half an hour. People were friendly and earnest. It was quiet like a beach town is when it’s not summer yet.
Most of the things that my brochure listed as “things to do in Gibsons” were summer things, so we mostly just wandered around the docks, the rocks, the driftwood, and the arty little shops of the town.
On a whim we decided to spend the night. Using one of my ferry brochures, we picked a B&B that was within walking distance. It was perfect – a huge suite on the bottom floor of a lovely couple’s house with a door that opened out onto the beach.
Honestly, I’m never going to understand time. Usually the more you do, the faster it goes. Weekends never feel long enough to me. But we took a 1:30 pm ferry on Saturday and were home by noon on Sunday, and it feels like we were away for days (in a good, restful way.) Under 24 hours, and I feel vacationed. Sometimes life is just good.