Shirley Day, Shirley, BC

Shirley was named in honour of the joke in Airplane that ends with the punchline: 'Don't Call Me Shirely'.  Surely.

Shirely is a small community on the road out of Sooke towards Jordan River, Port Renfrew and the edge of the Pacific.  As you travel through the woods on the border of the Juan De Fuca, you'll pass a swathe of B&B's, cabins and getaway lodges.  There's small holdings and farms, a meadery and The Shirley Delicious Cafe.  Next to the Shirley Fire Hall and the social centre of this settlement.

The lovely Brunette of my Acquaintance knows the area well, selling her baked goods and jams at a market there every couple of weeks.  But once a year, there's the Shirley Fun Day, where everyone in the area and beyond comes togther, buys local produce, meets, greets and eats BBQ salmon.  All intended to raise funds for the fire hall and to keep the community centre running.

It makes the rural crowd proud.  They chat to the neighbours that they may not see quite as often, bond over shared experiences and check in with each other.  Meanwhile, the kids run around and cause gentle mayhem. And the urbanites in their BMWs drive out to buy the most exquisite chocolate brownies I have ever had ($1 a square).

I could have spent a small fortune on veg and jarred preserves, but came away with some fresh Arugla sprouts.  And a belly full of BBQ Salmon.  Which was delicious, especially with a heaping mound of fresh salad (probably not locally grown) and a chuck of tasty olive oil bread.  And some rice.  Pretty good meal for $12.50.

I also managed to win a case of Joia Natural Sodas and a new baseball cap in the silent auction.  The Brunette is not so keen on me wearing a cap all the time. I maintain it keeps the sun out of my eyes and the sweat of my neck.  Though as The Libertines once wrote:

There are fewer more distressing sights than that

Of an Englishman in a baseball cap

And we'll die in the class we were born

Well that's a class of our own my love

A class of our own my love

(A Time for Heroes)

We left the country idyll to the sounds of the loudest Electronic Dance Music I've heard since I went to 'rave' aged 19.  Apart from that, if you are out that way, stop in to the cafe, or the Sunday markets.