Sue's Place, Campbell River

About twenty kilometres north of Campbell River on Highway 19 is a sign, brightly advertisings Sue's Place for coffee and baked goods.  Plenty of those sorts of places on the highway, and you'll drive past most of them.  But, having been there once before, two years ago on my way south with my parents, I pulled off the road again for a snack on my way north.  I knew there'd be a good welcome and good food.  Or at least I hoped nothing had changed.

Open from 5am till 3pm, I caught the last half hour of service, but Sue seemed as cheerful as the last time I'd been in.  I ordered a grilled ham and cheese and sidled up to the counter to eat.  The restaurant has two sections: a dining room sized nook at back, and a small counter with a booth at the front.  And a sliding window to sling coffee and baked goods out to those not stopping for long.  You look right into the kitchen, with a big aluminium grill, organized Tupperware and racks of baked goods.  The cinnamon buns are big, and glisten with sugary icing, cake slices are generous and the cheese top rolls (from past experience) are a rich, savoury bun with plenty of sharpness in the cheddar.

Sue was running the place on her own, and got busy with my order while making a couple of cappuccino's for another order.  These were met with much happiness from the lounge on delivery.  I assumed that they'd also ordered a grilled ham sandwich too given by the heaping tong full of meat placed onto the grill... but no.. that was all mine.  A veritable doorstop of a sarnie.  Melted cheese oozing just-so over the hot meat, encased in a thick brown bread wrapper.  Fresh bread, that has that bite when toasted, that crunches and crackles and you chomp through it. That warm, grilled and browned flavour you only get from being on the grill itself.  Perfect road fuel to get you going again and through to the Ports (McNeill, Hardy and Alice).

I chatted quickly to hard working Sue who apologized for not recognizing me from two years ago.  Which seemed like nothing to apologize for... apart from my English accent, I don't think I really stand out that much, and given the number of truckers, tourists and locals who stop by, I am quite happy to be called 'honey' like everyone else.  Such a bright, happy welcome after a ten hour shift, though I think she has help in at other times.  Still, this retirement project seems to be a lot of work, but I am thankful it's there.

My only complaint was Sue takes Sundays off.  So, no coffee and sandwich on the way back south.  Otherwise, avoid Campbell Rover if going all the way north, and stop here for food.

Camping - Gordon Bay, Cowichan Valley

This weekend, it was time to camp for the first time this year.  May Long Weekend but we got it booked up nice and early, with four sites all walking distance apart at Gordon's Bay Provincial Park.  That's on the south side of Lake Cowichan, with is forested hills and steep cliffs sitting over a deep, clear lake.  Very nice views in many places along the road out there.

The camp-site is typical Vancouver Island government... small little clearings surrounded by huge trees and a windy gravel road.  You are separate from your neighbours, but can walk quickly between sites to share beer, coffee or sugar.  You can get a good fire going, for cooking, light or heating, a picnic bench for food prep and eating, water near by and proper toilets in the middle.  The worst problem with these camp-sites is for campers... the flooring is gravel, meaning several layers of padding between you and the ground is essential for a good nights sleep, and getting tent pegs in and out is tricky.  Perfect though for parking up the RV and making a home for the weekend.

I just don't have an RV.  Or a Fifth Wheel... one of those on the site was bigger than most apartments and loomed over the driveways like the Starship Enterprise had landed a shuttle from space to investigate West Coasters.  I swear it had two stories, a garage and patio deck out back.  My little two man tent was the opposite end of the spectrum (though not quite the other end, the hammocks were the real back to nature choice), but suits me well enough. No one quite believes me you can sleep two in there, and the Attractive Brunette of my Acquaintance quite sensible brought along her own neat tent to accommodate her.

So, much Vichyssoise soup was consumed, provided by aforementioned Brunette. Damn fine soup for a warm spring day, washed down with a nice can of Thirsty Beaver from Tree.  A nice warm comfy night.  Except for the perennial problem I have with camping.  Somehow, my bladder -knows- when I have gotten zipped up and ready to sleep. No matter if I have made a pit stop before bed.  No matter if I've not drunk in five hours.  As soon as I am horizontal, and wrapped up, the bladder needs to be emptied.  And no walking barefoot into the woods to relieve myself... that gravel means every step is accompanied by a few choice swear words, waking the rest of your site (and several others).

Damn bladder.

We had plenty of small children running around the site, so to amuse them, there was a 'Go Fish' demonstration by the Freshwater Fish society of BC.  Kids could learn to cast, a little about the biology of fish and the work the society is doing to restock lakes.  Including the use of helicopters and rucksacks to bring fish into remote lakes.  Neat stuff, and I love how the parks seem to put on these activities for the children and add an activity for them to enjoy beyond running around the woods and getting muddy.  Though parents seem to think the latter is character building too.

The evening entertainment for me included several more beers (Bowen Island IPA, Lighthouse Switch Back IPA), smores, bean stew, Fentimann's and Gin for the Palazzo camp-site three of my friends were running (A-Class set up) and fire.  Fire is it's own entertainment, to watch the embers and flames burn, crackle and dance.  Everyone is entranced or just likes to watch things burn...

A warm cosy feeling inside me was with me as we left the next day.  Camping with friends is good for the soul and the shared memories it generates  Though the warm shower afterwards was almost as good a feeling, just not likely to be something I keep with me when I am seventy-five and in my dotage.

Cheers, Camping Friends!

A Tale of Two Coffees

It was best of brews, it was the worst of brews.
It was the age of smooth, fresh java, and it was the age of old coffee grinds.
It was the epoch of belief in something
It was the epoch of incredulity of what yout go.
It was the season of light, well prepared beans.
It was the season of dark, sour rough Americanos.
It was Bubby Rose's Cafe.
It was the Cornerstone Cafe.

In the Cook Street area, we have the well respected Bubby Rose's Bakery Cafe.  Friends of mine rate their bread and bread product very highly.  While the egg salad sandwich I had there probably didn't do the bread justice, the coffee was excellent.  Smooth and well (but not over) roasted, prepared well just to get that punch of a caffiene you want, but not so fast and furious your conversations turn into mad gabbled words. And when one sits down to Coffee with Andrea, one needs to have your wits, least you be found wanting.

The cafe is just a few steps away from Fort Street's antique row.  A a few blocks from Cook Street Village. But close enough if you know where it is, and friendly enough it's worth the visit on a sunny day for a slow coffee on their street front seating.  I also like the dresser which hides the milk, cream and sugar.



Fernwood.  Once the low rent area of Victoria, or so people tell me.  Full of young people renting small garrets from landlords who barely kept their places free from the rain and snow.  At least thats the tale I've been told.  I have no idea, I've not lived in Victoria when Fernwood gained a reputation, that I am sure is undeserved.  Now, it has the Fernwood Inn, Stages, two hugely active resident's associations and the Cornerstone Cafe, a hub for community arts.  A real coffee shop serving the locals, providing space for someone outside to do tarot readings for their friends, and inside for one eccentric old boy to take a nap between the frantic scrawls he's sketching out.

On that score, it's a great place.  I've been down for an open mike night in the past, and a Elvis themed night, where people sang or talked about the icon.  Arts and culture on the low, easy going scale.  Brilliant, except their coffee was terrible when I went in again this past weekend.  Dark, rough and tasting like it was made with grounds recycled, or over used.  It was nasty.

Still, I got to sit outside again, in the sun, and have a pleasant conversation with the aforementioned Andrea.  She likes to be mentioned, so I did it twice.  Hopefully this means she'll link back to me now...



The coffee crawl will probably return this summer... so any suggestions to try out that I've not been to before, fire it away.

Floyd's Diner, Downtown, Victoria

I exercise so I can eat.  Or at least, if I didn't exercise the small amount I do, I'd be a casualty for adult onset diabetes, morbid obesity and various heart ailments as I shifted my carcass around on the long walk from my car to the office.  Considering climbing one set of stairs at more than a slow pace made me breathless in the past, I'm happy that I've gotten a base level of fitness that means come the collapse of Western Civilisation I might survive the first 48 hours.  Like as a minor character who at least gets a mention in the credits with a name rather than 'IT worker corpse #3'.

However, eating the Mahoney at Floyd's to often will put me right back in the un-credited list.  Floyd's is a diner with own unbranded, rough edged charm that I head to sometimes with a bunch of fellow Ultimate discflickers.  And in my mind, because I've run up and down a field for ninety minutes, it means I can eat as big a plate of food as anyone is willing to server me.

Enter the Mahoney.  Floyd's are very proud of the Mahoney.  You can get the T-shirt, the hoodie and possible a baseball cap advertising the 'Home of the Mahoney'.   The Mahoney is whatever the kitchen wants to make you that day, and no two Mahoney's are ever the same.  They've just brought in a policy of no special requests in the Mahoney, so if you just can't stand hollandaise sauce, don't order it, you might get a triple Eggs Benedict on two brown loaves topped with fried chicken.  I do mean a loaf of bread too... portions are epic.  If you are a true gambler, you can flip 'em for the meal, double of nothing.  I never flip.  I don't like losing, and the gamble  for me is the meal, not the $30 potential bill. Plus what does one tip if you win the meal for free?

This latest trip, my Mahoney was a big scrambled egg burrito, toped with guacamole and sourcream, served with a huge helping of friend potatoes, mixed in with cheese, chicken, bacon and chilli peppers.  The breakfast fries were crisp and fluffy, with bacon grease making them double extra tasty.  I loved the spicyness mixed in with the piles of protein, and would have settled for the burrito on it's own.  Great piles of eggs, slightly creamy in texture and nestling into a big white soft taco.

I tapped out after two thirds, and my digestion has been going on for nearly twenty four hours.  I suspect it may be my last Mahoney, as my capacity for big meals seems to have dialled down from 'huge' to 'just a bit larger than average'.  But it was a good one, and I have fond memories of it already...

Otherwise at Floyd's there are other good things too.  The coffee is hot and dark and they will feed you more of it until you get high from caffeine.  The build-your-own egg white omelette (The Seinfeld) is a popular choice for those who want something tasty rather than huge, while a full order of the BC Hash on rivals the Mahoney in size.  Go for the half.

The special yesterday was a seafood quesadilla which the Brunette of My Acquaintance enjoyed (even after stealing my potatoes) with a very sensible (and well made) green salad.   The specials always seem to be interesting, if not quite as off the wall as their sister location at Spoons.

Floyd's staff are friendly and have their own sense of style, which I like.  The place doesn't pretend to be anything it's not.  It's got mix and match furniture, purple painted booths, caricatures of the staff and some of the regulars, chalk boards for the specials and a line up most weekends.

The Local Kitchen, Victoria

It was Times Colonist 10k weekend, and that meant I was doing my best wheezing pig impression at 8.45am, running along Dallas Road in a cloud burst, wondering why in the hell I got up at 6am for this.  But as usual when I am Dallas Road, I saw the sea, the cargo ships, the mountains of the Olympics and stopped caring about the wind whipping through my bones and started to enjoy myself again.  And I came home in a record time (for me, and that's all that I am running against), damp but uplifted.  I love my endorphins...

TC10K weekend also means not being able to get a breakfast reservation anywhere between 9 and 11.  But's that is just fine, as the Local Kitchen didn't open till 11.30 for Brunch, and we were first in line to get our table. Four of us, two of us on post run highs and two of us on post watching runner what-ever-you-call-its.  Only to discover brunch was off, and it was the normal lunch/dinner menu.  No steak and eggs for me.

Instead, I got a cheeseburger and bacon (no veggie burger either... my two post race staples, gone), along with hot, dark coffee and an eyeful of the European Rugby match.  The burger was great.  Juicy inside, with a chargrilled outside, lots of crispy flavourful bits around the tender meat.  There was just the right amount of salad, crispy bacon and a lovely soft chewy kaiser bun.  The cheese was a little light and probably could have been done away with, without making any changes to the meal.  This is no gourmet burger.  Just Canadian pub food done well.

The rest of the menu is the same sort of staples. Chicken burgers, tandoori wraps, huge salads and plates of poutine.  No truffle oils or goats cheese shavings with reductions of raspberry.  Big servings, minimum of fuss, decent price.  The same cannot be said for some of it's neighbours...

The location has had many changes in the years I have lived here, and I'd never been in before, never hearing anything good about the food, the service or the beer.  They seemed to cater for an after work drinking crowd when I worked downtown, and went through a couple of iterations as that, but the Local seems set in, and popular with some of the IT crowd.  The 'KixEye' wings being a sure sign that someone around there goes very regularly. With it's sunny patio, I may suggest it for an evening beverage sometime.

Two things to note, though. First, the men's toilet is a trap. There's a small step up to the porcelain throne, that almost led me to turning an ankle.  I suspect after a couple of beers more than one person has ended up flat out with new bruises.

Secondly, all the servers that day looked the same, except for the lady in the purple dress. I suspect the pod people are taking over, as I swear I saw the same server at Bubby's Cafe later.  Just be warned, the Victoria restaurant scene may be about to be taken over by 20-something brunettes with pony tails, nice smiles and pleasant demeanour.

Though, that doesn't seem like such a bad thing, really.