Summer Laze

Holiday. It can be a state of mind, sure, I’ll give you that. But it truly only happens in a specific place. When we tell each other memories of our vacation, we usually start with the place. The way the trees drooped down over a boulevard or how the sun set every night beyond your balcony or the way the lavender smelled in the air long after you’d hiked beyond those purple fields lit by a moody afternoon sun or the sound of waves, crashing in the dark just beyond your window.

My holiday place every year is in Kelowna, British Columbia in a region called the Okanagan. It (as in life) has usually become so unbearable in Vancouver by the time July rolls around I am itching to hit the highway and get to my happy place where peaches hang from trees and counters overflow with fresh berries of every kind and I am at peace under the hot glare of a true summer sun. This time around I drove a slow, lazy route up to the Okanagan, stopping in Osoyoos which is a desert and hot as, well you can imagine a desert could be, and then meandered up to Kelowna where I stayed with my ex sister-in-law of nearly 30 years who isn’t an ‘ex’ anymore but a dear friend. She cooks, I eat. A lot. We talk, water the garden, cocktails are made, plans hatched, relationships pondered and dreams unfurled for inspection. Everything is extraordinarily ordinary and simple and satisfying. Salad and herbs freshly pulled get tossed in a bowl with homemade dressing. Magazines get sticky from the heat, and are turned slowly, as you drift off to sleep in the sun. But best of all, I get to laze around with a small dachshund by the name of Louie who is my favourite animal in the entire world. You’d love him too if you met him. You can see him in the slideshow below.

If you are reading this and thinking of coming to BC, please, spend a few days in Vancouver, but ensure you get up to Osoyoos, Oliver and Kelowna and all of the amazing wineries that abound in our beautiful Okanagan. It’s really heaven on earth. And don’t fly. The backroads are what make it a holiday.

 

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New excerpt from Mrs. Everett

My story Mrs. Everett, has still been going on I just haven’t written it down. At any rate, here’s a recent phone call between Mr. and Mrs. Everett. She’s in Umbria *really* living it up now and since she’s in such a good mood, she is uncommonly friendly to her normally freezer-cold husband who we begin to see, is human and just possibly, was once a man who loved deeply. 

E: “What does it look like?”

P: “It looks like someone tossed olive oil and lemon over the landscape and made a salad with it. ”

Long pause.

E: “Why can’t you just ever say something simply?”

P: “I’m not lonely. ”

E: “Why should you be? You’re holidaying.”

P: “I am not holidaying. That’s akin to merrymaking. It’s much more than that.”

E: “Oh, of course. You’re on a journey of the soul.”

P: “Edward…you know it’s just so.. simple to play stupid but in fact I know you are not stupid and I know that you understand everything about this but were you to admit that than you would also be admitting your culpability in it.”

E: “My culpability?Ah! Oh yes, my bank account, right, that’s right, I totally forgot for a moment who is funding this sojourn.”

P: “Did I mention I’m going to visit your sister?”

E: “Peg? Why on earth? You will hate it there. “(Starts laughing).

P: “You think I can’t go to the outback and shear a few bloody sheep? I’m much stronger than you give me credit for Edward. ” (She laughs a little finally as Edward keeps laughing.)

P: “She’s promised me free accom for exchange of some help with getting some exposure for the farm and such. And I should remind you I’ve been living off my own resources.”

E: “Yes, I did notice a rather big drop off after Paris. Your grandmother then?”

P: “Yes.” Prue goes quiet.

P: “I have to go Edward. Don’t–

E: “I won’t, have to run myself….Prue?…I am here, if you do–

P: “I’ll be fine, good night then or rather good morning over there.”

E: “Good night Prue.”

Line goes dead. End of scene.

A Writer Escapes: Turndown Service, Gold Floor and Gargoyles

I often get asked about hotels because I’m slightly obsessed with them. I am surprised when people just book a hotel at the going price and accept a room near a noisy elevator. The thing with hotels is it is a kind of dance between you and the hotel: You are paying for an experience; they are taking your money and providing you with that experience. I can honestly tell you that you can often have a better hotel stay if you befriend ‘your’ staff while staying in ‘their’ house. If you think of it this way, as a house guest, you’ll be more bold in asking your hosts for a few extra things to make your stay in their house memorable. I escaped to one of my favourite old hotels this weekend, which we Vancouverites call the ‘Hotel Van’, that is managed lovingly by Fairmont Hotels and Resorts. I stayed on the Gold Floor (only because I have a friend who kindly gave me a friends rate, thank you RB). I do highly recommend the Gold Floor for an escape from reality, even 24 hours there feels like you’ve really been on a holiday from the toils of life. Restoration in small bits is all I can manage with my hectic schedule I’m afraid.

View from the 9th floor. Note the Gargoyles in the far right picture. Love them!

Since my friends asked, I thought to share a few things you can do to be a good guest and have a better hotel experience.

1. Ask that your details be kept on file if possible. This way, as a returning guest, they already know that you want.

2. When you book, don’t just leave it as an online transaction. Talk to your hosts. Call them up. Say, look, I’m neurotic (that’s how I start anyway), I can’t be anywhere near a service elevator or elevator, screaming baby or newlyweds. In fact, any couples at all. Okay, I’m joking about that part but as a single, well, you know what I’m getting at here I hope.

2. Ask for an early check-in. For example, I arrived at 1 pm versus 4 and got in an extra 3 hours of writing!

3. Ask for a late check-out. I left at 1 pm versus the wretched hour of 11 am which won’t do at all.

3. Ask, if possible, for a hypo-allergenic room. These rooms are likely the newest rooms in the hotel and I’ve found them to offer a more peaceful sleep with less of the ‘hotel’ stuffiness in your head that you might suffer if you are an allergic type like me.

4. Ask for an upgrade upon arrival. Say it nonchalantly, as though you weren’t desperately hoping to have a sunken bath experience where you can kick off your heels in wild abandon. You will be amazed–amazed–how many upgrades I have had with a simple, polite request to my hosts.

5. Don’t hesitate to call the Front Desk. Don’t be afraid to ask for more towels or water or whatever you need. Be kind and gracious of course, because you want to be a good guest.

6.. Ask for a room above the 9th floor. I have unscientifically decided that the sound threshold is usually the 9th floor. Anything below that and you might be woken by couples fighting in the alley below you after a late night party.

7. See if there are add-ons for breakfast or dinner that are less expensive if booked at the time of your reservation. Then, see if you can have them delivered to your room instead. I don’t understand why someone would go out when you can have room service? Well, for breakfast anyway. Coffee amidst white sheets, a New York Times, and fresh strawberries–you get the picture. Heaven on earth.

8. If you want to venture out, be sure to have a good face-to-face chat with the Concierge. They are everything when it comes to making plans. I can’t imagine venturing out in a new city without help from the concierge office. If your husband or partner is one of those types who can ‘do it all on his own’, make some excuse to leave the room and go speak to the concierge. Trust me on this. They know more than any man or woman in that hotel about their city.

A holdover from the Canadian Pacific days, a beautiful brass mail box.

So, if you want to escape from the world, I say, go to a nice hotel. Even if only for a night. And go alone. Really. It’s wonderful. I personally prefer older hotels with a lot of character and history over newer ones. There’s something about the stories  that make me feel part of a grand tradition of guests holidaying.

I live for turndown service and late night dessert.

There’s something about knowing my hosts are there for me if I need them but otherwise I’m cocooned in my own world of words for the duration of my stay. One day, I hope I can live in a hotel a la Coco Chanel.

And no, I’m not joking.