So, how does one reintroduce a blog after such a significant
hiatus? I, of course, must first apologise, to what must have been the
thousands of attentive readers which I left hanging by a thread, pondering my
most recent ventures.
As some may know I proceeded from the temperate coastal breeze
of Southern India onto a real winter. Arctic winds, -30 Co , ice
actually freezing its way between the smallest gaps of your window, what else
but the great Canadian outdoors. And whilst five months living in Whistler was
an experience, it was not necessarily an appropriate story to tell. We indeed
partied like rockstars, rode like pros and lived the dream in the Coastal
mountains. But the inevitable routine developed that exists in anywhere you choose
to settle. As such, I thought it worth pausing my writing until I returned to
the road.
Naturally, my nomadic desires got the better of me and I
found myself soon forging ahead with plans for further quests. After some of
the harshest winters I have braved, the idea of Central American sun, amicable
Latinos and the refreshing taste of mescal seemed a natural choice. So $200
later I had a flight to Mexico City. However, this is not a story I wish to
tell just yet, since the adventure began as I set foot out the door.
Leaving Whistler on a crystal blue day inspires you. Admittedly,
you brave your way throughout some pretty tough conditions throughout the
winter. But on a clear day, there a few places more beautiful. I envy the lucky
few who are staying on for a summer of downhill biking, trekking and beers on
the lakes. Getting caught up in a series of goodbyes to the 20-strong Whistler family
that had developed over many nights sitting outside on the balcony, I naturally
missed the Greyhound. So it was only appropriate that I hitched my way out of
town. Canada’s reputation for amicability is by no means undeserved, and 10
minutes later, I was cruising down the Sea to Sky Highway with Tyler, a
tradesman from Pemberton, my destination for the weekend Seattle.
Seattle admittedly had not been on my itinerary, but after a
chance encounter with a university-era friend of my father’s (both having
studied at Queen’s University Belfast before going their separate ways circa
1983). I did not hesitate to take up the offer to discover Northwest America
for the weekend.
After a minor battle with an embittered member of Homeland Security
(where do they get these people?), who insisted I had been denied entry in
2010. I had to refrain from pointing out that the USA had never been of any
real interest to me, particularly in 2010 when I was happily living in
Argentina. However, having held my tongue, I was so graciously allowed into the
country.
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| Seattle's Pike Place vibrant flower market |
My story of Seattle is of mixed perceptions. In all honesty,
I had never paid any real attention to this major urban centre sitting on the
Pacific coast of Washington State. Images of America instead elicit the buzz of
Manhattan or the glamour of L.A. I had, it now seems, neglected a dynamic force
driving the US economy. Seattle is the home to American giants such as
Microsoft, Amazon and of course Boeing. The aura of the city certainly
reflected this, possessing an intellectual, tasteful quality to its personal
charm. Even with the nation as a whole emerging from a prolonged downturn, this
part of the world seemed largely recession proof, with talented young graduates
walking straight from college degrees into well paid professions, much unlike
some of my British counterparts. Whilst there was no denying the wonderful
quality of life enjoyed by Seattle residents, I managed to sneak a glimpse of
Paul Allen’s (Microsoft Co-founder’s) multi-million dollar lakeside compound. I
wondered whether such an affluent community had lost sight of mainstream
America. There is no doubt that faced with highly educated Indian and Chinese
competition, America depends on centers of technological innovation such a
Seattle. However I was acutely aware of the somewhat stereotypical image of
American spending habits, carrying on regardless of the restraint that the
current domestic climate surely demands.
These observations, however, were not going to stop me from
joining the fray and enjoying as much as the city had to offer. So, after a
couple of nights on the town, making sure I upset any lingering assumptions
that the British were a nation of tea-drinking squares. A notion that
apparently still exists amongst a wide body of the populous that has never
managed to leave the state, let alone the country. I donned my backpack late on
a Sunday night for the journey to Mexico. But that, ladies and gentlemen is
another story.
In the meantime, I would like to send my best from Mexico to
my extended family in Whistler. We really did have an epic season and it is
indeed a pleasure to now have a plethora of brothers and sisters from across
the globe. Until we inevitably meet again.
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| Myself and hosts the Skelly family |
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