We're all mad here...

There are two more days to go in the regional tour, and even though I'm having a great time, I can't say I'm not a little glad. Six days of traveling madness after the semi-madness of Kathaumixw proper is making me want to make like the Dormouse and curl up inside a very big teapot. That or cultivate an air of madness by teasing my hair, staring through people and investing in a rather tall hat.

...I guess tangentiality is contagious.

The schedule typically goes something like this: get dropped off by our hosts at some ungodly single-digit hour I'd forgotten even existed, faff about, board coach, drive somewhere (depending on the day, the roadworks/ferry and the farting of the Canadian geese) either towards the place we're going or in the complete opposite direction, get lost, see some mountains and plains and [insert scenery of the day here]. 

We generally arrive at our destination just late enough to get screwed over re: soundcheck, spend somewhere between fourteen minutes and a couple hours at the home of our hosts bolting down dinner and spreading our stuff around the room like someone put a cherry bomb inside our suitcases. Ironing of blacks optional; wrinkles add character. 

Race back for concert, T&T our way through with varied success depending on the day and the song, and return to our hosts just long enough for a cup of tea, a chat (possibly some Gregorian chants and chicken, depending on the town) and bed. Lather, rinse, repeat until suitably exhausted or ready to lose it in a way that makes Krakatoa look like a fart in a bathtub (though thankfully things haven't gotten beyond a slow bubble yet, or at least not in public).

Last night we stayed in a place called Calieden. Don't quote me on that spelling. Our hosts did tell us what the name means, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't 'California is paradise' since we're in Canada and all, but I was too distracted by the fact that we were fanging it down the highway in his cherry red '57 Thunderbird at the time, top down like something out of Thelma and Louise. I'm expecting Brad Pitt to show up aaaaany minute now. ;)

Whatever the name means, sitting on the deck with a glass of sav blanc and a plate of aged cheeses, salamis and capsicum was... Yeah, definitely Fi and I's idea of heaven. And to top it off, there was a cherry tree right next to where we were sitting with easy access cherries ready for picking. Such a hard life. ;)

Karma dictates that we'll be sleeping on the side of the road in a cardboard box tonight, having hit the billet jackpot two nights in a row. Washing is done, we had our own rooms again, and they (like everyone we've met here) were lovely and very interested in our lives and what we do, as well as having a number of rip-snorting stories to tell themselves.

 I'm surprised by the number of people in BC who have been to Australia or know people/rellies who live there, though completely unsurprised by the fact that nobody's been to Adelaide. Even if we have a little more than bogans, balls and beer. 

Things got a wee bit fuzzy after the second glass, but I do believe names like Ronald Reagan and the Queen were dropped, and we found we  had mutual loves of traveling and, apparently, a very civilized glass of wine or two.

We're traveling through the Okanagan region on our way back to North Vancouver and everyone's sleeping or having some much needed chill time. With running streams,trees as far as the eye can see and a whole lot of very big mountains (I wanna say the Cascade Range, please feel free not to correct my probable wrongness), it's a pretty drive. I've got my eyes peeled for animals on the 'to find' list, but I'm not hopeful. We might have to go on that bear hunt after all, though I hear there was a bear in North Vanc that was going fridge-diving in people's houses recently, so maybe I'll just leave a pic-a-nick basket on the back stoop and cross my fingers for some Yogi action. 

Peace out,

J xx