My husband Dean and I took a quick overnight trip to Victoria this weekend. It’s only the second time we’ve done so, which is a shame given how much we’ve enjoyed it each time. One of the reasons for that is that the travel is just as charming as the destination – we drive less than an hour to Port Angeles, park the car, and hop on the ferry. No freeways, no reservations, no security lines. The ferry ride feels like you might be stepping back in time about 60 years (including that shade of pistachio green interior paint) and the view outside isn’t bad either.
Our only real plan when we arrived was the SPARK Festival tickets we had reserved for the evening (Terminus – good theater, excellent conversation material). It was a typically gray March day but we happily filled it with wandering and grazing, including tea and treats from the fantastic Victoria Public Market and gawking around the Empress (where we had scored a last-minute deal).
Laid-back Canadians, British colonial flair, and home for Sunday lunch! What prematurely old person wouldn’t love it?