We got into the Vancouver train station just after 12:00.
While I was not the first person off of the train it was not for the lack of
trying. I was however, the first passenger out of the train station's doors. I was
reasonable sure that I had lots of time to make the 3:15 ferry to Nanaimo and
therefore catch the last Greyhound bus to Duncan.
As I got into the Sky Train station I made my usual call for
directions - I just wanted to confirm with the system that I knew the number of
the bus. Much to my surprise, the lady gave me another suggestion. There is a
bus stop just outside the station and the #19 that stopped there would get me
to a point where I could make a connection to the 257 express. I was a bit
apprehensive about taking it as no one had suggested this to me before - but
the bus came, it got me the transfer point - and eventually the 257 came. I think in high season the bus would be filled
by then and I might not get on, but on New Year's Eve - there was lots of room.
I ended up sitting next to a middle age man.... we started
talking about the weather where we were from and where we going. (he was from
Calgary and off to visit friends on Bowen Island). Because we got to the
terminal in lots of time, we continued our conversation about kids and being a
dad. It was quite an enjoyable conversation until we somehow got onto the topic
of oil and he mentioned that there was scientific thought that oil was being
produced naturally. That what we had taken out of the ground was being replaced by some organic process. I never know
what to do when I hear such absurdities. While my first inclination is to laugh
at the person - that always seems a bit rude. So I try to gently argue but for
such folks gentle arguments are futile. The conversation then started to
devolve into some conspiracy thinking around oil price fixing. I suspect it
would have gone further down that rabbit hole but his ferry was boarding and so
our conversation ended. We both agreed that it had been both the bus trip and
the waiting for the ferry had been made more enjoyable by the company. And it
had been more enjoyable. I am glad however that it ended when it did.
My ferry was on time, the crossing although very foggy was
none eventful and when I got to the other side the bus was waiting. No fuss, no reason for anxiety, no problems.
When I think of my travels back and forth across parts of the
country, I sometimes wonder how I got to the point in my life where it seems
normal that I would do so. What had started as a slightly desperate attempt to
find what had happened to my son, has now become a twice a year, common occurrence.
Who would have thought?
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