Sunday, July 31, 2022

Not Even Not Traveling 11: Washington and Vancouver 3, Port Angeles

Port Angeles to Victoria

On the next morning, we cleaned up, packed up, and headed out to Port Angeles. At one of the docks there, we caught the Black Ball Ferry line on the route between the USA (at Port Angeles) and Canada (at Victoria on the island of Vancouver). The ferry was big and sturdy enough to store about a hundred forty cars below decks. Above, it held more people than cars, of course, including cyclists and pedestrian passengers, and there were plenty of empty seats, although none in the dining area. I wanted to be up top and Diane wanted shelter, so we sat at the top of the three decks in a semi-enclosed space sufficient for two hundred. It held only a dozen. Farther aft on the deck, the space opened up to the sun and an actual hundred passengers roamed and pointed at seagulls. Diane could stay in the shade and I could roam the decks, which I did.

We spent time pointing into the bay, really the Haro Strait, and guessing which island was which. At Victoria, we had to pause to pass through customs. Customs in Canada proved to be friendly, though. We drove through in our rental car.

The woman in charge exclaimed, "All the way from Maryland!"

"We're just going to stay on the island for a few days."

"Well, your records check out." She nodded. "You all have a good time, now."

After a short drive uphill and into town, we booked ourselves into our next AirBNB. This time, the owners were absent and had, a bit weirdly, filled their small driveway with five cars. One of the cars did not fit and had been left on the grass. That meant we had to park in the street. However, when we let ourselves into the basement, the place was nice.

That night, we did a little sightseeing but mostly we hunted up a place for dinner. We chose Six Mile Pub nearly at random and it was better than fine.

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