I’m always amused when tourists in London get so excited about the red post boxes. Frequently you’ll see them gathering around, taking group photos invariably thumbs-up, maybe posting in volume to Instagram #redpostbox.
There’s no need to feel smug however as obviously, we do the same type of thing when we are travelling. The locals’ mundane to us seems exciting and interesting. But one event will stand out in that I genuinely don’t understand how anyone can become blase! Mrs K and I took a beach walk on the eastern side of Sidney. Beautiful area. Lots of quiet coves, marinas, hilltop houses. We were admiring one such house. Immaculate garden, with well kept hedges and rose bushes leading down to an picket style fence and archway entrance. And out steps into our view, quite nonchalantly, a young Stag. It stood, perfectly framed by the archway, slowly chewing. Entirely relaxed; just looking at us. It was one of those ‘once in a lifetime’ views. But a number of people, presumably local, just strolled on by. Entirely unimpressed; probably seeing the deer as pests that eat their prize blueberries. Just goes to show what you can get used to…
We are getting used to Saanichton. I’ve even started turning off the Satnav on the regular trips (v. unusual!). It’s our last few days here before we go to Campbell River which is further up on the northern coast of Vancouver Island. So we’ve done more of the local things we enjoy which in this area is mainly about the enjoying the sea views.
On such walk resulted in a guaranteed ‘once in a lifetime’ event. Near to where we saw the Stag there was a piano left for the public to play. Small stand-up variety entirely painted with (I think) sea life scenes. It was placed at a great spot overlooking the ocean. We came across it at the same time as a number of other walkers. Now I’ve been trying to play for years, and I’d never, ever, ever considered playing publicly. But this chap just said to Mrs K in passing isn’t it a shame no-ones playing for us right now. Mrs K, to my chagrin at the time, pointed at me. Next thing I know I’m sitting there playing (very badly) a piece I wrote last year. I’ve never been so nervous; but so pleased to have done it, and thankfully Mrs K recorded a video of it for posterity. But I can promise – never again!