Friends of Friends, or The Kindness of Neighbors

As I am furiously scrubbing away at Laura and Andy's kitchen this morning, there appeared a heavy knocking on their front door. I swing the door open and a gentleman is standing excitedly with two bottles of wine in his hands,

"Laura! We've brought you some...Oh! You're not Laura! Shit!(sorry!)"

We both laughed and and I muttered something of "it happens a lot, we apparently look alike," and he proceeded to hand over the two bottles, a thank you for the honey they had received, chivalrously offering any assistance that I may need while the happy couple is away.

What kindly neighbors, I thought to myself, back to scrubbing in the kitchen, wondering if the scenario would play out as easily in Boston. Not ten minutes later there is another knock on the door and the same gentleman is there, with another bottle of wine in hand.

"It didn't seem fair that your sister is enjoying the Italian sunshine. You deserve a fine bottle of Italian Red!" After thanking him profusely we parted ways, and I still am quite in awe. Bringing a bottle of wine to a neighbor is an excellent kindness, but bringing a bottle of wine to a perfect stranger is quite another thing indeed.

This example is an addition to the growing kindness pile which has been stacking steadily since leaving the East Coast. Yesterday I was hosted in Boulder by the best "friend of a friend" a girl could ask for. I'd met Harvest just once, briefly last summer but had exchanged enough information to have a contact out west. After getting in touch, she invited me to enjoy not only her company, but Dalia's as well, another "friend of a friend" who was in town for a few days. Hosting two friends-once-removed in one weekend may be a lot for some people, but not for Harvest. It was the perfect night of kindred spirits wonderful conversation and most excellent food.

The Dog Days of Denver

There are few better ways to wake up than to surprised laughter as your hear the thump thump thump and POUNCE, of a dog in your bed. As excited to wake me as a child on Christmas morning, Jack's slobbery snout nuzzles me into my first few moments of alertness. And we are laughing.

A good start to any day.

Jack and I have been enjoying each other's company immensely since Laura and Andy left on Friday for their extremely delayed Italian Honeymoon. The dog has got personality. I am sure that I have never laughed so much at another animal, and certainly have laughed more with him than with some people I know. He is quirky and silly and seems to have it in his mind that it is his purpose to entertain me.

And a good thing, too! I don't know anyone here in Denver and am reluctant to try too hard to make acquaintances that I will shortly be leaving once again. I am seasoned at alone-time though. Travels, and pet sitting and my personality are fairly well suited to the solitary life. Still, I wouldn't mind a friend to go to dinner with now and again. I'm getting tired of cooking for myself, but can't seem to justify spending the money on a dinner out without someone to share with.

Denver is growing on me, though. The people are friendly. The food is good. There is a healthy, green vibe. And though “no one comes to Denver because it is really sexy” according to my sister, I can certainly appreciate the appeal. We are close enough to mountains for hiking. There are lakes to walk around and fields to play in. And if you are into winter sports, well, there are few better places in the US. (This being said, I am not into winter sports, in fact hate winter, but would surly be converted were I to stay.)

And happily, I've rediscovered my love for sitting in coffee houses. Working in coffee houses can have the unfortunate effect of leading one to avoid them in their off-hours. I am learning to resist the urges to head behind the counter and make my own coffee (better than they can, of course) and bus other people's tables. I am no longer judging customers when they don't tip. I don't care if they are abusing their wi-fi privileges. I laugh if the barista scowls at me. It feels good to be an anonymous face during the morning rush.

I am currently writing this from the most “1369” like Coffee House that I've found nearby. Though it doesn't really compare, I can appreciate their efforts, at the very least.

The Okanagan Wine Weekend o' Fun

We all know what Canadians are good at. Hockey. Skiing. Saying 'eh?' at the end their sentences.
When you think of good wine though, your mind likely does not jump directly to British Columbia. Italy, Spain, Chile? California, Australia, Argentina? Not too long ago I too would have grouped Canada into the fine wine producing nations such as Antarctica and Ireland. No longer, my friends.

But what would travel be without growth? Without crossing cultural boundaries and breaking down those hard stone barriers in our minds and hearts? You can learn lessons from a book or website, a friend or television screen, but the lessons of true value are the ones we learn ourselves. And so, in a mission of self improvement, a triumphant quest for knowledge, I traveled to the distinguished vineyards of the Okanagan.

We left late afternoon on Friday with a 5 hour drive ahead of us, just two hungry people and foul mouthed dog. Vancouver is superb at many things, but easing traffic is not one of them. Local rumors attribute this to environmentally friendly city planners who want more people to live in the city than to commute. There are bike lanes and pedestrian controlled lights. An efficient bus and subway system, and easily walkable streets. But attempting to get out of the city on any of its major routes has been a nightmare. Eventually we broke free of the bumpers in front and behind of us and were zooming through the blackness the likes of which I've only seen in New Zealand, listening to NPR Food Podcasts and singing whatever songs came clumsily through the intermittent radio. We arrived at our hotel in Kewlona late and not long after were sound asleep, anxious to get an early start on the next day's wineventures.

After a tasty breakfast burrito at the charmingly named “Greatful Fed” restaurant, we were on our way to our first vineyard, Quail's Gate. Being a wine tasting novice, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that yes, they just give you wine. For free. And if you want to try a bit more it is a mere dollar!The wine was tasty, though the tasting room and gift shop were crowded and noisy. I felt slightly uneasy at first gulp, not sure of tasting etiquette or required interaction with the wine pourer. But I relaxed soon enough, and found it an interesting challenge to try to actually taste those notes of nutmeg and hints of pomegranate.

Next in line was Mission Hill Vineyards. A beautiful, hill top estate, complete with church, green patio pavilion, lush amphitheater and slightly snobbish air. The view of Lake Okanagan was spectacular though, and the wine better than the one before. We both adored the 2005 Shiraz, but had a hard time enjoying the smoky tobacco notes of the bolder Syrah.

(Do I sound like a connoisseur, yet? Not to worry, there are more.)

Onward we drove to the Naramata Bench Vineyards in Penticton. The vineyards here were much more our pace. They were small, family owned and not over crowded. There was one to two pourers in each place, all with an intense knowledge and pride in their offerings. We visited Stonehill Estates which had an excellent port, Mistral Estates, whose Chardonnay I really enjoyed (I am not a Chardonnay drinker,) and Spiller Estates, which not only had tasty fruit wines, but also an ice cream stand too cute to pass up.

As we gathered our bearings, ate our ice cream and played with the local dog we were able to really look around us and take in the absolutely incredible scenery. Though the skies had been threatening all day, they had yet to unleash even a sprinkle. The clouds were dark and dramatic allowing sun rays to filter through in reluctant and fierce golden slivers. The vineyards shook in the wind and shone in the sun and the grapes jingled as gems. What a beautiful place, this wine land!

After our break we drove farther up the hill to Laughing Stock Vineyard where a former stock market couple sold it all to live their dream of owning a vineyard. We sampled some of the best wines of the day where all proceeds from the two dollar tasting went to charity. (Is this tax deductible?)

We attended one final vineyard, which was a highlight of the day, at the colorful, fun and beautiful Elephant Valley Vineyards. This, like Spiller Estates was a fruit winery, and the one which sold me on the idea of fruit wine. Not being into sweet wines myself, I was quite pleased to taste the tangy pear and slightly bitter- sour apricot wines. But without a doubt, their cherry port was too good to pass up. We bought a bottle and some chocolate to have for our dessert.

All in all, it was an exquisite day; my first wine tasting experience, my first trip to the spectacular innards of British Columbia, my first appreciation for the wines of Canada.

And when Bryan asked if I wanted to go to one more vineyard at the end of the day, I muttered,

“No, I think I am kind of wine-d out.”

It was indeed, a day of firsts.

The flying of time...

My trip to our friendly Northern neighbor is coming to a close. The last several weeks have passed so quickly and happily that I barely noticed the slipping of September into October. And now here I am with just three days left to enjoy.

How does one jobless lady find time passing so quickly, you ask? I've stayed relatively busy, and amused in my daytime alone hours. I'm half heartedly finishing up a TEFL course, which is so badly designed and written it is embarrassing. I paid for it though, so am determined to plow through. At least I will earn a certificate, if not actual knowledge. I've been reading. I've been going on long walks and cooking and mostly really enjoying being unemployed for a while.

But I know this time will have to draw to a close shortly. I've decided to try to find a job here in Vancouver which poses multiple problems, the biggest being the issue of the work permit. From various accounts I've heard the process is not entirely an easy one, with a large cost and a necessary written job offer to take back to the States to even apply. And still, nothing is guaranteed until I physically cross the border line. Here's hoping the Canadians like me as much as I like them!

Bryan and I have had so many fun experiences here so far. We've tried many, though not enough, of the wonderful restaurants this city has to offer. We've seen beautiful waterfalls and amazing coasts. We rode ferries and had picnics in parks. We've cooked for friends and had friends cook for us. We've found good coffee houses and good people. We've drank too many bottles of good BC wine.

Speaking of which...

What better way to end my month of Vancouver bliss than by going to a wine festival? Tonight we are heading to Kelowna, BC to the Okanagan Fall Wine Festival. I can't wait to see a new part of this province and try some tasty wines along the way!

Monday I fly out and I am so looking forward to my time in Denver with my sister and her quirky husband and most adorable dog. I feel so sure that I've made the right decision in coming out here and exploring things with Bryan and feel so blessed to have time to spend with my sister. How encouraging to follow my gut and have it not steer me down a potholed, muddy path.

Life, it is good.