33~Happy Days: A Burritt Blip, Going Yin-side and a Wolff Whirlwind

‘A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.’ ~Lao Tzu Chinese Philosopher 570-490B.C

I had sort of disregarded the intentions for my journey and what would unfold as a result of being in the intended destination; I was so engulfed in the civilisation that was 'The Canadian' that I landed with a bit of a surprise- our train was even early (I guess tearing down the tracks come evening was pretty effective). Fresh (-ish) from the train, disembarking for the last time was strange. Having had bid farewell to Mahina and Samantha, I collected my luggage and collected my thoughts- I was in Vancouver! I would stand outside the station and wait for the Burritts. I must say that I discovered I had train legs; it felt physically odd to no longer be in the locomotive motions and emotionally. Suddenly I was released from the carriages which I had begun to know as home- where friendships and families (and marriages!) are formed fast and the proper use of your legs is not required.

I stood outside of the train station and breathed in what I could see of Vancouver. It was 10:00 on Saturday morning and pretty grey, I had no phone numbers or way of contacting the Burritts but just trusted they would show. Sure enough, like a burst of sunshine, Katie and Liz Burritt came shrieking around the corner to find their long time friend awaiting the pick up. Reese and Jack, Katie’s children looked shocked and shy (not a typical look for these two I soon found out, I assure you) with this extremely exuberant greeting. They soon came round as we bonded over muffins and Rice Krispie buns.

We headed to Main Street to see Harvey at Burritt Bros., which is his wonderfully successful carpet store, a family business going years back. I have fond memories of being here as a kid and hiding between the hanging rugs and I played the same games with Kate's children. It became clear that Reese was working out how I fit into this world. Was I her friend? Where was my mother? As I played so readily her games, weaving in and out of the store, hide and seek, mummies and daddies and all the other imaginative larks she created, I realised that the huge chunk of time had dissolved. Kate and I would play these games some 30 years ago and here now I felt incredibly connected to her 5 year old but also entirely connected to Kate. The years we had apart felt like mere moments. We all slipped back immediately into the comforts of closeness that true friends emanate.

The crew headed to White Rock, out of Vancouver, to Kate’s house; it was quite incredible to see Kate as a mother with a home and husband. I had a fleeting thought that I could not have put myself in a more different place; I had in fact made myself homeless- selling my flat and car and leaving my comfortable life. Choosing a temporarily nomadic existence, rejecting physical attachments and seeking freedom of the open road and a lone traveller. Although our present trajectories were somewhat different, it didn't matter one squidgy bit because we were still the 7 year olds at heart, in rapport and affection. Kate immediately produced a treasured tin that was full of history. We poured over archives in the form of rather embarrassing letters penned during our early teens and also some quite unforgiving photographs. The Wolff’s had left Canada in 1990, much to the devastation of all; Kate and I became devoted penpals and wrote to each other in earnest. The letters always ended with: 'P.S When are you coming to England??' (me) and 'P.S I am working on my mom, I miss you!' (Kate)

I would stay with Liz and Harvey- a childhood dream to be adopted by these two and living it at the age of 35 seemed just perfect. However,  one sleep in my new room, a family breakfast, a shuffle of belongings and repacking and a drop off in the city was next- Kate would leave me with a lift I had organised to get me to my next spot: off grid and kinda near Whistler for a Yin Yoga Teacher Training Retreat. This was the road that would later that day take me there and fill me with wonder:

It felt like not enough time to settle on in to my summer home but it was a nice taster of what was to come.

A quick stop at Crescent beach in the dusky twilight, a bright moon in a lavender sky and home to Liz and Harvey’s all helped to orientate me to this little spot in the world, I packed for the week of yoga and looked forward to my return.

I have to say my week of yoga was quite something. I met some amazing people (from a Texan fireman, to a gorgeous mom and daughter from Montana, a fellow Brit- a fun and funny gal from Manchester, my roomie was a great girl from NYC, a cool girl from Holland was my yoga neighbour and many more- we were quite an eclectic bunch) in an awesome setting, had some sublime yoga sessions, learnt a hell of a lot and felt rejuvenated to have the daily yin pervade my body. Our teachers, Bernie and Diana (and of course each other, the students), blew my mind with their sessions and spirits. I could write so much more about this experience. The komorebi was rife here in our little forest-y haven, as were the snow covered mountains and reflections in the still waters of the lakes.

We had one afternoon off and I headed to Whistler with another Jessica for healthy snacks and to sit near a lake:

I went for a few early morning runs (5:00am in order to make the 6:00am yang yoga session), hoping to avoid the bears that inhabit the surrounding area. I dreamt one night that bears and panthers were on the dirt road and although I did not meet them early morning, I did cut my toe. So perhaps the dream was a sign to keep off the track. A nurse from Kamloops, part of the yoga group, was insistent I get a tetanus shot. So at the end of the retreat I got dropped off from my yoga sanctuary by the Texan fireman in downtown Vancouver. Quite overwhelming!! Realising I had no passport and faculties to speak with people in the real world, instead of heading into the clinic to negotiate an injection and face the costs this would incur, I opted for a blueberry smoothie and a sweet potato scone from Wholefoods. Feeling like an alien (with a bit of a scabby toe); donning a dishevelled mountain look; glazed yoga expression, I waited roadside. I was clutching my scone on Cambie and Main Street, in the hope to be collected by Kate’s husband Keith. 

Fortunately, I was indeed spirited away and in the comfort of Keith’s care we headed to white Rock, where at least the trees are in abundance and the smaller town vibe resides. I scooted with Reese and we had pizza while I gave Kate a taster of the Thai massage I had just learnt that morning. Life would became homogenous again, instead of being made up of detached fragments. A home to reside in, with my own room and family. (Although I am beginning to realise how, really, each little spot quickly becomes home and it is amazing how quickly you settle. )As we chatted away, I realised that Mama Wolff and Richard would be arriving the following day and a whole new world would open up once again.

Liz and I went to greet Mama W and Richard at the airport and it felt so strange to see them coming down the stretch from arrivals; the last time I had seen them was in London St Pancras and they fussed as I went to fetch the tube and I had to shoo them away! Of course the impossibly segregated worlds of a traveller and home are no longer so separate, with the modern technologies blurring the appearance of distance. But here they were, in Canada, ready for their holidays! So we all stayed at Liz’s and we had a grand time. Liz as always, creates a delicious spread seemingly from nowhere- she has a particular predilection (and talent) for awesome crudites and a dill dip that Mama Wolff loves.

Riot and mirth perpetuated our time here. Reminiscing and storytelling punctuated our evenings, afternoons and mornings. It thrilled me to see my mom so happy- back with her friends, full of verve and chatter. These friends we had lived so closely alongside 25 years ago have always permeated our thoughts and hearts, to have this time was quite special and seemingly perfectly times. We realised that Kate and I were the ages that Liz and Mama Wolff were when we were in the realms of deep childhood friendship. Kate and I had met in kindergarden. We all remember the time in May, when I said to Mama Wolff that I wanted to invite Kate to my birthday party. I remember mum approaching Liz and offering the invite. This was it. Even though Kate went to a different school a few years later, we remained besties with a penchant for sleepovers. I remember popcorn; late night apples; den making; Dan (Kate’s little brother) in character as Indiana Jones; Dan in time-out; Anne of Green Gables; reading and sharing books; dolls; Kate’s blue and striped Alice in Wonderland dress; pancakes; Liz and her loveliness; adventures at the cabin in Point Robert’s; Harvey playing the guitar; the mom’s with g&t’s and bottles of wine; parties and us all together in a bundle of laughter and fun. One may think I have rose tinted nostalgic glasses on here, but reminiscing so many years on, we do all recollect the happiest of times.

 I loved to hear Harvey and Liz and our other friends talking about ‘Addy’. I guess we all called Adam this when he was little. Everyone remembered him as the loveliest of little boys, his big brown eyes and kind nature ever present. Michael, Addy’s best bud, had seen us off at the airport when we left for England and apparently turned to his mum and said, ‘What are we going to do without Addy?’ To which she responded by bursting into tears, as she too was losing her friend, Judy. Here we are catching up with the Revell’s, who like the Burritt family, were dear friends during our Canadian lives.

So, Adam, I may have likened you to a sloth in a former blog but know that I only talk you up. Liz says when she watches the videos from when we were kids she would like to reach into history and grab Addy to give him a great big kiss. His great big, gentle brown eyes. The youngest of a rowdy bunch, baby-bird like in his slow toddler movements, absorbing the hysteria around him wide-eyed; Dan has a melt down as Addy accidentally eats one of the crisps from his plate and Addy looks on with a hint of wonder and surprise until one of the moms sweeps in and placates Dan’s tantrum.

Although Dan was older, he was on the smaller side. He also was permanently in character- he was in a Ghostbuster phase here! Indian Jones was another fave. Here he is now, Dan the Man (SUPER lovely, gentlemanly, funny and an anchorman on CBC- I was amazed to see him on the telly, loving watching him from the Burritt abode):-

Addy emulates the beautiful persona that embodies him still and we all wish both him and Steph were also here for this visit. This was such a strange thing- watching videos (converted to DVD) on the last day of mum and Richard’s trip. It was strange to watch myself. I was quite shy in the birthday shenanigans. Hiding behind Kate and her confident performance and chatter in front of the camera, watching on as Steph took centre stage with a recorder show and a dialogue with Liz about her teacher's flaws (verging on a potential character assassination). Harvey kept focusing the camera on my face and my retreating shyness. My freckled face looked no different to now and it made me very emotional to see myself and my I know this is a powerful therapy: looking at yourself as a child and speaking to that child knowing what you know now, stripping back life's traumas and emotional roller coasters that every person inevitably endures (all relative of course). I myself, do not feel hurt by the past but watching myself, appearing to seek solitude below in the depths while the others darted around on the surface like a school of fish, moved me and I wanted to tell that little girl that everything would be okay.

What was more amusing as opposed to emotional, was seeing Liz and Mama W. The 80s looks they had going on- shoulder pads, high waisted trousers with pleats and quite interesting perms all boxy, heavy on the make-up. Mama Wolff is clearly in the kitchen drinking her wine for the most part (a slight diservice here as I am sure she is preparing party food too) but arrives on screen as we are gathered at the party table and as Liz walks in carrying a Ghostbusters cake with an unmistakeable Slimer on top, we could all not stop laughing. Snapshots are great but seeing us in motion was a whole new level of our trip down memory lane.

Spending time with the Revell's had also involved a lot of reminiscing, as did our awesome catch up with the McKays- a visit to a winery; roadside blueberry sampling; an outing to Canada Place; hanging out at their place and looking at old photos...

Genevieve was another bestie from childhood and we, much similar to the Burritt/Wolff gang, had a Bucher/Wolff gang too. A LOT of time was spent riding our bikes, eating candy and hanging out at each others houses. We lived close and were in the same class at school. She called us her 'special guests' and we received the star treatment:

We had a gorgeous dinner and met her husband and two children. Genevieve was just the same and we slipped right back into the comfortable childhood nook. 

Mama Wolff was also big time friends with Gen's parents and Angela, her sister, is vibrant in my memories as are Bob and Kerry Bucher. 

I organised a girly lunch so Mama could catch up with all her besties from back in the day- Liz Burritt, Cathy McKay, Mama Wolff and Ann Revell. Back in the hey day all of us would get together and have some pretty fun parties, remembered by us all:

So, as you see this was all quite a lot of activity! Fortunately we had a little summer holiday sandwiched in between all the wonderful shananigans- we went Lakeside. That little adventure is up next, Blog 34. You can see how a blip with the Burritts is just not enough, how an education of yin yoga (off grid but connected to my native land) could not have been more perfect and how the Wolff/Heseltine arrival created quite a whirlwind. I loved seeing Mama Wolff and Richard having such a good time with their buddies. Happiest of days! More of those to come...