Jordan and I are finally doing it, the Shirley Valentine. This family favourite (the kids and I have most of the lines memorized) has been my guiding light for years. In one scene, after Shirley tells her travelling companion that she doesn’t want to leave Greece, her friend says –this is from memory- “Shirley, every year millions of people go on vacation and every year those same people have such a good time that they don’t want to go home.”

Well, that’s how Jordan and I felt after our first vacation on Gabriola. It’s taken us twelve years to run away, not quite as spontaneous as Shirley, but we are coming to Gabriola for our summer vacation this year and staying.

As I made the long drive back to Calgary a few weeks ago, it came to me that this would be my last drive “home” to Calgary and the last time leaving Gabriola after a vacation. In the future, it would be the reverse. I began to think that I would actually miss the drive; the scenery from the Fraser Valley right through to the Rogers Pass is hard to top.

I won’t miss the dreadful winter driving or near-death experiences with transport trucks, nor will I miss long ferry line-ups or major construction delays on torrid days. I will miss the time for reflection that being captive alone in a car for 12 hours offers: time to plan future articles or to just ponder the reason folks from Saskatchewan insist on driving slowly in the fast lane.

I am already wishing that I had taken more time to explore all of the farmers’ produce stands along the way, and know that now I will probably never get to them. I will probably never figure out why people wait in the ferry terminal for hours, then race to the restaurant line-up as soon as they get on the boat. Ferry food is getting better, but surely with the time spent waiting to board, they could walk to a restaurant or even better, pack a healthy picnic lunch for the family. I suppose that for some, eating is part of the experience and a way to pass the time. I would rather spend my trip daydreaming and people watching. Jordan says that the real reason they tell everyone that they shouldn’t stay on the vehicle deck is to get them upstairs to spend money. I am perhaps less of a cynic, and really believe it is a safety issue.

I shouldn’t make too much fun of people who need to eat when they travel, I find that my eating habits go out the window, and I have a stock of candy and gum always close at hand. I would prefer to eat a banana, but at 130kph, it’s difficult to safely peel one.

I will also miss some of the places where our family has stayed overnight on our many trips. Recently, on my own, I have found a spot in Salmon Arm that is perfect for a woman travelling solo. I didn’t always like to go out alone to eat in strange towns, preferring to pick up a sub or, in one brain-dead moment, some Chinese food, to take to my room. I ended up rinsing out all of the containers, and running the bathroom fan all night to get rid of the food smell. I’ve decided since that time that it is better to eat out alone than it is to withstand the smell of stale food in the room.

At this hotel in Salmon Arm, there is a cheery Greek restaurant, and sitting in the window, looking out over the lake, I was reminded of another favourite line from Shirley V, “It doesn’t half upset people to see a woman dining alone.” Especially if she is apparently taking notes! Obviously, they must have thought I was a restaurant reviewer, but for whatever reason, the service has always been prompt and gracious and the food superb. I would like to make a suggestion that they offer a woman-dining-alone sampler platter, for those like me who need to try a bit of everything, but usually have a husband to share it with. This would save me the shame of sending half-eaten plates back to the kitchen because there is no way that I am going to take calamari and garlicky hummus filled doggie bags back to my room.

Ending our nomadic life will also mean that the kids and I will never actually stop at those touristy places we promised (threatened?) we would one day, places like the Enchanted Forest, the Spiral Tunnels and the many water slides. But it also means that I will now always be able to find my favourite cake pan, meat thermometer or table cloth, and I won’t have to keep buying new ones.

If this sound suspiciously like a kiss-off column; you are partially right. Between packing and anxiety attacks, I can barely string five words together. But, with the construction Gods smiling on us, I should be comfortably ensconced in my new kitchen and office by the end of the summer. See you at the market!