Dad and Jessie and Karen and I packed our gear into the car and drove north, past the Tulalip casino, past Mt Vernon tulips, through Bellingham, and crossed the border into Canada.
Using a helpful GPS unit nicknamed "Hilda" we navigated to downtown Vancouver and up to Stanley Park. After delicious giant burgers it was time for a healthy walk, but suddenly I was feeling like I might be coming down with something: I felt a chill shoot through me. No worse time for this: they would be rejecting passengers with fevers from flying to Japan! So I napped in the car while the others had a walk.
Hilda complained as we chose a less trafficky way across town to Wanda's house @@lle 49.22631,-123.08543,85m@@, where Karen and I would stay the night. There she was with red hair and her big smile, Wanda herself, getting on her bicycle to go work as a model. We quickly left our baggage and she gave us a key and was off.
Now we cut through traffic again to Granville Island, where Dad and Jessie dropped us and bid us adieu, heading back to the USA. We had a few hours to kill while Wanda was working, so we strolled around as raindrops hesitantly began to fall. After strolling quiet neighborhoods with gardens reminding me of Christof's part of Portland we caught a couple fast buses back to Wanda's and I rested on a couch and was feeling better now. Maybe I was just allergic to Hilda?
Wanda came home and we opened wine and had a good long catching-up session: I have not seen her since she lived in LA.
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