No one knew we were coming.

Another from the first ten years.
It probably was Summer 1952. Now there was one or maybe two summers our ‘Old Maid’ redhead Aunt Elsie drove we kids and our mom up to Portland, Oregon to my mom’s and Aunt’s Brothers’s house. Maybe he was also we kids uncle. Are you following me?
But anyway, and to first explain our Aunt Elsie was a bit cantankerous and easy to ignite her short fuse. If you know what I mean. Fussy times ten. Volatile.
So, we drove up old US99 and cut across west once up in Oregon and made our way to Portland. A city that sunshine forgot. If you are a rain fan, this is your place.
Once we got there and rested up a bit our Uncle proposed an idea of driving up to a place on Washington state coast called Port Angeles and catch a ferry boat going over to Victoria, BC on Vancouver Island. And BC meaning British Columbia a province of Canada.
Once we boarded the ferry we were let go to explore the boats many decks. My favorite deck was where they had a candy and drink concession stand. Then my siblings along with our cousins went below to visit the cars that were being ferried to Victoria. Some cars still had their passengers inside. Not sure why they didn’t get out of their cars and go explore the boat as well. But one of the most fascinating things to watch was one of the deck hands dumping garbage off the back of the ferry and observe the flock of seagulls diving down and picking up bits of discarded food as we churned along at 40-knots. So fun to watch and listen to them squawk and come up with half eaten French fries and bits of hotdogs.
Then after exploring every inch of the boat and about two hours later that we had pushed off from Port Angeles, we finally arrived in Victoria harbor. The ivy-covered Empress Hotel was most prominent and I must say an impressive sight as seen from the bow of the boat.
Shortly after all of us deboarded and all cars drove off we had to find a place to spend the night. And to explain, there were no toll-free 800 numbers back then to call ahead for information and reservations. Never mind it cost a small fortune to make a long-distance call to Canada back then. So as night was falling we kids, my mom and our irascible aunt stood out on main street while our uncle scouted around to find a place to spend the night. I’m almost sure the locals thought we must be a bunch of clueless tourist looking for housing and a way to get off the street. We were standing in front of a store display window under an awning and a man came walking by and made some kind of suggestive comment directed at my easy to anger aunt. But my aunt being a raw nerve person that takes nothing from anybody blasted back with a few choice words. So, the guy went on thinking we kids might alone run him off. It was about 9:00 in the evening and our uncle came back and said he found a place for all of us to stay. Then we started off walking this up-hill road and about fifteen minutes later we came to the large house he rented for the night. In retrospect the place was a boarding house ran by a nice old British couple with all kinds of British photos and memorabilia on the walls. We had one large room and had to share a bathroom with other boarders in the house and the bathroom was located down the hall. But it worked.
The next morning, we had a light breakfast and went on a walking tour around the provincial capital, the museum of natural history, and then caught a horse drawn carriage and toured all through Victoria. There was a rather large castle with very high walls around it among many other things to see.
Then we stopped for lunch and our uncle said order the fish and chips. It’s what British Columbians always eat. So, we did.
And shortly after that time we walked back to the boat dock and boarded the ferry and sailed back to Port Angeles and rode our uncle’s car back to Portland. All of this was done by the seat of our pants Nothing really planned. but it was most fun. Once we got back to Portland, it was still raining. Raindrops keep falling on my head…