Locals call it The Rock. And like Alcatraz, Vancouver Island is surrounded by water. That’s why they call it an island. And just like Alcatraz, Vancouver Island is an amazingly gentle and beautiful place the locals call paradise. OK, Vancouver Island is nothing like Alcatraz. But locals do call it The Rock.

Once upon a time there were three brothers. Albert, Harry and Carl. Harry stayed in Sweden. Carl laid bricks in Chicago and Albert was a lumberjack who worked his way to Vancouver Island. And then decades later two of Albert and Carl’s grandchildren along with their special friends Carmen and Noel hiked a pretty route in Sooke. They saw some whales way off in the distance and then had pints at a local pub. Later they played Cribbage and Noel was disappointed with how that went. And they had a Canadian Mediterranean dinner (fries smothered in tabouli salad- it was good). One of the grandchildren, I won’t say which, came to the party with a massive freshly caught Salmon filet caught on a fishing trip paid for by a lucky Canadian lottery ticket. The other grandchild presented a used paper back book. So it was an even trade.

Yeah it was a pretty awesome day. And the next was good too. Butchart Garden in the morning then Beacon Hill Park in the afternoon. That plus a mug up at a local coffee shop and some wandering around downtown Victoria makes for a pretty fun day. Life on The Rock is good.