Time to get Canucked

All shopped out, we decided to head back to Canada. After a night by the lake, we drove up to Lucan's home where I relished a hot, powerful shower, finally met Bob (poppa Seabrook) and was sheepishly shown around my beau's bedroom - the physical manifestation of a boy temporarily freed from the shackles of an orderly girlfriend.

We then headed into Victoria, via several of Lucan’s childhood haunts, including his (many) schools, homes and rebellious teenage hangouts. It was great to finally see all his favourite spots, it was like watching the 3D screening of an audio narrative I knew by heart. The quaint capital was endearing with it’s beautiful Empress Hotel, impressive Parliament building and quirky cafes. As one would hope from a coastal town, it offered spectacular fish and fortunately for me, my enthusiastic tour guide was only too happy to indulge us. We had salmon is every form possible: cold smoked, hot smoked, candied and raw - what an absolute delight!

With lunch devoured and the van weather-proofed, the onus was now on me to Canuck myself - apparently Nike Dunks are no match for the Rockies mid-October. And so there it began, my search for the Holy Grail: a pair of aesthetically pleasing boots that are also robust, warm and glacier-proof. I’m not quite sure why this paradox exists, perhaps there is an esoteric hiking underworld that has become so powerful, even the fashionista powerhouses daren’t approach them. It’s a shame really, because I believe there’s a direct correlation between footwear and dating potential, with just a little help from our friends in fashion, everyone would be engaged in a game of footsie.

That being said, my footsie future is looking bleak, with glaciers ahead of me and no warm shoes beneath me, I’ve got to be careful that my feet don’t end up surrendering my toes to frost bite.