A Trip Back Through Time

On my way south from Oxford, I took a little detour to the English country village of Long Wittenham to visit a totally unique museum.  At first blush, Pendon Museum doesn't appear to be a museum in any usual sense of the word.  Instead, it makes one think of a model railway fanatic's dream come true.  But there's far more to Pendon than just big boys messing about with trains!

The project began in the 1920s with Roye England, who was determined to preserve the rural landscape and lifestyle he saw disappearing by degrees around him.  His long-term objective was to create a detailed model landscape of the Vale of White Horse as he saw it in the inter-war years.  He began with a single model of a country pub with thatched roof, and progressed from there.  As he worked, he also satisfied his train-spotter's eye by taking copious notes of the times and consists of trains working through the Vale along the Great Western Railway.  These notes form the basis of the model trains working in Pendon today, both the make-up of the trains and the strict schedule on which they are operated in scale time.

Throughout all three model layouts at Pendon, the level of hand-crafted detail is eye-popping -- perfectly finished brickwork, straw thatch, Victorian bric-a-brac on buildings, a buggy whip, exquisite lettering on signs.  The scale used requires that all human figures are not much more than 1 cm tall!  As well, there's the extraordinary collection of period-appropriate passenger and freight cars of all kinds, plus locomotives, also all hand-crafted.

The pioneering railway layout, the Madder Valley Railway, was created single-handed by John Ahern during the 1930s -- by hand!  (There certainly weren't shops you could run into to purchase such tiny models and figures!).  It depicts a fictional location with uncanny scenic precision.  The Madder Valley Railway was the first railway model ever to be created within a detailed scenic environment, and as such assumes legendary status among railway modellers.  This also makes the Madder Valley the direct ancestral great-great-great-great-grandfather of Thomas the Tank Engine!

Along with Roye England, a team of volunteers continued working towards the goal of recreating the life of the Vale.  As a transitional stage, they built another railway layout based on an imaginary location at the edge of Dartmoor, in the southwest of England.  This became so popular that it was retained in its own right and forms the second display.

The entire upper floor of the museum is reserved for the huge Vale of White Horse model, which was finally begun in the 1970s, and continues as a work in progress.

 The lower portion of the display depicts the countryside and railway station at the imaginary village of Pendon Parva, which is served by the GWR main line and by a branch line.

Up the hill on the unpaved road behind the station is the village, and here the detail of the modelling is incredibly precise and intricate.

One of the fascinations is the ability to see the "bare bones" sections of this enormous model alongside the finished portions.  A cutaway model of a country cottage is displayed so you can see the detail of construction that these volunteer craftsmen put into their work.  These are certainly a far cry from mass-produced snap-together building models!

In this garden scene, look closely at the spade behind the wheelbarrow by the rear fence.  Look at the tip of the spade and you will see a robin perched there.  Remember that this entire spade-and-robin piece is perhaps 5-6 mm tall!

I spent well over an hour studying these incredible model landscapes and railways.  I can only guess at the number of years of further work that lie ahead before Roye England's vision of a complete model of life in the Vale of White Horse reaches completion.  Happily he was able to see the project well under way before he died in 1999.

Even if model railways don't interest you, Pendon Museum is well worth a visit for its incredibly detailed re-creation of rural life in a time now almost a century gone, well before the widespread introduction of motor vehicles and mechanized farm equipment.  It's a fascinating experience!

(Note: Apologies for the variable focus of the pictures.  

Shooting through plexiglass is always apt to be an iffy venture at best!)

Lovely All Times She Lies ....

My title is a quote from the poem Thyrsis by Matthew Arnold, a poem which includes this wonderful description of the university city of Oxford:

And that sweet City with her dreaming spires,

She needs not June for beauty's heightening,

Lovely all times she lies, lovely to-night!

That's where I now find myself.  I did come here once, many years ago, on a day trip from London by train, but I didn't prepare myself properly and didn't really get a very good look at the magnificent architecture.  In fact, I really don't remember much about that visit at all, except that it happened.

But some years later, I encountered the poetry of Matthew Arnold.  Through his vivid description of the city and the surrounding region I found myself falling in love with the idea of Oxford.  Even though it is no longer the place he knew in the 1800s (in many ways) there are still many sights that he would find familiar among the spectacular churches and colleges, dating from all periods from the 1200s to the 1800s.

It's a crowded little city, crowded because of narrow streets -- narrow even by British standards, which is saying a lot! -- and crowded with people because of the University and its numerous colleges, and all the tourists.  This is one place where common sense dictates that you leave the car at one of the five "Park and Ride" car parks on the outskirts and take a bus into town, where you can walk about.  And that's just what I did.  My lucky break was that the park and ride terminal was right beside my hotel, so I didn't even have to drive there!

As if that weren't enough, there was another substantial bonus:  I awoke to a cloudless, brilliantly sunny sky, made to order for walking and for photography of beautiful old buildings -- two of my favourite outdoor activities!

The park and ride bus dropped me off in St. Aldate's Street, right beside the front of Christ Church College and it's famous Tom Tower, which houses a bell named Great Tom (hence the name).  This, by the way, perpetuates nearly the same error which people fall into when describing the clock tower of the Houses of Parliament in London as "Big Ben".  That name actually refers to the largest bell in the tower, the one that strikes the hours.  Tom Tower was designed (beautifully) by Christopher Wren.  Perhaps even more striking is the high Gothic style of the college's Hall.

Just a short way north is the 4-way intersection from which Oxford as we now know it was laid out, and here you find the ancient Carfax Tower.  Depending on who you believe, the name is said to be a corrupted form of the French "quatre faces" (for four sides) or "carrefour" (for market place).

Stretching east from Carfax is the gentle curve of the High Street, lined with shops interspersed in between the noble buildings of several colleges.  Part way down the street, on the north side, is the beautiful Gothic St. Mary's Church, the official University Church.

 At the end of the street is Magdalen College, with its prominent chapel tower.  Beside it, Magdalen Bridge crosses the twin narrow channels of the River Cherwell, here nearing the point where it will merge with the Thames.

Heading back into the city, and turning north, I came next to the imposing and unusual Radcliffe Camera (in this case, Camera is the Latin word for a room or hall).  It was built in the mid-1700s to a design by James Gibbs to house a science library funded by the bequest of Dr. John Radcliffe.  This was ironic in the extreme, as Radcliffe had been a noted iconoclast and frequent mocker of the reading of books!  One contemporary remarked in a letter that Radcliffe's bequest was "about as logical as if a eunuch should found a seraglio"!

Not far beyond Radcliffe Square is a unique enclosed footbridge, connecting two buildings of Hertford College.  It looks like it's built in the height of fashion of the same mid-1700s period, but this one is actually a kind of romantic fake -- it was finished in 1910!  Colloquially it's known as the "Bridge of Sighs" after the famous enclosed footbridge in Venice, but the resemblance to that city's Rialto Bridge is even more striking.  I think what amuses me the most is that the bridge is so much more ornate than either of the two buildings it connects!

Right across from the Hertford Bridge is the genuinely-1700s Sheldonian Theatre.  Its primary role is to provide a venue for university ceremonies such as convocations.  But it is also used for lectures, recitals, and concerts.

Just north of this area, the imposing Martyrs Memorial recalls one of the darker chapters of English history.  When Henry VIII's daughter, Mary, came to the throne, she made strenuous efforts to turn the by-now-Protestant England back to Roman Catholicism.  When three bishops refused to take the oath of loyalty to the Pope, she had them imprisoned in Oxford and they were burned at the stake just outside the city walls.  Largely as a result of this triple execution, Mary became known to subsequent generations as "Bloody Mary".  The irony is that when her younger half-sister Elizabeth succeeded her in turn, and England was turned Protestant again, Elizabeth's agents executed more than ten times the number of people executed in Mary's reign for religious causes.  Yet Elizabeth has gone down in popular history as a wise and powerful ruler, while Mary has been despised as a bloodthirsty tyrant.  Or, as Sellar and Yeatman said in their classic 1066 And All That, Mary was a Bad Queen and Elizabeth was a Good Queen.

Now, all of this architectural and historical study had taken up several hours, and involved quite a few kilometres of walking on pavement, bricks, cobblestones, gravel, and grass.  I was beginning to suffer from a rather painful case of "tourist feet", also known as incipient blisters.  So I decided to hunt up some lunch, and right there on Magdalen Street was an alleyway leading to the Crown, a very long-established pub which was in fact patronized by Shakespeare when he was in Oxford.  Well, if the Bard liked it, I figured it had to be pretty good, and it was.  The outdoor patio looks appealing, but I was actually feeling a bit chilly and decided to eat indoors.  By the way, all the best old pubs in Oxford are hidden down narrow alleyways.  Having a pub sitting out in the open on the main streets of this city was plainly not permitted!

By the time I came out, it was almost an hour and a half later.  There's something about a British pub that makes me want to linger, especially when it stocks my favourite cider (Strongbow) on tap!  But eventually, out I came, and promptly felt the first raindrops splatting on my head.  The sunny morning with a clear sky was going back to the same old wild pattern of clear sunshine alternating with hearty rain showers.  With that, I headed for the nearest bus stop, and rode back up to the hotel, calling it a good morning's work!

Living in History

I'm now in a different country, on my seventh or eighth (or ninth?) return visit to one of my favourite cities on the entire planet: Amsterdam.  I came here for the first time way back in 1971, when my high school trip to Italy encountered an unexpected snag and about 20 of us out of the group of 100 were stuck with an unplanned 16-hour stopover here.  In the best tradition of European hospitality, KLM laid on a chartered bus for us, drove us into the city, took us on one of the famous canal boat rides, treated us to an early dinner, and then returned us to the airport for our onward flight to Rome.

That was it -- I was hooked on Amsterdam.  And I've been hooked on the place ever since.  There are a whole range of reasons why.  Two that might spring to mind right away are, as it happens, not true.  No, I do not come here to get high in the infamous cafes and no, I do not come here to party my brains out in the numerous gay bars.  Things like that just aren't my style.

The city centre of Amsterdam is like a living museum, with amazing old architecture from the city's "golden age" everywhere you look.  That, for me, is one big attraction.  For anyone as history-minded as myself, there is no such thing as a boring view in central Amsterdam!  It's also fascinating to see how the old buildings are re-invented to serve more modern needs while preserving their outward appearance.  A good example is shown by the Crowne Plaza Hotel, my favourite stay in the city.  It's a modern, seven-story building which wraps around and incorporates several historic houses.  In fact, the room I got this time is actually on the top level of one of those houses.

It's a full suite.  And before you go jumping to conclusions about my spending habits, I hasten to point out that I was upgraded here by the hotel on the basis of my Platinum membership in the chain's frequent stay plan.  That upgrade includes use of the club lounge with free snacks and drinks all day, and free breakfast either in the lounge or in the restaurant.  Also, a 25% discount on all food and drink ordered in the restaurant is included.  I don't know many hotels anywhere that give so many bonuses in return for membership at the upper level of their chain's program!

It's in a prime location, too.  This hotel is a 2-minute walk from the Central Station, where you arrive by express train from the airport.  The station is also the hub of all the public transport, including the famous trams and the metro.  Buy a day pass or a week pass and you're all set.  Most of the canal boat tours leave from the canal right in front of the station too, and there really is no better way to see the city and get oriented to the layout than a boat tour.  The boats travel around the central canal system and part of the harbour, giving you a good overview of the key role of water in the city's life, and of the best and most imposing historic buildings and monuments.

One short block away from the Crowne Plaza is one end of the Nieuwendijk, which is a pedestrians-only shopping street, winding through the heart of the city.  And next to a boat tour, walking is the second-best way to get around in Amsterdam.  Don't even think about trying to drive here -- you will cut yourself out of 3/4 of the best places to see!

Next to the history, the other prime attraction of Amsterdam is the people-watching.  And a great way to do that is on the open plaza called the Leidseplein.  There are a number of cafes and bars fronting on the Leidseplein, each with its own outdoor seating.  Several different tram lines cross here so there are always people coming and going.  It's popular with outdoor entertainers too.  These can be jugglers, acrobats, dancers, musicians, you name it.  My favourite activity here is actually an inactivity -- just buy a beer, sit at a cafe table, and watch the world go by for a while.  The infinite variety of people in Amsterdam constantly surprises me, and it's always entertaining too!

That is, if and when the weather cooperates.  Often it doesn't, and today was a perfect example.  We had a few dry hours this morning, although the sky remained cloudy (a typical condition here) and I did manage to squeeze in the boat tour which I always do.  Of course, the tour boat always takes you past the same sights: the varied designs of the gables on the old houses:

The extra-large mansions of the wealthiest merchants on the "Golden bend" of the Herengracht (the "Gentlemen's Canal"):

The famous "Seven Bridges" along the Reguliersgracht (sorry, no can translate!):

(some day I met get an adequate photograph of that particular sight!)

And then there are the inevitable "results" of building a city on reclaimed silt land, colloquially known as the "kissing houses":

After the canal tour arrives back at the Central Station, there's a chance to admire the view of the boat basin (only partly shown here) and the domed St. Nicholas Church.  And right beside the church on the right is the entrance to the street Zeedijk which leads to the infamous red light district!

Right after the cruise, the rain moved in.  Every time it seemed to stop, I grabbed my coat and headed out, only to get rained on again.  Well, all I can say from frequently repeated experience is that you just have to expect this if you come to Amsterdam.  But since I have often visited all the museums I want to see, and I am not much of a shopper, that leaves precious little to do on a rainy day in Amsterdam.  It doesn't matter.  As always, I'm glad to be back in a city where individual people count far more than anybody's ideas of what people ought to be like.

Day on the Road

I don't usually plan my activities to the last second before setting off on a trip.  I find that it's too easy to get messed up by the weather, or a change of mood, or a late sleep-in.

Of course there are exceptions: that hit show that you have to get tickets for, or something like the "London Eye" which in peak season can be booked solid a week ahead or more.  But generally, I like to go on impulse.  Today was a perfect example.

Yesterday, we had the cold front and the rain.  The forecast then said that we could expect 3-4 solid days of mixed sun and showers.  So I wasn't sure what form today might take.  But when I woke up this morning to a cloudless blue sky, I made a sudden impulsive decision to take the car and go for a drive along the coastal highway east of Brighton -- to Dover.

On a map, it doesn't look far.  But this is the United Kingdom, and when you leave the "motorways" (freeways) you slow right down.  Roads are narrow, twist and turn a great deal and work their way through towns and villages with many a zigzag.  As if that weren't enough, there's all that pesky scenery that keeps tempting you to stop and admire the view, go for a walk on a trail, take pictures, etc.  Net result: it took me over 5 hours to get there!  (Return trip was faster, 1 hour 30 minutes by motorway!).

Next piece of advice: when making this kind of scenic drive, make sure you are well-stocked with British coins.  These coastal communities have all discovered the joys of the pay-and-display car park, and the machines mostly accept only coins.  That skewered my chances of one particularly scenic stop, because I knew I would be away from the car for a good half hour and I could see the watchman roaming the lot, checking for tickets displayed on dashboards.  Damn.

The end of the drive, Dover, is famous for its white cliffs, but in fact you only have to go a few miles east of Brighton to begin sighting white cliffs because the whole region is underlain by massive deposits of chalk and similar materials.

I stopped at Eastbourne, to go for a walk along the seafront.  Eastbourne looks exactly like a more genteel version of Brighton, with many more elderly people sauntering or sitting in the sun.  It always comes as a shock to first-time visitors to find such near-tropical vegetation as palmettos growing in England.  But the climate is kept temperate every year by the strong influence of the warm Gulf Stream, and such plants are even grown in sheltered locations well up north in Scotland!

Just to the west of Eastbourne is Beachy Head, a prominent projecting point of chalk cliffs.  Although I did drive up there, that's where I had to forego the scenic hike due to the car-park problem.

Driving on eastwards, I came to the small village of Pevensey, which looks exactly like what a small English village ought to look like!  Here I stopped to pay a visit to an ancient Norman ruin, Pevensey Castle.  Like many of its kind, only the outer walls remain and you have to use a good deal of imagination to try to see what the complete structure was like in its day.

Up to this point there's been a lot of climbing up and down by the road, but now you pass through large flat areas of marshland adapted for farming.  Along the way you pass through several towns that were once important commercial harbours but are now cut off from the sea (or nearly so) by the silting actions of the marshland rivers.  These include Rye and Winchelsea.  But then as you carry on the hills are suddenly there again and you have to climb up and down some hefty ones to arrive first at Folkestone, the site of the Channel Tunnel terminal, and then Dover.

And here you come to Dover Castle, another Norman structure which dates in large part to the time of King Henry II.  Indeed there are two even older buildings within the walls: a Saxon church and the shell of a Roman pharos or lighthouse, one of two that guarded Dover.  The very un-Roman pointed arches are explained by the fact that the tower was later adapted into a bell tower for the church,  With that information, it's easy to see that the pointed arches were inserted into the older stonework.

At first glance you might think the castle is in extraordinarily good repair -- until you read a signboard which tells you that it housed an active military garrison as recently as the 1950s!  Then the good condition of the castle makes sense, as does the large number of buildings plainly dating from the 19th century within the walls.

For Dover Castle is huge.  It consisted of three concentric rings of complete walls, with buildings in each of the outer and middle courts or "wards", and the massive King Henry Tower in the innermost court.  I spent a good hour walking all over the place and feel that I only scratched the surface of all there is to see and do here.  This picture shows only the inner courtyard walls and the square Tower looming within them.

The value of the Castle even to modern warfare becomes obvious when you go to the lookout point at the southern end and scan the view -- especially on such a crystal-clear day as today.  Of course the Castle Hill commands the entire harbour and beach at Dover, and all its approaches.  This is a splendid place to watch the ferries coming and going to and from France and Belgium -- and in spite of the Channel Tunnel there is still plenty of business for the ferries to pick up!

If you look closely at the right edge of the second picture, you can actually see the French coast in the distance, between Calais and Boulogne, at Cap Gris Nez.  Modern land-based artillery mounted on such high ground are perfectly capable of sweeping the entire width of the English Channel at this, its narrowest point, with murderous heavy gunfire.  It's no wonder that the English Channel has traditionally been referred to as Britain's "Moat" -- the image makes perfect sense!

A little farther to the left (east of the Castle) you get one splendid view of the famous White Cliffs of Dover.

Unfortunately, my experience was the same as that of the several family members who were here a couple of months ago.  I saw no bluebirds.

The Quintessential Seaside Resort

Well, after a couple of days of sitting around, hiking through airports, heaving baggage hither and yon, and working up a sweat in unseasonably warm weather, I have arrived at the first main stop of my trip in England.  Originally a tiny fishing village known as Brighthelmstone, it was discovered by the fashionable world (and especially by the Prince Regent) during the period known as the Regency (between 1811 and 1820).  Of course, today the name is shortened down to the considerably easier form of "Brighton".

Only in England would you find such quintessential sights as a seafront vendor selling whelks, a pleasure pier complete with an amusement park at the end, a giant Ferris wheel rubbing shoulders with a rally for Volkswagen vans, and a royal palace covered with Indian domes.

Start with the palace: the Royal Pavilion.  This was the Prince Regent's fantasy of a getaway from the rigours of his duties in London.  It was begun in 1787, on a small scale, and then rebuilt on a much larger scale in the 1820s.  The architecture is a fantastic take on the architecture popular in India during that time.  The interiors are a mixture of Indian and Chinese styles.  The Pavilion is notable for the lightness and airy feelings of its interiors, compared to many European royal palaces where the decor is ponderous and overwhelming.

The Pavilion is surrounded by gardens which have been extensively recreated according to the style and taste of Regency times, and with the same species of plants and shrubs that were used for the original owner.

Leaving the Pavilion, you walk south through a district known as The Lanes.  It's an area of narrow twisting alleyways, now lined with unusual boutiques and restaurants.  It's easy to see from the look of the buildings that this area was built up before the invention of urban planning!

It only takes about two minutes before you arrive at the sea front.  Brighton has long been renowned as a beach resort, but it may come as a shock to some visitors when they realize that the only sand is on the beach volleyball court!  The beach itself is a gigantic heap of rounded stones, making a distinctive crunching sound whenever you walk on them.  Sticking out into the turbulent waters of the English Channel is the Brighton Pier, most famous of all the pleasure piers of Britain's seaside resort towns.  Yes, that really is an amusement park with a roller coaster at the seaward end of the pier!

A short distance to the west you see standing in the water the skeletal remains of the West Pier which was destroyed by fire some years ago, after having stood empty for decades.  Old photographs show that the West Pier in its heyday exhibited the very height of Victorian decorative excess.  A cleaner, less elaborate style can be seen on the facade of the nearby Grand Hotel, one of many heritage buildings standing along the waterfront here.

The entire length of the waterfront is lined with multiple levels of pedestrian walking areas according to the height of the shoreline at any given point.  There's also a bicycle path and roadways for cars.  Right near the Pier is the Ferris wheel, which gives a good view of the city and ocean.

In this photo you can see the parking area a little way beyond already well-filled with Volkswagen vans, with more arriving.  I don't know what the event was, but assume it was some kind of rally for owners of these now-classic vehicles!

I covered a fair bit of ground this morning before the sky clouded right over and the rain moved in.  Over the next couple of days, I'll be using Brighton as a base for some side trips around the south coast region of England.

Crossing the Big Pond

Time for a new post here.  I'm off on a new trip, and the only hint I'm giving you is that I'm heading east across the Atlantic!  More details later.

I want to start with a helpful hint for those who belong to Aeroplan.  Earn points any way you can, but save them until you have enough for a long flight.  Then go Business Class.  Here's why.

Few people I know ever fly on a full fare economy class ticket.  But if you look at the prices on a website, you'll soon see that a full fare economy (Y) class ticket costs only about 20% less than a full fare Business Class ticket.  Well, guess what -- the points table works the same way.  So my take on it is that you definitely would rather fly Business Class on a long-haul flight when you're going to be in the air for 6 hours or more.  That's when the extra elbow room, leg room, privacy and service really come in handy.  If you only need 20% more points for a Business Class reward ticket, there's no reason not to keep saving that bit longer!

The gimmick in this is that you have to be able to lock yourself in way ahead of time because lots of other people have figured this out too.  I usually reserve a long-haul Business Class reward ticket almost a year ahead of time, as soon as seats are available.  Business Class free seats go fast on popular overseas routes.  And I planned this trip on short notice, which is why I am flying Y-class on a paid ticket this time.

Enter the other trick.  For a fee which varies depending on length of flight, you can reserve a premium economy seat with extra legroom.  On the aircraft I'm flying on, I actually booked a seat in an exit row.  Because the exits on a Boeing 777 are full-sized doors, the row of seats ahead has been left out altogether.  Talk about extra legroom -- even in Business Class there wouldn't be that much space in front of me!

One of the curses of long-distance travel going east or west is jetlag.  I find the effects of jetlag are greatly multiplied if I can't sleep on the plane (and usually I can't, for whatever reason).  So here's the next secret: take a daylight flight.  Due to the time difference of 5-8 hours (depending on destination) it makes much more sense to have the aircraft airborne through the night on the eastbound leg, and returning west in daylight.  But every morning, a few flights leave eastern North America in the morning, arriving in a European destination in the mid to late evening.  And that's how I do it.  I get the time switch over with, get into my hotel, get a late snack and a drink or two in the bar and go to bed about 2:00 am European time.  Wake up about 6 hours later, and I'm fully in sync and ready to go.  A nap later that day and I'm completely set.  When I do the more common red-eye, the jetlag can easily last three or four days!

The bad news is that I always find the jetlag harder to work through on the westbound leg of a trip.  But it's definitely too soon to be worrying about that problem!

A Curious Pair of Ears

Third and last post about my short trip to Vancouver concerns a trip to a nearby provincial park which goes by the rather odd name of "Golden Ears".

The name derives from the twin peaks of a mountain in the park, which from the south are said to resemble a pair of ears sticking up.  The name has also been borrowed by the toll bridge across the Fraser River to the south.

I went to Golden Ears once before, but on a cold, cloudy fall day when there wasn't much to see.  This time it was a sunny, hazy, hot summer day, and the park was busy even though it was midweek.

You need a lot of patience and persistence to get to Golden Ears Park.  It's reached by way of some narrow country roads on the outskirts of Maple Ridge, and signage isn't great.  Fortunately, a new road called "Golden Ears Way" leads you from the bridge right around most of Maple Ridge and then you only need to make two more turns to get to the destination.

The road into the park makes a steady climb up into the mountains before descending into the Alouette Valley.  It's a well-laid-out parkway without any sharp curves or sudden steep grades -- and without shoulders.  Caution required, as it's popular with cyclists!

The main facilities of the park are concentrated along the west shore of Alouette Lake, which is a large power reservoir.  There's a sizable day-use area with large parking lots, picnic tables, a boat launch, a broad gravelly beach, and a marked swimming area.

Farther north along the shore there are campgrounds with their own waterfront access.  This  valley represents a very small percentage of the total size of the park.  Most of the area of the park has been left as wilderness.  The forests are threaded by hiking trails, including mountain trails for those with the urge to climb!

After paying the sizable day-use fees at national parks, and at provincial parks in my home turf of Ontario, it comes as a positive surprise that there is no charge for use of the day area here!

And as if that isn't enough, there's the spectacular scenery of this alpine valley to add to the impact of this special beauty spot!  Even after the hot summer that British Columbia has had this year, there's still snow on some of the peaks beyond the north end of the lake.

Starting from downtown Vancouver, the drive to Golden Ears will take about 1.5-2 hours depending on the time of day and the traffic, but it's definitely worth the effort!