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| Nelson, B.C. on a busier day. |
I keep going for scenic, rustic, peaceful. I have learned
nothing.
Day 1 of my travels and I felt so calm—at least after
navigating through a ninety-minute snowy patch with my dog sitting and shaking
riding shotgun, while enduring a panic attack. The mountain fog was a breeze
after that. I also felt disconnected, but that’s status quo.
Nelson is a lovely little town in the Kootenays of British
Columbia. It’s also mighty sleepy on a rainy Sunday in mid-March. After
checking in to my hotel, the dog and I went for a walkie. He was thrilled to
mark new territory. But then, he was just as excited piddling on a littered
yogurt cup in a dirt parking lot during a quick road stop in seemingly
abandoned Princeton, B.C. (While he did his thing, I kept my eye out for
zombies. Freaky interaction averted. Maybe zombies just want a dairy fix.)
The streets of central Nelson are lined with beautiful old
buildings. But at 4:40 on a Sunday afternoon, the sidewalks were empty. Well,
there was an off-key busker, looking for a nuisance fee. (I’d rather encounter yogurt-deficient
zombies.) To wholly avoid him, I jaywalked to the other side of the street. No
risk of being struck by traffic. Unfortunately, stores closed at 4. Or even 3.
Restaurants didn’t even bother opening, sticking to that Closed on Sundays norm
from sixty years ago. I started to wonder if Nelson was the original homestead
of Ozzie and Harriet.
Dinner ended up being a burrito from the co-op grocery store—open
until 6 in the evening! The dog and I retreated to our hotel room for more
quiet time. I almost welcomed the nonstop coughing wall. Interaction! I named
it Wally. If Tom Hanks can name a volleyball, I can bond with a too-thin wall.
Sadly, as I pulled my pillow ear plugs away in the morning,
Wally said nothing. A wall of silence. Time to say goodbye to Nelson.
Surely things will be bustling in Spokane.
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