1. Island Thyme Bed & Breakfast

Chapter One: Some buses, a ferry and two trolls

I arrived at Island Thyme Bed and Breakfast on Labour Day Monday, five hours after leaving my Kitsilano apartment, taking two buses, one ferry and one shuttle – double the time it should have taken.

I missed the 11:10 am ferry at Horseshoe Bay by 10 minutes, and after standing beside the ticket booth listening to a grumpy traveller complain about the shitty transportation system, I shrugged and wheeled my bags away to Troll’s restaurant. There, I enjoyed a healthy snack of coffee and French fries while waiting for the next ferry.

Soon the ferry had left Horseshoe Bay behind and I was at the Snug Cove grocer hurriedly maneuvering my cart from aisle to aisle trying not to run over the laid-back locals and confused tourists who’d block my path.

The B&B was a half-hour shuttle ride from Bowen Island’s Snug Cove and Wynn, the hostess, had recommended I pick up my groceries on the way in.

I turned my nose up at the meat selection; chicken that felt barely refrigerated and previously frozen salmon that had an odd colouring to it. For dinner, I’d have to make do with the leftover lamb I’d brought. At least I had something to dress up the vegetables with.

I made it down the hill with plenty of time to wait for the shuttle, parked my bags in the shade behind the bench and laid down to wait. The bench was all mine, the sun was warm on my face and I felt content. My eyes were closed when I heard someone ask, “Are you waiting for the bus?”

I wondered coyly if I looked like a homeless person perched on that bench, but sat up and nodded with a smile. She confirmed that the bus would be along in 15 minutes and then handed me a map.

After she left, I suddenly found myself feeling vulnerable. There were people around, but I felt alone. I was alone; parked on a bench with near more bags than I could carry, and I was all sweaty from carrying them. It was embarrassing to be carrying THAT many bags.

“This is Bowen”

I was glad when the bus finally came, though the driver wasn’t very responsive to my friendly greeting. She went to get a cup of tea and I lugged my belongings up the steps to find myself waiting, yet again. My transit ticket had expired but the driver let me use it. “This is Bowen,” she’d replied casually.

The bus rumbled along rough roads, meandering around tight curves and navigating up and down steep hills. I peered through the window hoping to see a deer and trying to keep myself from falling off the seat. My cream might be churned into butter by the time we arrived.

I was the only passenger for the entire 30-minute ride and the driver was busy concentrating on the road so there was little conversation between us, though I tried.

Wynn met me at the front gate of Island Thyme on her way out to run errands. We exchanged pleasantries and she gestured me towards the house with an invitation to make myself at home. I couldn’t wait to ditch the bags.

“This was it,” I thought as I climbed down the stairs by the side of the house. I was anxious to see where I’d be spending the next five days and hoped it would live up to my expectations from what I’d seen on the website.

I wasn’t disappointed. The suite was lovely; rustic and cozy, well furnished and decorated in natural earth tones. Windows surrounded the main room on all but one wall, the view offering tall cedar trees for as far as I could see. Two beautiful throw rugs were placed over the hardwood floor.

The king-sized bed was covered with a plush white comforter, half-dozen beautifully hand-crafted pillows, and there were curtains that could be drawn round one side, like a canopy bed.

At the foot of the bed three votive candles were suspended in glass holders; I was going to light those candles, you could bet on that.

The dining area was a small solarium, separated from the main room by two glass doors. It was furnished with a small wicker table, two chairs and a beautiful dark wooden floor screen. Through the side door I could see a private stone patio where two chairs sat side by side… waiting.

In the northwest corner of the main room was an L-shaped ottoman, perfectly placed for viewing a peak across the Pacific Ocean and the spectacular mountainous backdrop. Next to the ottoman was a small pellet stove that offered a feeling of comfort, even though it wasn’t lit.

The kitchen was small but had all the amenities: convection oven, fridge, microwave, coffee maker, toaster and cookware, and the pantry was stocked with staples such as rice, cereals, tea and coffee, spices and cooking oils. Wynn had left a plate of fresh fruit on a small counter in the corner: pears, kiwi, apples, oranges and grapefruit.

Most women wouldn’t want to spend time in the kitchen while on holidays, but I was looking forward to putting a little tender loving care into my meals. I loved to cook and because I’d been so busy working over the last year, most of my meals had been thrown together.

I left my bags sitting at the front door, unpacked, and returned to the deck where I planted myself in the hammock chair. I sighed, taking in the view. Paradise!

After unpacking, I washed some strawberries and put them in a small bowl, collected my cell phone, sketch pad and camera, and returned to the hammock chair. I had some journalling to catch up on and pictures to take.

Imagine my surprise when I went to take the camera back inside and found the door locked. The keys were sitting on the counter by the ottoman, glistening in the sunlight.

I walked around the side of the house and up the wooden stairs in my slippers to peer through Wynn’s front window. There was no response to my knock except for the cat’s curious stare from the couch.

To be continued…

This is the first installment of my five-day vacation on Bowen Island. Stay tuned for more chapters over the next few weeks. A lot can happen in the “Space of Thyme”.

Tagged as: BC Bed and Breakfast, Bowen Island, Horseshoe Bay, Snug Cove