Victoria

Oh. Oh. Oh. I'm at the Fuller Lake Motel, in Chemainus, BC, 45 miles north of Victoria. I'm recovering from car sickness.

The day started with me checking airbnb so I could stay in Victoria where Jeff Freed was tying the knot with Yixi Zhang. Both had invited me up for the wedding in July. I thought she was sincere until she said she couldn't spare 15 square feet on her patio for a hiker (me).   I signed up for an airbnb room in Victoria, but the host responded to my request with neither a confirmation nor denial--she gave the room to another after raising the rate by $20 per day. I foolishly drove 3.5 hours to Port Angeles and got on the ferry thinking I'd get a confirmation. Mild motion sickness, yes--confirmation, no. And I'd stayed too long to get back on the ferry going back to Port Angeles. I'd gone as a friend of Jeff's. I sure hope she's the right one for Jeff.

After a few phone calls to Jeff appealing for help, I had a motel room. All of Vancouver Island was booked with only a few mom and pop motels having vacancies. A taxi driver with a foot tapping disease took me to Chemainus--the foot's varying pressure on the gas pedal blossomed into little jerking motions of the cab--I nearly vomited. $195 Canadian for the cab. Then the motel said I had to pay for two nights or leave. $200 Canadian. I've overstimulated the economy here. A favorable exchange rate made it just a bit less sour.  I considered staying for both days that I was forced to pay for, just to make sure they didn't rent out my room to someone else.

To get back to Victoria, I'd have to either take a cab back or hitchhike--no bus service.

I couldn't wait to get back to the PCT, with  which I could cope.