Velo Vineyard

Our Tour de France day began with bicycling ourselves. We rented bikes to ride through the vineyards; something lifted straight from a postcard.

Me and my hat. I tried repeatedly to get a picture of Shauna and me cycling side
by side, but of all my attempts she likes this shot the best.

Shauna was impressed by how straight the vineyard rows are; a result of them
being surveyed we later learned.

Being somewhat newbies in the world of wine prior to this trip, we learned quite a bit from our host, Darren, our friend from Zurich. He informed us that the vineyard rows are indeed surveyed; hence the straightness. Rows are legal property that in many cases have been passed down through families over generations, having been subdivided many times by inter-family marriages, the end result being that vineyard ownership can vary by single row.

The crew bicycling in Beaune.

Us with the prototypical French car, the Citroen 2CV. These cars seem ageless,
but I think this a newer one judging by the rectangular headlights.

Vineyards adjacent to Romanee near Nuite-Saint-Georges

Darren informed us that the vineyard behind the cross is owned by Romanee, and their top wine, Romanee Conti, can sell for as much as $10,000 per bottle! I'm even having trouble figuring out by how many multiples that is removed from our modest price range.

Us at the famed Romanee Conti vineyard. At the reported price per bottle
you'd think there'd be 24-hour security or a razor wire fence!

Just by chance I happened to see this (empty) box of Romanee Conti on a top shelf in the restaurant in Beaune where we had lunch after our cycling excursion.

Pre-Nuite (Saint-Georges)

It's already the last day of the Tour de France, and I have yet to post my Tour de France experience. We've been back from our European vacation for 2 weeks. It certainly was a nice break, but immediately I've been thrust back into 50 hour work weeks; short-staffed.

The last portion of our vacation was in Beaune, in the Burgundy region of France. Our friends who live in Zurich are wine connoisseurs, and they frequent the area. There's nothin' like touring with people that know their way around. The first day there we were at a wine tasting in the vineyards of Chambertin close to town, and as casual conversation our host asked if we were going to take in the Tour de France as it passed through a neighbouring town the following day. All four of us looked at each other..."What?..." We'd had no idea. But sure enough, Stage 7 was to pass through Nuite St. Georges the next day.

These are the wines we sampled at Chambertin.

Jazzy, the ultra-friendly vineyard dog at Chambertin.

Then it started to sink in because we'd seen cycling decorations in Nuite St. George as we'd driven through to Beaune. We were so not expecting it that it never sank in.

Us at Buckingham Palace. (It looks so much bigger on TV.)

This flag means the Queen is in residence.

The Changing of the Guard looked more like the Changing of the Band. They
played a song by Rush after the change. I guess they must have gotten advance
notice that us Canadian were in the crowd.

To the untrained eye (i.e., mine) this looked like a modified Canadian flag. It's
associated with one of the bands.

Scotia Bank Half Marathon 2017

Finally got around to posting my finish at my second half marathon this past Sunday in Vancouver. After the Sun Run our weekend running group got a bee in their collective bonnet to run the Scotia Bank Half, and I couldn't come up with a legitimate excuse to say no.

It was a very cool training season, and ironically the day of the event set heat records in some areas. It was about 25 decrees Celsius when I crossed the finish line in 2:19:21. Not too bad considering the conditions I guess and the fact that I'm 5 years older than last time I did it, but it was still 2 minutes slower than my last attempt.

There are already murmurs within our group of doing our next Half in Victoria in October...at least the odds are it won't be hot...but don't I have to wait another 5 years? :-)

Bear Sighting

Yesterday was our final group training session before next weekend's Scotia Bank Half Marathon in Vancouver. In recent weeks we've been training in the vicinity of False Creek and Stanley Park. A very picturesque venue to be sure, but since this week was a shorter run (only 12 km) we decided to switch locales to another favourite, Mount Seymour Demonstration Forest park.

At the 2 km marker, a rare straight stretch, we came across a cyclist signaling us by waving his arms above his head quite some distance ahead. A few seconds later the source of his concern ambled out of the underbrush; a black bear!

Our record of no wildlife sightings (except for chipmunks) has officially come to an end.

The image is a bit pixelated but it's the best my iPhone would accommodate based on the distance we were away from the bear. I couldn't confidently gauge the bear's size but I don't think it was full grown; which was another reason we kept our distance as Momma Bear was probably close by also.

Star Sighting

The massive photo of Bono in yesterday’s Vancouver Sun entertainment section gives me pause to reflect that last Saturday at our weekly jogging group I think I experienced a Bono sighting in Burnaby’s Central Park. Of course, not knowing his recreational pursuits I don’t know if Bono is a jogger. But if he is, I saw a fellow matching his general description of medium height and build with yellow-tinted glasses and facial stubble (wearing a hat, perhaps as disguise?) approach us on a trail near the duck pond going the opposite direction. It’s not often one sees yellow-tinted lenses, and one thing I do know is that such lenses are a Bono trademark. I seem to remember that they aren’t simply a mega-star attention-getter; he does suffer from a condition that requires him to wear coloured lenses.

I may not have been alert to the possibility of a Bono sighting that morning except for the fact that a few nights ago I experienced a 90s musical flashback as I walked my dog in our neighbourhood. As I covered the blocks I could swear that I was hearing snippets of U2 music being carried by the breeze. It’s not unusual that occasionally when the wind is blowing south we can hear bits of concerts at BC Place or Rogers Arena. As I "turn the key and slowly unlock the door, A man breathes into his saxophone" I thought I recognized “Bullet the Blue Sky”. I used to play that double live CD on road trips to Seattle in my youth; cranked of course.

Perhaps he was simply looking for a place where the trails have no names. But in that case Bono still hasn’t found what he’s looking for as the trails in Central Park are indeed named. We passed each other on the Terry Fox 5 km trail.

May the Fourth Be With You Little Squirrel!

I was rearranging some stuff in the back of my car late this afternoon, wearing sandals, when I felt a tickling sensation on one foot. I instinctively whipped my foot away thinking it was maybe a spider. It’s been my experience that usually one shake will suffice for such an encounter.

But it happened again. Same tickling, same outrageous reflex.

This time I looked under the car. You’d never guess what caused the disruption; a baby squirrel!

 

Just then my neighbours were walking past with their small daughter on their way to get ice cream on the first warm summer-like evening we’ve had this cold Spring. Needless to say their daughter was thrilled, but a bit cautious as well, at seeing such an inquisitive little creature up close. The squirrel was either disoriented, hungry, or simply was too young to have developed a fear of humans. It seemed intent on nibbling human feet or shoes, so a volunteer went into the house to get some sunflower seeds.

 

After a few photos, and more neighbours arriving to “ooh and ahh” it was decided after a quick phone call to animal services that the little squirrel would be better served in care of an animal shelter close by. We surmised by the lack of any angry chattering from the trees from adult squirrels that the parents were not anywhere close by. I supplied a shoe box (with a handy air hole already provided; thanks “un-named” shoe company!) and my neighbor chauffeured the curious squirrel to the animal shelter, along with his curious daughter in tow trying her best not to lift the lid of the box lest her new furry friend escape.