A friend of mine in the prairies called me last week out of the blue. They were going to be on the east side of Vancouver Island for a few days, and they thought perhaps they would come over to Powell River to visit me.
It had been two years since I’d seen them, and since I am gal-pal-deprived I had visions of a cheerful re-union, a long lunch at the Tree Frog Bistro overlooking the Strait, a leisurely walk through the forest of Willingdon Beach, perhaps popping into the shops on Marine.
I arranged my schedule (inconveniencing others – apologies to Nancy) to accommodate my friend’s visitation.
Four days later I got the “Dear John” call. It’s too far, they say. It will take the entire day, they say. Naturally I was disappointed. I was not that flattered to be snubbed for time and distance. This was a few days ago and I have recovered from my emotional collapse — well, almost.
But, it occurs to me — if you are this close, why wouldn’t you come see Powell River?
It’s true that we are almost at the end of the road, and perhaps it is a road less travelled.
Yes, the Ferry doesn’t run as often as we would like, and yes, it is an hour and a half voyage across the Malaspina Strait. Here’s the thing though. It’s beautiful.
And when you get here? It’s beautiful. We have ocean views at every turn, forested paths, pristine lakes, wildlife galore. We have fishing, camping, mountain biking, hiking, golfing and scenic roads for your zen motorcycling.
More of an urban craving? We can do that too. We have amazing restaurants, artist studios, a truly unique movie theatre and streets lined with historical homes and gardens. And don’t even get me started on the music. This town has so much talent we should really be called Little Music City.
We have our own craft brewery for you to tour. We have mini golf with an outstanding ocean view. Or if you just want to catch up with an old friend, we have that too.