We are currently nestled into the welcoming comfort of Hotel Indigo Vancouver Downtown, a lovely spot that already feels like a temporary home in this charming corner of the Pacific Northwest. But rather than rushing ahead, I find myself wanting to pause and reflect on yesterday…a day that marked the end of one journey and the l beginning of another.
After twenty-five days at sea, the familiar walls of our cabin suddenly felt different when we woke. Perhaps it was the anticipation of disembarking, or perhaps it was simply the reality that my best efforts to stay healthy had slipped quietly through my fingers. The night had been restless. I tossed and turned, coughing endlessly and sneezing in a way that made sleep feel like a distant memory. So much for all that careful handwashing and sanitation procedures. Sometimes, despite our best intentions, life has its own plans.
Still, there was no lingering. Departure day waits for no one.
We gathered our belongings, took one last look around the cabin that had been our little sanctuary, and made our way down to the Promenade Cafe. There is something oddly comforting about that space, even on the final morning. Travelers sat with their coffees, some chatting quietly, others staring off as if already missing the gentle rocking of the sea. We found a place to sit and waited for our departure number to be called. Ticket number 37. It sounded so official, like a final chapter being neatly closed.
Tom made a quick stop at the security desk to retrieve our confiscated power strips. Meanwhile, I headed toward the baggage area, weaving through the steady flow of passengers, all of us moving with purpose yet carrying that subtle reluctance that comes with endings.
Finding our bags turned out to be surprisingly easy, a small victory in what could have been a chaotic process. And then, as if on cue, a porter appeared, offering assistance with a calm efficiency that immediately put me at ease. There is something reassuring about being guided in those moments when everything feels slightly uncertain. He led us through the terminal and into a private pickup area, sparing us the usual confusion and long waits.
And just like that, we were ready.
We contacted Rita and Gerhard to let them know we had arrived, and within about thirty five minutes, we were greeted with warm smiles and open arms. It is a rare and wonderful thing to have friendships that pick up exactly where they left off, no matter how much time or distance has passed.
Seeing them again brought back memories of our time in Bali, when we had shared a lunch during a port of call on that incredible forty seven night cruise spanning from December into March. Even then, in that faraway place, there had been a sense that our paths would continue to cross. And here we were again, this time on their home turf.
Their new vehicle was perfect for the task ahead, easily accommodating both us and our collection of luggage that always seems to grow with each journey. We settled in, grateful for the comfort, and began the two and a half hour drive to Vancouver, Washington.
As the city faded behind us and the landscape began to shift, I found myself relaxing in a way that only comes when you know you are in good hands. Conversation flowed effortlessly. We shared stories from the cruise, laughed about little mishaps, and listened just as eagerly to what had been happening in their lives since we last met.
There is something deeply grounding about these moments. After weeks of constant movement, of new places and fleeting encounters, being with dear friends offers a sense of stability that is both calming and restorative.
By the time we arrived, the earlier discomfort of my lingering cold seemed less significant, softened by the warmth of friendship and the promise of the days ahead. Four days here, in this beautiful city, with people we genuinely care about. It feels like a gift.
And so, as I sit here now, finally catching my breath and looking ahead, I am reminded that travel is not only about the destinations we explore, but also about the connections we nurture along the way. Tomorrow, I will begin sharing photos of this lovely place. But today, I wanted to hold onto yesterday just a little longer.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, May 8, 2016:
