Today, our ship is docked in the picturesque harbor of Victoria, a place that instantly stirs a sense of familiarity and excitement within us. The air feels different here, softer somehow, as if the surrounding beauty has a calming effect on everything it touches. Seagulls drift lazily overhead, and the distant shoreline, dotted with charming buildings and lush greenery, reminds us why we fell in love with this coastal gem the first time we visited.
Back in 2017, we immersed ourselves fully in this enchanting city, joining a private, small-group tour that unfolded like a carefully written story. Each stop brought new delights, but none left a more lasting impression than the breathtaking Butchart Gardens. Even now, years later, I can close my eyes and find myself wandering those pathways again, surrounded by colors so vivid they hardly seemed real.
The gardens are not simply a collection of flowers. They are an experience, a journey through intertwined artistry and nature. As we strolled through the Sunken Garden, built in what was once a limestone quarry, we were struck by the transformation. What had once been an industrial scar on the land had become a masterpiece of design and patience. Layers of blooms cascaded down in harmonious waves, and every turn offered a new perspective more beautiful than the last.
I remember pausing more than once, not to take photos, but to absorb it all. There is something about standing in a place so meticulously created that makes you reflect on time itself. Gardens like these are not rushed. They evolve, season by season, year by year, shaped by careful hands and a deep respect for nature’s pace.
We wandered next into the Rose Garden, where the fragrance alone was enough to slow our steps. Rows upon rows of roses stretched out before us, each bloom perfect in its own way, each color telling its own story. Nearby, the Japanese Garden offered a completely different mood, one of serenity and balance, where water, stone, and foliage worked together in harmony. It felt almost sacred, a place where voices naturally softened, and footsteps slowed.
That day in 2017, we must have taken hundreds of photos, trying to capture the essence of what we were seeing. But as is often the case, photos only tell part of the story. They preserve the image, yes, but not the feeling, the stillness, the scent of flowers, the subtle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Those are the details that stay tucked away in memory, resurfacing, like today.
So, when we realized our ship would once again bring us to Victoria, we made a decision. Instead of rushing ashore to recreate that experience, we chose to remain onboard. There is something comforting about honoring a memory just as it is, without trying to reshape it or compare it to the present. Some moments are complete, and perhaps it is enough to revisit them in our own simple way.
This morning, as passengers eagerly disembarked, we found ourselves sorting through those photos from years ago, smiling at familiar scenes and remembering the joy we felt in each captured moment. It became less about what we might be missing today and more about appreciating what we have already experienced.
Of course, there is another reality gently weaving its way into our thoughts. This marks the final full day of our 25-night journey. Suitcases lie open, gradually filling as we begin packing. There is always a bittersweet feeling at the end of a long voyage.
We look forward to what comes next, yet we feel a subtle reluctance to let go of the life we’ve been living at sea.
By 10:00 pm tonight, we will place our bags outside our door, entrusted to the capable hands of the ship’s staff. It is a small act, but it signals something larger, the transition from this floating world back to land-based routines.
Tomorrow morning, we will step off the ship and be reunited with our dear friends, Rita and Gerhard. From there, we’ll begin the drive toward Vancouver, Washington, where a hotel stay awaits, and a new chapter of this journey begins.
For now, though, we remain here, suspended between past and future. With photos spread before us and memories close at heart, we find ourselves once again walking through Butchart Gardens—not with our feet, but with our minds. And somehow, that feels just right.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, May 7, 2016:
