We finally got the pictures from our trip all sorted out. View them here or click HERE to view them full-screen at the Scrapblog site. Leave us a comment to let us know what you think!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
The Palermo Sisters and the Olympians: The Snow Thief (Day Three)
Day Three: There is nothing as indulgent as being able to sleep when on vacation, long quietly blissful sleep that resets body clocks. Sleezy enjoyed being able to wake to the gentle sound of raindrops on the window. Sneezy gave her a grim, hard stare and mumbled something about snoring before pulling her blanket back over her and Brendan. I think even Brendan whirled his DVD ROM in an agitated manner at me while large capital ZZZZs appear on his screen.
After scrambling down just in time for breakfast, we set out for another raucous day in Vancouver. We unanimously decided to abandon the dark alley parking and try the next train station conveniently located at Lansdowne Mall. Here’s where the humor of the Canadian Olympic planners really stood out. Instead of being able to park at the mall, (where the station is located!) we had to park at the Technical College on the other side of the mall and traipse ½ mile (or is it 1 kilometer?) in the rain. Good One! Sleezy laughed until her feet stopped bleeding.
Maps in hand we emerged in downtown Vancouver in search of the Olympic Flame. The ever-friendly Blue Coats gave excellent directions to the waterfront location. We
exchanged cameras with another set of spies cleverly disguised as Bill and Rita from Saskatchewan. Bill remarked on the balmy weather and lack of snow plaguing the events at Cypress Mountain. Our mystery was solved with one glance at the largest Bar-B-Que in Canada. The flame was huge! As if a rock and roll lighter was blazing for the Canadian power trio band known as Rush, trying to signal them to play for the Closing Ceremonies on Sunday. We had found The Snow Thief! The amount of heat released obviously warmed the surrounding atmosphere turning snow clouds to rain. Frantically, we search the area to turn the flame on low, hoping to aid the cause. But it was a low tech version with only an on/off setting.
We headed back to the main area to soak in the ambience of the entertainment. A Drum Corps performing in the street, tourists riding zip lines and screaming overhead, street performers juggling and miming, and magicians added to the festive atmosphere. We decided to head out to Burnaby via the train in hopes of finding a less crowded restaurant for a relaxing lunch. We found Café Ilia near our transit boarding stop for Cypress. Here we watched some curling, got hockey updates and ski reports on the TV with the few people still at work.
We had Standing Room Only tickets for the Women’s Aerials Final. All day we hadn’t seen snow, only rain and fairly foggy conditions. Earlier in the games, they had canceled SRO tickets at the snowboard area due to rain. So we were very nervous. If the event was postponed, we would not be able to get a refund or attend as we were leaving the next day. But no cancellation announcement was made. So we snuck on an earlier bus departure hoping to get a better place in the viewing area. The hour drive was made fun by the radio broadcast of the Canadian Men’s Hockey game. A must win for them to advance to the medal round. The bus dropped us about 2 miles from the venue where we finally spotted snow and ice. So we had to quick step, uphill in the snow and ice to get to security. Here’s where pre-planning pays off. The waffles we attached to our shoes gave us way better traction then the other spectators. The heaters in the security tents were practically, screaming for a frozen tourist to volunteer for pat downs, repeatedly, relentlessly…..Finally after the 6th search, they discerned that Sleezy was the one imitating the beep on the metal detector.
Re-warmed and re-warned by surly Mounties, we started off for the cattle pen of SROs. We found a spot behind the camera platform but in front of the grandstand seating. We could lean against the plywood and not be jostled needlessly or molested without invitation. We snacked on the waffles, cold, but still tasty. The USA had 3 aerialists in the final 12 spots. The fog was still very thick. How would they be able to launch themselves into this white, soupy environment, twisting and flipping head over skis several times then find the white snowy slope 35 feet down? They did, somehow. A few crashed or sat their landings, but we were both surprised how well everyone did under those challenging conditions. The Americans, finished 9, 10, and 11 of the 12 competing. Since Sneezy has important Team USA connections, we were invited to attend a party at USA house back downtown, so we started for the exit as the last of the women were finishing up their jumps. The warm bus ride back help thaw us out. Then a quick stop at a real bathroom with flushing toilets and hot water sinks to finish thawing and get pretty before hoping the train back to civilization.
Team USA house was very non-descript compared to the Irish House, which was essentially a large, glowing beer tent. We arrived fashionably late and were greeted by Kristi Yamaguchi and Picabo Street. Clearly word had gotten out that we were
interviewing for a new Palermo sister. Kristi thought she’d score big points carrying around her “Dancing with the Stars” trophy. No doubt having read this blog and discerning our love of boa feathers and wild dance costumes, but she badly miscalculated when clearly an Alpine skier like Picabo is more at home in Spandex. We really only need the spare Palermo for winter skiing events and hot tubbing due to Skeezy’s reluctance to travel anywhere that the temperature is below 65 degrees. We broke the news to Kristi and she took it well, even managing a smile in pictures with us.
But by 11:30 we had to get on our way back. Despite several invitations, begging and pleading on Sleezy’s part, Sneezy managed to point us away from Irish House and in the correct direction to the train station. Tired and still a bit chilled, we grabbed 2 seats heading out of town. The next stop had us surrounded by the cast of MTV’s Real World, loud, drunken youths incessantly ringing cowbells and vigorously displaying a vocabulary limited to 3 and 4 letter words not appropriate for these pages. It wasn’t so long ago Sleezy would have joined in, instead of looking disgusted. In fact, it was only two weeks ago when she retired her cowbell. Suddenly, we felt very old. But nothing like a ½ mile hike back to the car to get the blood pumping. This time were managed not to get lost leaving and returned to the hotel by 1:30. Time to return to our real world of mortgages and paychecks.
After scrambling down just in time for breakfast, we set out for another raucous day in Vancouver. We unanimously decided to abandon the dark alley parking and try the next train station conveniently located at Lansdowne Mall. Here’s where the humor of the Canadian Olympic planners really stood out. Instead of being able to park at the mall, (where the station is located!) we had to park at the Technical College on the other side of the mall and traipse ½ mile (or is it 1 kilometer?) in the rain. Good One! Sleezy laughed until her feet stopped bleeding.
Maps in hand we emerged in downtown Vancouver in search of the Olympic Flame. The ever-friendly Blue Coats gave excellent directions to the waterfront location. We
exchanged cameras with another set of spies cleverly disguised as Bill and Rita from Saskatchewan. Bill remarked on the balmy weather and lack of snow plaguing the events at Cypress Mountain. Our mystery was solved with one glance at the largest Bar-B-Que in Canada. The flame was huge! As if a rock and roll lighter was blazing for the Canadian power trio band known as Rush, trying to signal them to play for the Closing Ceremonies on Sunday. We had found The Snow Thief! The amount of heat released obviously warmed the surrounding atmosphere turning snow clouds to rain. Frantically, we search the area to turn the flame on low, hoping to aid the cause. But it was a low tech version with only an on/off setting.We headed back to the main area to soak in the ambience of the entertainment. A Drum Corps performing in the street, tourists riding zip lines and screaming overhead, street performers juggling and miming, and magicians added to the festive atmosphere. We decided to head out to Burnaby via the train in hopes of finding a less crowded restaurant for a relaxing lunch. We found Café Ilia near our transit boarding stop for Cypress. Here we watched some curling, got hockey updates and ski reports on the TV with the few people still at work.
We had Standing Room Only tickets for the Women’s Aerials Final. All day we hadn’t seen snow, only rain and fairly foggy conditions. Earlier in the games, they had canceled SRO tickets at the snowboard area due to rain. So we were very nervous. If the event was postponed, we would not be able to get a refund or attend as we were leaving the next day. But no cancellation announcement was made. So we snuck on an earlier bus departure hoping to get a better place in the viewing area. The hour drive was made fun by the radio broadcast of the Canadian Men’s Hockey game. A must win for them to advance to the medal round. The bus dropped us about 2 miles from the venue where we finally spotted snow and ice. So we had to quick step, uphill in the snow and ice to get to security. Here’s where pre-planning pays off. The waffles we attached to our shoes gave us way better traction then the other spectators. The heaters in the security tents were practically, screaming for a frozen tourist to volunteer for pat downs, repeatedly, relentlessly…..Finally after the 6th search, they discerned that Sleezy was the one imitating the beep on the metal detector.
Re-warmed and re-warned by surly Mounties, we started off for the cattle pen of SROs. We found a spot behind the camera platform but in front of the grandstand seating. We could lean against the plywood and not be jostled needlessly or molested without invitation. We snacked on the waffles, cold, but still tasty. The USA had 3 aerialists in the final 12 spots. The fog was still very thick. How would they be able to launch themselves into this white, soupy environment, twisting and flipping head over skis several times then find the white snowy slope 35 feet down? They did, somehow. A few crashed or sat their landings, but we were both surprised how well everyone did under those challenging conditions. The Americans, finished 9, 10, and 11 of the 12 competing. Since Sneezy has important Team USA connections, we were invited to attend a party at USA house back downtown, so we started for the exit as the last of the women were finishing up their jumps. The warm bus ride back help thaw us out. Then a quick stop at a real bathroom with flushing toilets and hot water sinks to finish thawing and get pretty before hoping the train back to civilization.
Team USA house was very non-descript compared to the Irish House, which was essentially a large, glowing beer tent. We arrived fashionably late and were greeted by Kristi Yamaguchi and Picabo Street. Clearly word had gotten out that we were
interviewing for a new Palermo sister. Kristi thought she’d score big points carrying around her “Dancing with the Stars” trophy. No doubt having read this blog and discerning our love of boa feathers and wild dance costumes, but she badly miscalculated when clearly an Alpine skier like Picabo is more at home in Spandex. We really only need the spare Palermo for winter skiing events and hot tubbing due to Skeezy’s reluctance to travel anywhere that the temperature is below 65 degrees. We broke the news to Kristi and she took it well, even managing a smile in pictures with us.But by 11:30 we had to get on our way back. Despite several invitations, begging and pleading on Sleezy’s part, Sneezy managed to point us away from Irish House and in the correct direction to the train station. Tired and still a bit chilled, we grabbed 2 seats heading out of town. The next stop had us surrounded by the cast of MTV’s Real World, loud, drunken youths incessantly ringing cowbells and vigorously displaying a vocabulary limited to 3 and 4 letter words not appropriate for these pages. It wasn’t so long ago Sleezy would have joined in, instead of looking disgusted. In fact, it was only two weeks ago when she retired her cowbell. Suddenly, we felt very old. But nothing like a ½ mile hike back to the car to get the blood pumping. This time were managed not to get lost leaving and returned to the hotel by 1:30. Time to return to our real world of mortgages and paychecks.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Palermo Sisters and the Olympians: The Snow Thief (Day Two)
Day Two: Palermo Headquarters is state of the art, meaning it comes with a breakfast buffet. It became our meeting point for strategy sessions and bake-it-yourself hot, fresh waffles. It was here we decided to tempt fate and choose a different border agent, hoping to score some hot Canadian Mounties. But instead we were interrogated by the Barney Fife of the Border Guard, one Sergeant Vague Questions. “Where did we meet?” actually meant where did both of you join forces against evil and become superheroes. Fortunately, we downloaded a free app off Google that would avoid these kinds of misunderstandings from here on out.
Once again we met with Shockey for good times and casual, but elegant dining in a quaint town south of Richmond. But all good times come to an end and the trio was whittled down to a duo. This was perhaps a mistake as we miscalculated where to park. Instead of a dry, well light secured parking deck we were forced to improvise. We ended up parking at the end of a desolate, unlit alley. But hey we avoided paying for the privilege. We boarded our train to attend our first Olympic event, curling.
We arrived at our station quite impressed with the Vancouver Transit System. However, it began raining at that point and we needed to walk the final ½ mile to the Curling Centre. We hurried through the security checkpoint and passed several opportunities for free pat downs. Our joy at finally being indoors was short lived when we discovered the bathroom facilities at the venue were of the portable
variety. Dry and relieved of pressing matters we were delighted to discover we had front row tickets right on the ice, in front of the house. The house, we learned from a friendly Canadian couple seated next to us, is the large target they slide the rock to. The button is the center dot of the house. Curling might be the most strategic sport at the Winter Olympics. Plus we love that most of the curlers were of an older age, providing us with the necessary illusion of still having a scant chance of making an Olympic team. Four games were going on at once and the place was just buzzing all the time. It was here that we were put on Canadian TV, live broadcast. Shockey alerted us via email that our cover was blown and we hastily made our way to our next event.
We must at this time give our eternal gratitude to the army of blue coats. Approximately 25,000 people volunteered from all across Canada to help get people to the events by answering questions and pointing us in the right direction. Usually they stood outside of transit stops or venue entrances and exits for nothing more than the powder blue coat with the Olympic Vancouver 2010 insignia. They paid their own way to and from, paid their own lodging and meals or stayed with friends just to help make the games run smoothly. It is the best aspect of the Canadian Culture that a diverse population shares as a point of national pride. We met one of these remarkable people on our way to the UBC Arena. She was extremely kind and generous with her time, not only answering our questions but explaining a lot of things we had wondered about.
What could be more exciting than a hockey qualifier in a hockey crazy nation? We ended up with tickets for a game between the Czech Republic and Latvia. Latvia was decidedly the underdog with only 1 NHL player while the Czechs had 16 NHL players on roster. To make it even more interesting Sneezy chose the Czechs because one of the guys plays for the Nashville Predators. Sleezy took up the cause of the Latvians.
The Czechs jumped out to a quick 2-0 lead in the first period. But the relentless effort of the underdog Latvians won over many Canadian fans and by the end of the second period the crowd was split 50/50. Behind and to our left was a loud contingent of Czech supporters and behind and to our right an equally zealous Latvian section. Both sides were cheering back and forth in their native languages, so by the 3rd period we could also phonetically join in. Halfway through the 3rd period, the Latvians scored to bring it to 2-1. The crowd grew more enthusiastic and loud at the great game we were witnessing. In the final 2 minutes the Latvians tied the score and the crowd went wild! We headed into a sudden death overtime period. But about 5 minutes in the Czechs scored to bring a victory home. Sleezy’s hockey virginity gone, she stumbled out of the arena on weak knees wondering why she had waited so long to enjoy a game with sweaty, toothless guys violently crashing into each other.
Our long day at an end we headed back to retrieve our car around 10pm. After Sneezy accepted a free cup of hot chocolate from the friendly blue-coats, we trekked out of the safety of the brightly lit station, through the rainy parking lot moguls of mud puddles, across the last lighted street to our extremely dark, dead ended alley. It reminded us of where Mr. Steele rubs a little eau de carp on Mildred to hunt down the counterfeiters in Now You Steele It, Now You Don’t. We made it to the end unscathed and were delighted to see the car hadn’t been damaged, stolen or towed. Unfortunately Sleezy’s internal GPS generally works better in daylight. After a few wrong turns down one way streets we accidentally ran into Hwy 99 which leads to directly to our headquarters. We were giddy to be able to experience all that we saw and fell asleep wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Once again we met with Shockey for good times and casual, but elegant dining in a quaint town south of Richmond. But all good times come to an end and the trio was whittled down to a duo. This was perhaps a mistake as we miscalculated where to park. Instead of a dry, well light secured parking deck we were forced to improvise. We ended up parking at the end of a desolate, unlit alley. But hey we avoided paying for the privilege. We boarded our train to attend our first Olympic event, curling.
We arrived at our station quite impressed with the Vancouver Transit System. However, it began raining at that point and we needed to walk the final ½ mile to the Curling Centre. We hurried through the security checkpoint and passed several opportunities for free pat downs. Our joy at finally being indoors was short lived when we discovered the bathroom facilities at the venue were of the portable
variety. Dry and relieved of pressing matters we were delighted to discover we had front row tickets right on the ice, in front of the house. The house, we learned from a friendly Canadian couple seated next to us, is the large target they slide the rock to. The button is the center dot of the house. Curling might be the most strategic sport at the Winter Olympics. Plus we love that most of the curlers were of an older age, providing us with the necessary illusion of still having a scant chance of making an Olympic team. Four games were going on at once and the place was just buzzing all the time. It was here that we were put on Canadian TV, live broadcast. Shockey alerted us via email that our cover was blown and we hastily made our way to our next event.We must at this time give our eternal gratitude to the army of blue coats. Approximately 25,000 people volunteered from all across Canada to help get people to the events by answering questions and pointing us in the right direction. Usually they stood outside of transit stops or venue entrances and exits for nothing more than the powder blue coat with the Olympic Vancouver 2010 insignia. They paid their own way to and from, paid their own lodging and meals or stayed with friends just to help make the games run smoothly. It is the best aspect of the Canadian Culture that a diverse population shares as a point of national pride. We met one of these remarkable people on our way to the UBC Arena. She was extremely kind and generous with her time, not only answering our questions but explaining a lot of things we had wondered about.
What could be more exciting than a hockey qualifier in a hockey crazy nation? We ended up with tickets for a game between the Czech Republic and Latvia. Latvia was decidedly the underdog with only 1 NHL player while the Czechs had 16 NHL players on roster. To make it even more interesting Sneezy chose the Czechs because one of the guys plays for the Nashville Predators. Sleezy took up the cause of the Latvians.
The Czechs jumped out to a quick 2-0 lead in the first period. But the relentless effort of the underdog Latvians won over many Canadian fans and by the end of the second period the crowd was split 50/50. Behind and to our left was a loud contingent of Czech supporters and behind and to our right an equally zealous Latvian section. Both sides were cheering back and forth in their native languages, so by the 3rd period we could also phonetically join in. Halfway through the 3rd period, the Latvians scored to bring it to 2-1. The crowd grew more enthusiastic and loud at the great game we were witnessing. In the final 2 minutes the Latvians tied the score and the crowd went wild! We headed into a sudden death overtime period. But about 5 minutes in the Czechs scored to bring a victory home. Sleezy’s hockey virginity gone, she stumbled out of the arena on weak knees wondering why she had waited so long to enjoy a game with sweaty, toothless guys violently crashing into each other.Our long day at an end we headed back to retrieve our car around 10pm. After Sneezy accepted a free cup of hot chocolate from the friendly blue-coats, we trekked out of the safety of the brightly lit station, through the rainy parking lot moguls of mud puddles, across the last lighted street to our extremely dark, dead ended alley. It reminded us of where Mr. Steele rubs a little eau de carp on Mildred to hunt down the counterfeiters in Now You Steele It, Now You Don’t. We made it to the end unscathed and were delighted to see the car hadn’t been damaged, stolen or towed. Unfortunately Sleezy’s internal GPS generally works better in daylight. After a few wrong turns down one way streets we accidentally ran into Hwy 99 which leads to directly to our headquarters. We were giddy to be able to experience all that we saw and fell asleep wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)