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!
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olympics. Show all posts
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.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Palermo Sisters and the Olympians: The Snow Thief (Part I)
Day One: Team Palermo set out for the Jewel of the Pacific Northwest, Vancouver, British Columbia. In preparation for this trip, we had taken a side trip last October to Detroit in order to obtain some travel documents that would facilitate our border crossing. Our schedule wouldn’t permit pat downs for fun and enjoyment this time around. This was to be wall to wall business. But Team Palermo was short the third member, Skeezy, due to an incident under continuing investigations. Apparently, a pod of whales disguised as a rainstorm had spouted water over southern California rendering all her official Olympic tickets unusable. At least this was what was reported to Sleezy and Sneezy. This was the second time those whales had infiltrated our defenses. Last month’s training mission to Salt Lake City was also done at less than a full strength Palermo Team. We had to be bailed out by local operatives, Stalky (Myrtle) and Stridey (Nora). If the whales continue disrupting our missions, we may need provide Skeezy with protection or interview a new permanent Palermo.
Fortunately, we have a Palermo undercover operative stationed there, Agent Sssshhh-hockey is on the TV Palermo. Code named Shockey, she transmitted our rendezvous point through a series of complicated directions designed to throw off any official tracking methods. The detour via Calgary really shook our tails and confused anyone following us.
Shockey’s lair is cleverly designed and decorated in a manner that would lead ordinary observers to think an average Canadian resided there. All the tell tale signs were there: a cask of maple syrup in a corner, plaid covered furniture, hand carved moose and bear bookends holding books likes like, “On the Button: The Definitive Guide to Curling Tactics”, “ The Conversational Canadian, Eh?” and “Etiquette for all Non-Syrup Related Situations”. Then the pièce de résistance, two signed posters of Wayne Gretsky and Sidney Crosby with a prayer candle always lit. There did appear to be lipstick stains on the Crosby, all in good taste I can assure you. None of her neighbors think anything suspicious is a puck.
Shockey then gave us a lay of the land tour; we mean, she showed us around Richmond which hosted the O Zone and the speed skating oval. We enjoyed a companionable dinner trading stories and plotting strategies. We had been assigned a list of items
to acquire and transport back undercover of darkness to Palermo, Inc. headquarters. Seemingly innocuous things like postcards, sweaters, pins and T-Shirts were the perfect touristy mementos that often go ignored by The Man. The Detroit documents had sped us through with out delay. Sneezy’s brilliant pre-planning was paying dividends as we headed back to headquarters through a balmy, clear night.
Fortunately, we have a Palermo undercover operative stationed there, Agent Sssshhh-hockey is on the TV Palermo. Code named Shockey, she transmitted our rendezvous point through a series of complicated directions designed to throw off any official tracking methods. The detour via Calgary really shook our tails and confused anyone following us.
Shockey’s lair is cleverly designed and decorated in a manner that would lead ordinary observers to think an average Canadian resided there. All the tell tale signs were there: a cask of maple syrup in a corner, plaid covered furniture, hand carved moose and bear bookends holding books likes like, “On the Button: The Definitive Guide to Curling Tactics”, “ The Conversational Canadian, Eh?” and “Etiquette for all Non-Syrup Related Situations”. Then the pièce de résistance, two signed posters of Wayne Gretsky and Sidney Crosby with a prayer candle always lit. There did appear to be lipstick stains on the Crosby, all in good taste I can assure you. None of her neighbors think anything suspicious is a puck.
Shockey then gave us a lay of the land tour; we mean, she showed us around Richmond which hosted the O Zone and the speed skating oval. We enjoyed a companionable dinner trading stories and plotting strategies. We had been assigned a list of items
to acquire and transport back undercover of darkness to Palermo, Inc. headquarters. Seemingly innocuous things like postcards, sweaters, pins and T-Shirts were the perfect touristy mementos that often go ignored by The Man. The Detroit documents had sped us through with out delay. Sneezy’s brilliant pre-planning was paying dividends as we headed back to headquarters through a balmy, clear night.
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