So it turns out that getting up at 5AM, travelling to Gatwick, checking in at 8AM to then get on a flight to Vancouver for a 9 hour flight leads to me being pretty much a barely functioning, monosyllabic spewing, mess of a man.
By the time we had arrived at the hotel (via taxi, after deciding to not bother trying to understand the Canadian transit system after the journey we had just gone through) and checked in, it was 10:38PM in the UK when I finally Facetime’d my family to let them know that we had arrived okay.
17 and half hours, roughly, and all I cared about was the bed we had just found. Not for anything like ‘that’, you little perverts. I just couldn’t wait to sleep the fuck out of that bed. I don’t think that’s a thing, but, if it’s not, it totally should be. Plans to head on down to the hotel’s adjoining Sports Bar in order to enjoy dinner and hockey (Vancouver Canucks vs LA Kings) went out the window as soon as heads hit pillows. I was able to convince Thea that a nap would allow us enough energy to wander around town a little bit, to familiarise ourselves with our surroundings, before heading for dinner/hockey. Instead it lead to us both realising how little energy we had, obviously going off nothing but fumes and unknown emergency reserves.
Napping a little bit, waking up periodically to try and convince ourselves to shift, only confirmed what we both already knew, deep down: we weren’t going anywhere. It was 5:30PM in the afternoon in Vancouver, the sun was shining and it was, at least according to the taxi driver, the hottest recorded day yet at 17 degrees, not that we would be able to really experience any of that.
I woke up at 2AM, gasping for water, my head pounding. It turns out that falling asleep without brushing your teeth or responsibly hydrating in hours is a sure fire method to wake up with a headache pulsating, each pulse potentially being the one in which my brain would break free of its skull cage. Without any water, I took the first world gamble of drinking water from the bathroom. Deciding against the tantalising toilet bowl water, I instead drank deeply from the tap – luke warm at best, but it might as well have been the secret to eternal life as I gulped down glass after glass. This allowed me to sleep for a further three hours before I gave up, deciding instead to rest my head by staring at my iPhone screen in the dark as Thea (who has an innate ability to sleep through anything, no matter what or where – a skill I will always be jealous of) continued to breathe contently next to me. Eventually I did the only thing a good boyfriend would, or could do, in this situation and gently woke her up after she stirred slightly with a sincere, “Are you awake?”
Up before dawn, and with NXT on my iPad, courtesy of the WWE Network (available for $9.99, dontcha know) we planned our day ahead, aiming to explore our nearby surrounding areas, with almost scarily meticulous detail being given to where we would eat today.
In fact, on reflection, the route of our day seems to be guided more by places we want to eat, than things we want to see….
So, proudly sporting a Bret Hart shirt (please like me Canada, I silently scream), I can’t wait to see what Vancouver has to offer us on our first day here, and this is before the hockey tomorrow at Rogers Arena. With the Canucks having lost to the LA Kings last night (which I discovered during my ‘this is a smart thing to do’ time staring at a screen in the dark with a headache), tomorrow’s game against the Toronto Maple Leafs should be a fun, atmospheric, game to be a part of, though, from what I understand of Canadians and hockey: lose, we may experience a riot; win, we may experience a riot.
I can’t wait.