Can we get back to travel blogging already? No. Not quite yet. I've been reflecting on my time in suburbia Vancouver, holed up in the Hilton, adjacent to the biggest mall I've ever seen (except Mall of America, of course). And I thought I'd share a few highlights. Or weirdlights (that's not a thing but it should be). So, to set the scene again, I spent 9 days recovering from one of the worst "vacations" I've had. I was tired, physically and emotionally. In my favor, though, I had been upgraded to a suite and also given free breakfast for all of my stay, and not that continental garbage where you make your own waffle while yawning, half-dressed strangers give you side eyes for spilling the batter. It was high-end breakfast with waffles made by someone else, all kinds of eggs and egg add-ons. And cheese. Cubed cheese.
Scene is set. Maybe 2 days into my stay, I ran out of clean clothes. Traveling with one backpack is key to a good vacation, in my opinion. But, in order to be successful at this and still have clean underwear, you need to rent places with washing machines. Which I did. Until I wasn't on my vacation anymore and instead, well, you know. To solve this dilemma, I hunted around for a laundry-doing place (laundrette?). But I just didn't have it in me to tow my bag of unmentionables four blocks to the establishment. Heck, I didn't have it in me to leave the hotel. So I hit up Hilton's laundry service.
Ever used a hotel laundry service before? Me neither. This is how it went. There's this form you have to fill out, and at the Hilton, they have a men's section and a "ladies" section where you check off how many of each item you are sending to be cleaned. Mens: button down shirt; slacks; underwear; jacket, etc. Womens: slip, dress, blouse, slacks, nightgown, etc. That was problematic because nothing that I had really fit most categories. Here's my list: two each of the following items: underwear, leggings, t-shirts, normal pants. So I did my best filling out the form, making substitutions and adding columns. This was important because the prices for this service were outrageous. I'm not going to call my t-shirt a blouse when blouses cost $14 each to launder. And my leggings are not slacks, at $15. In the end, I just gave up and turned in my bundle to the guy at the front desk. Fast forward 8 hours later when someone comes knocking at my door. A kind man hands me a set of freshly pressed t-shirts and leggings, on hangers and wrapped in plastic. Then he hands me this small box, tied up with a bow. It looked kind of like one of those boxes that fancy cupcakes come in, with frills and garnishes and, as i said, a bow tying it all together. What could this be? A present? For me? They really are kind at the Hilton. After attempting to get through all of the plastic and hangers to get at those clean (and now very fancy) clothes, I sat down to open my present. And what do you know! Inside was my underwear, intricately folded with paper wrapped around them. This was a stunning sight, seeing my red pair with the avocado print and my blue pair with bananas on them. Just wow. This is a lot of writing about laundry, I know, but the bill for all of this madness was $74.50. I paid almost $75 for someone to fold my undies and wrap them up with a bow. I let that sink in for a bit.
And then, I came up with a plan. No more would I pay for the most pampered laundry on earth. I was going to make my meager amount of clothes last until I reached our laundry-capable Airbnb, a mere 7 days away. Before I reveal this plan, please, do not judge. These were desperate times. Here's how it went. I had one set of clothes that were hotel room specific. Then I had another set that was for breakfast time (remember fancy free breakfast?). Every morning I took off the hotel outfit and put on the breakfast one. After looking quite respectable with the other diners (although weirdly wearing the same outfit every day), I changed back into my hotel room uniform. I was also saving one outfit for departure day - must look your best when rejoining the human race. So, I had my hotel room garb, and then I had the flashy breakfast outfit. The rest of my clothes remained dirty because I just can't afford to have Hilton do my laundry in this economy. As you may suspect, my hotel room outfit got a bit, well, worn. But I was determined to succeed in this plan, so after the loveliest of baths, I'd don those unfortunate leggings and shirt every damn day for 7 days (except, of course, during breakfast). Aren't I a genius?
Now, I will treat you to the travel blog portion of my essay. Today, Reagan left for home in the early morning. Mom and I enjoyed a lazy time doing not much of anything until around noon, when we walked to the nearby Japanese gardens and the a-little-less-nearby Gastown. We found little things to bring back home for the family. We ate excellent pasta at The Old Spaghetti Factory. We witnessed the effects of gentrification as awful poverty morphed into tourist attractions block by block on our way to Gastown. Pictures of these adventures are below. No pictures of underwear were taken, which is really best for everyone involved.
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