Hot Chocolate, Hot Springs & Four Whole People

There’s a funny thing that happens when you’ve been travelling for weeks. Home starts to feel familiar again... but only just. We seem to exist in that strange little space between arriving and leaving, where washing machines are exciting, hot showers are luxurious, and somehow there are still a thousand kilometres to drive.

Our last week was a bit like that.

We rolled out of Squamish on Tuesday morning and pointed the Rhino towards Vancouver for something far less glamorous than sightseeing—an overdue oil change with our beloved mechanics. The Rhino was happy. We were happy.

Naturally, our next stop involved food.

We found a delicious gluten-free bakery with plenty of dairy-free treats, and everything we tried was dangerously good. If you've ever lived gluten-free, you'll understand the joy of walking into a bakery and not feeling left out. Yum.

One of my errands was collecting a package from Harbour Air. As I wandered down to the harbour I found myself stopping... not because I had forgotten where I was going, but because Vancouver looked ridiculously beautiful. The mountains, the water, the float planes coming and going—it really is a spectacular city. We visit often enough that I sometimes forget just how stunning it is. Had we been seeing it for the first time, it absolutely would have earned a spot on the blog.

One building that especially caught my eye was the striking Butterfly tower. Designed by Bing Thom Architects, the twisting 57-storey residential tower appears to spiral gently upward like butterfly wings. Its white exoskeleton isn't just beautiful—it also supports generous balconies overflowing with greenery, giving the whole building a living, organic feel. It's one of those buildings that makes you stop, stare and wonder how on earth someone imagined it into existence - somewhat reminiscent of Gaudi but also quite unique.

The rest of the day was classic Vancouver errand-running: visiting our woodworking friend Peter (Charlotte's dad) in his wonderful workshop, checking on a print job at Graphiczoo, dropping in to check on jewellery porgress while Cotty watched the World Cup, also a few Vancouver regular stops along the way.

Wednesday was another wonderfully full day.

We caught up on more jewellery projects before jumping on the ferry to Bowen Island and back to meet up with a customer., later on Granville Island I had a lovely chat with Lucy at the Craft Council, and then somehow found ourselves boarding the 8:30 pm ferry home feeling like we'd squeezed three days into one.

Then came something we'd been quietly craving.

Home.

Not forever.

Just long enough.

Thursday and Friday disappeared into the wonderfully ordinary rhythm of laundry, cooking proper meals, emptying every last thing out of the Rhino, giving it a much-needed clean, reorganising absolutely everything, filming some video, and then... putting it all back again.

Travel is funny that way. Sometimes the adventure is unpacking everything you own onto the driveway before somehow making it all fit again.

Saturday saw us cooking and then heading to Port Alberni before spending the night with Auntie Rhonda and Uncle Bill and sleeping in the Rhino where their camper usually lives.

By Sunday we were winding our way towards Tofino, our first stop was to have a look at the Taylor river pullout and then straight to Tofino Chocolate for their elixir hot chocolate and ice cream tucked safely into a thermos. Somehow the thermos magically keeps it as ice cream which we enjoyed much later.

We met up with our friend Rob from Ruston, who generously treated us to a delicious dinner at Ombre, and we helped him knock off a few errands on his list and found ourselves parked in a wonderfully flat, safe spot for the night.

The next morning the real adventure began.

More hot chocolate. More ice cream. (Clearly we've found our travel food niche.)

We transferred our bags into Rob's truck, found a good home for the Rhino, ticked off another round of errands, loaded groceries... unloaded them... loaded Ben’s sweet boat... parked the truck... and finally headed out across wonderfully calm water towards Hot Springs Cove.

The crossing couldn't have been more perfect.

Blue skies.

Glassy water.

And Ben, quite possibly the nicest boat driver imaginable.

Along the way we dropped supplies at several cabins before eventually landing on Dennis's wonderfully rocky beach. Everything had to be hauled up by hand to the cabin—a workout disguised as arriving.

Dennis was busy building a new tool shed with Steven and was wisely not to be distracted, so we wandered over to visit Connor's place instead.

The last time we'd seen it, it didn’t exist.

Now it was an incredibly thoughtful little cabin full of clever angles, beautifully positioned windows, ingenious storage and an efficient solar setup that somehow managed to feel spacious while looking like it would take almost no effort to clean. I came away feeling thoroughly inspired.

Back at Dennis's we demolished some nut burgers—our favourite expedition food—and then set off for the hot springs.

The walk is never just a walk.

First there's the muddy sections to negotiate, then the canoe crossing, followed by the long boardwalk through rainforest. The newer boardwalk is practical, though it lacks a little of the magic of the old trail. Thankfully the towering rainforest hasn't changed.

The springs, however, had.

There were... people.

About six of them.

Practically overcrowded by our standards.

Cotty managed a very small soak squeezed into an equally small space while I decided another day might offer better odds. The tide also hadn't quite lined up for our favourite pool, with too much cold seawater still sneaking in.

Even so, the sunset walk back through the forest was beautiful.

By the time we reached our little tent perched on the cabin deck I was completely spent.

It was, however, a very sweet little setup, and we had everything we needed.

The next morning started with coffee before walking all the way around the back of the bay to visit Shaun.

Seeing someone's dreams slowly become reality is always special. His latest projects and future plans were every bit as inspiring as the delicious cold refreshing drink and snack he offered us.

We also managed to find the correct trail back this time...

A definite improvement.

Back at Dennis's another nut burger fuelled the afternoon. I squeezed in a little jewellery work, we enjoyed a well-earned nap, and later wandered off to explore another property that couldn't have been more different from the others.

Dinner that evening was another masterpiece conjured up by Rob.

Feeling suitably fortified, we decided to try the springs again.

This time everything aligned.

We even reunited a lost hat with its owner along the way.

When we reached the pools they were exactly as we'd hoped.

Empty.

Well... completely empty until a rather enormous group of four people arrived.

We'd already had plenty of time in our favourite pool by then, so we couldn't complain.

Walking back through the rainforest at sunset felt equal parts magical and slightly terrifying once darkness settled beneath the trees. We crossed the canoe without incident and even remembered to tie it up properly this time. Especially as we had seen a bear earlier in the day and had left just as a cougar story had been recounted!

The previous evening... not so much.

My excuse was complete exhaustion.

Cotty insists it was because he was wearing the wrong pants.

Either way, Dennis and Steven had very kindly fixed our mistake before we got back.

Oops.

The walk home over uneven roots in the dark felt considerably longer than I remembered, but I managed it without requiring a piggyback, which felt like a personal achievement.

One of my toes had apparently decided to stage a dramatic protest and one leg was particularly grumpy, so sleep took a little longer than expected.

When it finally arrived, it didn't last.

A charm of hummingbirds spent the morning buzzing so close over the tent that it genuinely sounded like they were trying to land on it.

Not the worst alarm clock.

After breakfast we packed up our temporary home and carried everything over the hump to where Rob keeps his boat. He kindly ferried us to the dock to catch our floatplane back to Tofino.

Standing on that dock felt wonderfully familiar.

Time passes in funny ways in places like Tofino and Hot Springs Cove.

You see friends celebrating twenty years of running a bookstore.

Children you remember suddenly appear as capable adults running the office at your favourite floatplane company.

Life quietly carries on while somehow standing still at the same time.

Our flight back couldn't have been more perfect.

Clear skies.

Calm air.

And whale after whale visible from above.

Seeing them from a floatplane gives you an entirely different appreciation for just how enormous they really are.

As we flew south I couldn't help reflecting on the last forty days.

Estonia.

The Yukon.

And now, finally, Hot Springs Cove once again.

It's still one of my favourite places on Earth—not because of the hot springs themselves, but because of the people, the memories, and the feeling that time somehow moves differently there.

We made one last fly-by visit to Port Alberni to collect the food we'd left behind and, more importantly, give Auntie Rhonda and Uncle Sonny a proper squish before heading for Nanaimo.

There was a little jewellery business to take care of, followed by a lovely catch-up with Cotty's cousins, Nicole and Cindy.

Then, as if the week hadn't already been wonderfully full enough, Nicole and her kids arrived at our place shortly after we did.

Which means our "homeish" chapter isn't quite over yet.

The adventure simply keeps changing shape.