Flying the Edge of America:
Victoria, British Columbia
On this leg of their journey, good friends lured Julia and David across the border, pulling them away from America and into Canada. Departing Port Angeles under clear skies, they soon watched as clouds began to gather—just as the forecast had predicted. Fortunately, their flight was short, requiring only a climb to 4,000 feet for the 20-minute hop to Victoria. This allowed them to stay below the bumpy cloud layer and enjoy a smooth ride.
Victoria International Airport, designed to accommodate commercial jet traffic, boasted a long, wide runway. The tower controller granted David permission to land long—allowing him to glide farther down the runway before touching down, reducing taxi time to the parking apron. It was a momentous occasion—his first time flying Matilda beyond U.S. borders, and his first experience clearing customs with his aircraft. Thankfully, both processes went off without a hitch.
The contrast between Victoria and Port Angeles was striking. Crossing 26 miles of water had transported Julia and David into an entirely different world. Victoria thrived with bustling restaurants, lively shops, and pedestrians enjoying the vibrant streets. The harbor brimmed with activity—boats of all kinds swayed in the marina, including towering luxury yachts that exuded extravagance. Along the waterfront, artists and craftspeople lined the streets, showcasing their work at bustling market stalls. To celebrate their successful international landing, Julia and David indulged in a fantastic lunch paired with a glass or two of exceptional Canadian wine. Julia couldn’t shake the feeling that a meal like this would be impossible in Port Angeles, where dining options likely leaned toward the familiar trio of iceberg lettuce, Thousand Island dressing, coleslaw, and fries.
Victorians—meaning the people of Victoria, not 19th-century aristocrats—seemed to have a deep affection for flowers. Hanging baskets overflowed with vibrant blooms, adorning nearly every lamppost in town. But nothing compared to the dazzling spectacle of Butchart Gardens. Once an old quarry, the site had been transformed into a sprawling floral paradise, filled with blossoms of every imaginable color. One particularly picturesque spot featured a serene pond with a fountain, encircled by bright flowers and intricate rock formations—an ideal backdrop for a photo. As Julia admired the scene, she spotted a raccoon scurrying among the flowers before disappearing into what appeared to be a small cave. A creature of fine taste, it had claimed prime real estate in this botanical wonderland. Raccoons, known for their meticulous habits, are famous for washing their food before eating—what better place to do so than beside a fountain in an immaculate garden?
Continue the adventure in my next excerpt from Flying the Edge of America.