That would have been a particularly mellow holiday season had it not been for the treachery of the weather. It began, really, with me pulling out of my driveway after the first major cold snap (the night of Dec. 21st). I very quickly discovered that the Westfalia was in no mood for travel. As we pulled up to the first traffic light I pressed my foot all the way to the floor to find that the master brake cylinder had cracked, the brake fluid had drained, and we had the stopping power of butter. Nothing happened. Very gingerly I pulled the beast around and into the mechanic’s garage (two doors from my house).

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$850 and three days later, the car was of little use to us anyway. The weather had gotten so bad in the upper redoubts of West Vancouver that getting to Michelle’s parents house on Christmas Eve required us parking at the bottom of 300m high hill and then piling all our luggage and gifts on to an old sleigh and pulling it up through the ice and snow (Grinch-style).

After that, it was all turkey and gravy. Michelle’s mom made a superb Christmas dinner, and after putting our very anxious children to bed we stuffed the stockings, had another drink, and fell asleep ourselves.

Christmas morning was beautiful. All was quiet, with snow deep and crisp and even. Jack and Pip tore through their presents like raptors through a primary school, and following a hearty breakfast of chocolate and coffee we piled our things into the sleigh and tore down the hill to the car to ready for Christmas #2 in Victoria. Because of the snow and the icy roads (and a missed ferry), we didn’t get to my mom’s house until after 5pm. The kids went through their second present opening session by a roaring fire (listening to Neil Young), and then we all sat down for another turkey dinner, complete with paper hats and lots of Stella Artois.

The next few days are sort of a blur. The grandparents took the kids up to Point No Point Resort in Sooke, so Michelle and I were mercifully left to our own devices. We bumped into lots of old friends; breakfasted and lunched at Mo:Le twice; got high on caffeine at Habit several times; enjoyed a truly fantastic dinner of five courses at Fernwood’s excellent Stage; and followed walkabouts with driveabouts and early nights with late mornings. I grew up in Victoria, so it’s always a headful of memories and reminders of paths taken and not.

Point No Point is a post-Christmas family tradition, so we were quite eager to get up there and join everyone. It’s an ethereal, Big Sur kind of spot. The noise of the ocean never fades, and they keep the cabins well supplied with kindling and mossy wood. My iPhone had no reception. There was no wireless. No TV. No radio. There was, however, a hot tub on the deck, lots of wine and beer (My sister’s husband brought a big bottle of Le Fin du Monde) and a long and winding path down to a longhouse on the beach, complete with open fire pit and benches. It really does feel like the end of the continent, and we love it.

On the 29th it was time to get home and back to work. We packed our things and piled into Westy, listening to the King’s College Cambridge Choir sing Agnus Dei on the old stereo as we headed north to catch the ferry home, happy to have had some time to slow down and reflect on both 2008 and 2009.

We hope you had a great holiday, and wish you the best for the new year.