Last night Kevin & I stayed in Vancouver after a night out with friends and family at Rodney’s Oyster House.

When you go, because you really, really should, I’d recommend the platter of fresh oysters followed by the potatoe crusted halibut.

The seafood was accompanied by plenty of Guiness and wine, both white and rose… and all in all, it was a pretty fine way to celebrate Kevin’s birthday.

Somehow, with all that feasting, we managed to miss the first night of the fireworks and everything was over and finished by the time we checked in to the Executive Hotel.

The Executive sits at the on-ramp to the Granville Bridge. You would think it would be a rather noisy location, but it was a cocoon from the world. The room was a little smaller than ones I’ve been staying in lately, but still expansive compared to European standards.

I continue to be impressed by the quality of hotels across the board.

Granted, the Executive had a few tired bits to it; the tile was a little cracked around the tub, the wallpaper starting to lift around the cold air return, but pretty minor details in comparison to the overall experience of having a good bed in a very clean and quiet environment. 

Pet Peeve Alert: Skip this next short paragraph if you don’t want to hear me go on about the coffee again. Otherwise, be warned and read on…

Do I have to complain about the non-dairy creamer? Vancouver is a city that is all about coffee and yet it’s really hard to find a hotel that truly understands this.  Instead, we got some of that typical insipid thin brew enahnced by coffee’s nemesis; the edible oil packet. 

All my whinging disappeared when I hit upon their bath products. It’s a line called Pharmacopia. The body lotion soaked into my too-dry shins and left them feeling like they’d been fed. Wonderful packaging and a good, no great!  ingredient list…I loved it enough to scoop all the little bottles and the soaps. I haven’t seen this line before and am in love. I’ll be ordering it online.

Cleaned up with the right products, we headed downtown toward our favourite coffee spot…Cafe Artigianno (the location right across from the side entrance to the Vancouver Art Gallery).

However, before we reached our destination, I spotted the Wicked Cafe at 861 Hornby and had an immediate change of plans.  I’d only been to their other location at 7th and Hemlock and had no idea this location existed.  Like their other spot, they served us heavenly cappucino and real muffins instead of those dusty things that Starbucks passes off as baking. We had a wonderful hour to  peruse our complimentary Globe & Mail from the hotel.

But I titled this post, “Writing in Spite of Myself”…and I’m finally going to get there.

It was after 1 pm by the time we had bussed and ferried and drove our way home to Sechelt.  I’d made a date with my girlfriend to go to the gym @ 3:15 and I knew that if I didn’t keep my promise to myself to write for at least one hour – each and every single day – I’d start the super-fast-slide to finding it easier and easier to never start again.

I’m happy to say I didn’t listen to my Inner Baby and instead, stepped up and parked my very Adult butt in the chair.  I set the timer for one hour and did the work. 

Was it easy? Nope.

Did I write anything that was any good? Probably not.

Did I feel fantastic when it was done? Yes.

I feel like I honoured my own commitment to me. Way to go Colleen. 

OK. I get that sounds a little Sybil-ish, but I’m writing it with irony, K?