After clearing Canadian immigration in Victoria – a lengthy process, given the crush of arrivals – we wheeled our bags around the bay to the office of Harbour Air, where we parked them while we went off to lunch in the sunshine. Victoria’s a cheerful place in a picture book setting, with a variety of restaurants to choose from along the waterfront. Boats, sculls and floatplanes busy themselves in the natural bay harbour. On a sunny day, the world's troubles seem far away.
With an hour to kill after lunch, we did a little shopping. Jones wanted paper in which to wrap some gifts. As we passed through a mall, she noticed that several mannequins modelling clothes were young women and not dummies. They were excellent, frozen in space and time for the occasion (for a few minutes at least) although I did earn a smile from one when I took a picture.
Back at Harbour Air, we checked in for the flight from Victoria to Langley (one of several small airports scattered around greater Vancouver). It lies just down the road from the home of Barbara’s nephew, Chris Jones (wife, Jane, and young children, Luke and Dave) with whom we were to spend the weekend.
I love Canada’s floatplanes and flying in them. Check-in is a breeze. There are no queues, no questions, no searches – none of the dreaded apparatus that has killed off the romance of flying. The operator weighs your luggage, takes your money and gives you a ticket. The airline’s small Beavers (which we flew last year from Prince Rupert to the Queen Charlotte islands) take four/five passengers. 
The bigger Otters, which are amphibious, take up to ten. The Otter has small retractable wheels at the front and back of its long floats. The short flight to Langley offered us wonderful views of the suburbs of Victoria before passing over numerous green islands that dot the waters in that area. Tiny yachts heeled over in the wind while serious ferries ploughed their way between Vancouver and the islands.
Chris and Luke were waiting for us at Langley airport. They led us down the road to pick up a hire car and then took us home. Their house in the suburbs of Langley is fringed with a curtain of trees and backs on to the woods. A high wooden deck brings occupants almost within touch of the trees. These are home to racoons, coyotes and other denizens of the wild. You hardly know that you're in the midst of a great city.We occupied the downstairs guestroom. So, for much of the time, did the family's lively cats
Maverick (Abyssinian) and Stefanie (Siamese). They were friendly and curious creatures, who were pleased to share our company and our bed.
The next morning we were joined by another of Barbara’s nephews, Bevan, who had made the 5-hour overnight flight from New York with his wife, Sion. The couple live in Princeton, where Bevan has worked for a number of years.
ON THE DECKBEVAN & CHRIS
So it was pretty much a reunion of the European and North American Joneses. Our first stop was the South African shop in Langley for biltong and other essential supplies. The products of my childhood lined the shelves. I felt quite nostalgic. At the back of the shop three beefy Afrikaners conversed as they made boerewors (a spicy South African sausage) that was evidently much in demand.
CHRISA fourth, who confessed to having arrived from Pretoria 13 years earlier, served a flow of customers. Jones was delighted to find supplies of Pro-Vita biscuits. Rugby seemed to be the main subject of conversation among the shoppers(Canada were playing an Irish side that afternoon).
From Langley Chris led us an hour eastwards, past Harrison hot springs, to a lake on whose grassy banks we lazed away the afternoon. Small boats hummed around (only electric motors are permitted). 
Canada geese conducted their goslings along the lake shore and the world seemed briefly at peace with itself. British Columbia is blessed with thousands - quite literally - of these little lakes, set beneath snow-laden mountains. On holiday weekends the roads are filled with huge caravans, hitched to muscular pick-ups, en route to such destinations.
On the Sunday we visited a small resort known as White Rock – from the large white “erratic” which some ancient glacier had deposited on the shore. Mudflats, populated by a few birds and walkers, stretched out towards the distant ocean. A long pier offered access to the yachtsmen whose boats were tied up in the lee of a rocky breakwater.
Thus the weekend passed. Bevan and Sion returned to the airport for a red-eye return. Jane dropped us off the next morning at the Sky-train terminus and Chris met us in the city to convey us to our hotel. For such great hospitality we thank them. We had two days to explore Vancouver and once again we began with a hop-on, hop-off bus tour of the city.
You soon understand why Vancouver is regarded as the world's most desirable place to live. It has everything – you can ski in its mountains, sail in its seas, bask on its beaches or gasp at the vast mirrored buildings that bestride the downtown area. A pity only that it is equally attractive to numerous vagrants who bum a living from the public.
On our second day in the city we visited Stanley Park, a thousand acres of wilderness on the door step of downtown. It was possible, we were told, to walk a 14 mile route around the perimeter. We planned a pleasant amble but it was hours before, heavy-legged, we found a link back to the road. It’s a brilliant walk, past the floatplane base, along the bay and under the towering Lion’s Gate bridge. A relieving snooze later, we walked along to the city’s art gallery for a special exhibition of Dutch masters. The gallery, like many other shops and institutions in Canada, refused point blank to take $100 notes because of the amount of forgery that goes on.
With a couple of hours to spare the following morning, we made our way across the creek to the Granville Island market.
A little inflatable ferry, powered by an outboard motor, spends its day criss-crossing the water with passengers. This market, like the North Shore market we’d earlier visited, offers every variety of food, handicraft and clothing. It's an easy place to wile away an hour. Late morning we fetched a hire car and set off across the city for Whistler - of which more in due course.
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