The Cold Plunge: The Sunshine Coast, B.C.

In my travels, I am always keen to get off the beaten track, to steer clear of the tourist traps and venture to lesser-known places. I was met with a curious head tilt whenever I shared my plans to visit the Sunshine Coast, B.C. Most people had not heard of the place, some who had visited Canada and B.C. several times. And that’s exactly why I wanted to go.

I discovered the Sunshine Coast while researching places to see and things to do in British Columbia. I added it to my itinerary out of pure intrigue. We have a Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia, and I lived in this region during my high school years and briefly in my early 20s. My dad and stepmum retired there in 2018, and I frequently visited them for weekend trips throughout the year.

The Sunshine Coast I knew boasts a subtropical climate and encompasses holiday resorts, surf spots and rural hinterland. Stretching for more than 60km along the Queensland coast, the Sunshine Coast boasts white sandy beaches, pristine waterways, lush rainforests and Heritage-listed national parks, with charming historic villages sprinkled throughout. There’s fresh local seafood, unique dining experiences and many wonderful wineries and breweries.

The Sunshine Coast in British Columbia was similar in certain ways, with its clectic, artsy oceanside villages, and yet vastly different at the same time. The coast spans the 180-km stretch from Howe Sound to Desolation Sound northwest of Vancouver, an area known for its mild weather and forested mountains. Popular pursuits are paddling, mountain biking, hiking, boating, and diving, or an afternoon spent gallery hopping, at a farmers market, or on a secluded beach.

The thing that most intrigued me about this destination was its isolation. The Sunshine Coast I knew at home was an hour and a half drive from Brisbane City via a major highway.

Although part of the mainland, British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast is accessible only by plane or ferry, due to its rugged mountain terrain.

After checking out of our student accommodation room at UBC, Janine and I drove to Horseshoe Bay in North Vancouver and joined the vehicles queuing to board the ferry. The road leading up to the terminal had turned into a carpark, and Janine waited with the car as I took a walk around.

When it was time to board, an announcement was made over loudspeaker, and the passengers stretching their legs scurried back to their vehicles. Slowly the queue began to move, and I watched with fascination from the passenger seat as Janine drove onboard the ferry. We parked the car and made our way up to the passenger decks, where we took in the breathtaking scenery. Janine was originally from Nanaimo on Vancouver Island, and had fond memories of eating the soup they served onboard the BC Ferries during crossings with her family during her childhood. So we snuck in a quick nostalgic lunch at the canteen on the short 40 minute voyage.

We disembarked at Langford and made the short drive to our Airbnb in Gibsons. Janine’s best friend Kat lived a short drive away, and was eager to catch up that night. Janine and I were utterly exhausted, so we arranged to meet for brunch the next morning.

The next day, we found Kat’s tiny house tucked away down a tree-lined dirt driveway. It was one of three dwellings on a communal plot, where Kat lived with her husband, toddler, two cats, and dozens of fairies, seen and unseen.

We were met with a flurry of warm hugs and excitable squeals. It had been over a year since Kat and Janine had seen each other. Kat gave us a tour, showing us the house and its surrounds, including a communal vegetable garden she helped tend to with her neighbours (and the elementals, of course).

I wandered around in awe. I too dreamed of having a tiny home in a fairy forest, just like this one. I took lots of pictures, to be used for a vision board for my dream home.

Our first stop of the day was the Summer Flea Market. Every year, after the curling season ends and the ice melts, Gibsons Curling Club is transformed into the largest flea market in the region. Every second Saturday in the summer, 40+ vendors sell unique items, homemade crafts, and home decor at bargain prices.

Here, I found a deck of cards by Esther and Jerry Hicks, based on their book Ask and It Is Given. These cards would offer me much-needed encouragement and reassurance later in my journey. They would prove to be a fundamental tool, in the form of daily reminders, in the personal growth that would come from starting to build my new life in Ireland.

After the market we went for brunch at The Gumboot Cafe, and a quick browse through Elfinstone’s Gem Shop. Anybody who knows me well knows that this was a dangerous shop for me to be in. If I had unlimited funds, luggage space and weight allowance, I would have bought the whole shop.

Kat and Janine dropped me off at Robert’s Creek Provincial Park, the meeting point for the Love the Land ecology tour. The walking tour was led by Talaysay Tours owners Candace and Larry Campo, members of the Shíshálh (Sechelt) and Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish) Nation. The tour took place in the salnachiya (forest) of xwesam-stelkaya (Roberts Creek), the shared homeland of the Shishalh and Sḵwx̱wú7mesh peoples. The experience started with a cup of Labrador tea and an introduction to these two potlatch tribes and their lands, waters and ways of living as an ecologically sustainable society. The people of the land have worked together in stewardship and management by collaborating and working by effective protocols for thousands of years.

That night, Kat came over to our Airbnb for drinks. We spent a wonderful night together, Janine and Kat catching up, and Kat and I getting to know each other, laughing, telling stories, and shedding a few tears along the way.

The next morning, hungover and sleep-deprived, Janine and I set out on a coastal sightseeing drive. The damp, drizzly weather matched our mood as we followed the winding Sunshine Coast Highway, surrounded on both sides by dense forest. We meandered through the small communities of Madeira Park (salalus), Kleindale, and Garden Bay (séxw?ámin), communities which form a horseshoe around the ocean coastline and are interspersed with freshwater lakes.  We ended our journey at Pender Harbour, turned around and headed home for a rest. Later that afternoon, we joined Kat once more at her tiny home for pulled pork roast on rolls for dinner.

Two Sunshine Coasts had been compared, and while they contrasted dramatically, I found them to be similar in many ways. My curiosity was satisfied. The rugged beauty and remoteness of this place appealed to me, and as I had on the Sunshine Coast back home, I thought I could live very happily here.

As the weekend drew to a close, so did my time with Janine. It was hard to believe the West Coast chapter of my epic Canadian adventure was coming to an end. I was sad to be leaving Janine, and vowed that I would not let it be ten years before we went on another adventure together.

I hope you’re enjoying coming along with me on The Cold Plunge. If you would like to help me along on this adventure, consider donating below. There are preset amounts, or you can customise an amount too. Whatever you choose, your contribution is deeply appreciated.