It started with a conversation over lunch a couple of weeks back with Monique and Ferdinand, friends of Keli. As part of my continuing attempts to understand the strange Canadians I bump into everyday I thought I would tackle the subject of hunting. I mean hunting? Canadians are nice to the point of extinction, probably the most inoffensive nation on earth? But over lunch I discovered that Monique’s family are hunters, and that both her and Ferdinand use their own guns to hunt deer, elk and moose during the fall. This I had to see.

We arrive at the Klein’s workshop to find Mrs Klein, aged 73, chiselling Elk blood and flesh off the table of an industrial bandsaw that could have cut a Mini Metro in two straight down the middle. Dressed in a 1950s pink blouse and trouser combo. Hair curled and set to perfection. Green sparkling eye shadow, dark eye-liner extending to the side, blusher on her cheeks.  She takes one look at Keli and grabs her in a big hug, chisel in one hand, bleach rag in the other.

Pelts hang all around the workshop, some killed by the Klein’s and others by customers waiting for Mr Klein to turn them into a fur coat or a handbag. Mr Klein explodes through the door, a giant of a man with hands like shovels and a belly built with meat he stalked, killed, butchered himself. A man of a previous age, with a touch of a bully or slave driver in him. Thoroughly Austrian, with a think accent, he bellowed at Mrs Klein and slapped me around the workshop encouraging me to laugh at his jokes. They were both wonderful.

We spent an hour with them, and after a few minutes talking in the workshop Monique led us upstairs to the trophy room where Mr Klein hangs his personal collection of heads and full bodies, and where he sells pelts and stuffed animals to the public. I was amazed. All four walls of the room were lined with mounted heads. The old pool table was buried in layers of bear, wolf, coyote, elk, and deer pelts. A stuffed cat in a basket sat on a sofa, awaiting collection by a loving owner who couldn’t let go. One wall section held the results of Africa on a hunting trip in the 70s: hippo, zebra, antelope heads, and a chess table held up by an elephant foot. The elephant had died of natural causes, and Mr Klein had purchased the foot.

Bears are only considered a problem in Canada when they’ve learned how to enter your house and open your fridge to get at the goodies. Until then they’re easy to live alongside. A bear on your sofa, drinking a warm beer and watching a movie is cool. If the beer is cool however, the bear is not. Mr Klein conversed passionately about Parks and Wildlife in BC, who kill the offending bears to protect the population, but then just dump the carcass in landfill. These were people who have survived a war, and understood what is was to live on very little. Meat is precious, and meat killed, butchered, and cooked by your own hand is optimum.

I love Canada. I’m so at home in its wild terrain and expansive landscapes. The seasons here are so potent, from long warm Okanagan summers to cold crisp Whistler winters. As I listened to the Kleins talk about how they used every part of the animals, and that they had 6 chest freezers full of meat that they had butchered themselves I got so excited about hunting and the prospect of sustaining myself without relying on Tescos.

Hunting for sport without an appreciation or need for the meat, or hunting species that are endangered, I have a problem with. But spending a long weekend tracking moose in northern BC. Learning about the habits of the animal, learning how to kill the animal with minimal suffering, carrying the carcass out to your truck with your own hands. It’s the disconnection from the reality of meat eating that I find offensive, not the reality of killing animals.

We headed up to Monique and Ferdinand’s for a long evening of wine, laughter and beautiful moose steaks. I felt so privileged to have met the Kleins and be welcomed into their very special home. One more step along the journey of my Canadian education, and other lesson on sustainable living that convinces me that turning our attention to growing our own food, and reconnecting with the reality of a diet that includes meat is essential if we plan to continue living on this planet for more than a decade or two more.

Next time it’s fitness and exercise, that thought is coming together. I’m gutted I didn’t have a camera to show you some of the incredible sights in the trophy room. I’m hatching a plan to return for a visit and take some shots of me wrestling grizzly bears!

Patti picked us up on arrival and gave us the run-down to the place in the car on the way back. It went pretty much like “you have your own room and plenty of space, so just do what you want. We can eat together, or you can eat on your own, just do what you like. We have bicycles and a truck that you can use, just do what you like…” Wonderfully hospitable and really relaxed, we were grateful for a couple of days of down time. It’s funny actually how busy life can feel even when we don’t have jobs or other significant commitments. I feel like it has taken me a month just to wind down from the process of leaving.

We unpacked our bags, put on our shorts and jumped straight onto the bikes for a cycle down into Cow Bay. Patti explained it was a 15 minute cycle – easy. It took 45 and we arrived in the Bay ready for some lunch, a beer and some ice cream. That dealt with we took a walk through the shops by the water and had a peek boats in the marina. The Valley is experiencing a renaissance after decades of extreme poverty following the collapse of the timber trade. Patti and Mike’s farm is 100 years old – very unique for the West Coast of Canada – and was derelict when they found it 15 years ago because the valley economy was so depleted. Today there is a thriving community of small independent agriculture,  organic horticulture, vineyards, and some amazing restaurants, pubs and stores that specialise in selling the produce grown locally. We had a few different bottles of wine during the three days, all produced within 15 miles of the farm, and we were really impressed with the quality and variety.

After a gruelling cycle back to the farm, Patti really must be an undercover Olympic cyclist, we jumped straight into the pool for a cool down and some fun with our new waterproof digital camera. We bought it because we fully expect most of our stuff to be soaked whilst at sea, and we didn’t want to have to worry about the camera’s health when we were capturing some amazing sea creatures or “here’s us in the middle of a hurricane” photos. You can see the results in our photo gallery, but I thought a couple for show wouldn’t be excessive!

Over dinner at the farm Patti talked about the history of the area and how she came to find the place and it fed Keli and my imagination about the possibility of owning a small property somewhere in the world where we could grow our own food and raise some animals for eating. We’ve talked forever about sustainability and becoming more self-sufficient, and whilst Patti’s farm is our of our league, it reminded us how good we feel when we are in these environments, a similar feeling to visiting Bryonie and Craig on their land in Leitrim. We’ll have our eyes peeled as we sail in Central America!

There are 7 aboriginal tribes in the immediate area and so many of the town names and much of the art is derived from and connected to the First Nations. Patti has this fantastic sculpture by her pool carved by a friend who is a First Nations chainsaw carver by her pool. On Thursday morning we got a walking tour of the farm and met the Supremes, two of Patti`s free range chickens. We met the horses, Star and Remington, and the feral farm cats. And Babz, Patti`s dog, proved her dominance of the forest as we walked the trail around the perimeter.

Patti recently completed a Conflict Analysis Masters at Royal Roads Uni in Victoria and we had loads of conversations about her work in Canada and what Keli in particular had been doing in Ireland. It was great to be able to share experiences with her. Keli had looked at their Human Security and Peacebuilding Masters programme as a possible next step after sailing and so in the afternoon we took the car and headed up to the campus for a look round and a quick chat with their admissions staff. It was good to put a face to their course material, and to look around the campus and get a sense of the place.  We may just get back here at some stage in the future.

On Thursday evening we headed out to a restaurant for our final meal on the Island, before jumping on the bus home mid morning on Friday. It felt like a very long two days which was great. Both Kel and I got some reading and thinking done, drank some great coffee, and breathed in some country air. We’re meeting our yacht broker on Wednesday and so this week the boat buying part of the adventure should pick up some steam. Will keep you posted.

It was amazing to be on the west coast, looking out to the Pacific and watching the cruise ships sail their way up to Alaska. Such a stunning coastline. Alaska cruise deals.

A little snap of Keli, Nancy and Peter to sign off this evening. Nancy read a poem at our wedding and is Keli’s Godmother.

Keli, Nancy and Peter