|
Cigars, Spas and SerendipityBy Margaret Deefholts
It has been an unusual day. I’ve replenished body, mind and spirit, having done four things I’ve never done before. And as a bonus, I’ve spent the entire time in one of my favourite places in the Greater Vancouver region: Steveston
Raintree Day Spa is next on my list. I’ve never been to anything as sophisticated as a spa, and while I’m curious about Swedish massages, Shiatsu and La Stone therapy treatments, I’m also a bit skittish. My skin is innocent of anything other than plain old soap and water, and my idea of pampering my bod is to occasionally immerse it in one of those rather cloying perfumed bath crystals displayed on hotel vanity counters. Notwithstanding my doubts, an hour later my skin is smoother than a rose petal, and I feel as sensuous and slinky as Cleopatra emerging from her bath of asses’ milk. I have been treated to a full-body aromatherapy exfoliation accompanied by a Vichy rain shower massage, and rubbed all over with a Shea butter moisturizer. While their Fountain of Youth facial would, in my case, be wishful thinking (or a miraculous transformation), I’ll certainly be back for a “heavenly manicure” or an “aromatherapy pedicure”.
Serene and relaxed as a smiling Buddha, I saunter along the waterfront, and contemplate the dove-grey sky and wind-rippled waters of the Fraser River. In the summer the colours are strong and vibrant; today in January, the near-deserted boardwalk and the pale afternoon light lends the scene a gentle melancholy…as if the village is mourning the passing of sun-filled days and the throngs of visitors with their dogs, their kids, their bright chatter and laughter.
Out on the street again, the early
dusk of winter has closed in. Moncton Street is still wearing its Yuletide
season finery: spangles of gold, sapphire, emerald and ruby lights are
suspended like jewelled fishing nets above the road. The afternoon face of
the village has disappeared; it is no longer forlorn.
At Papi’s Ristorante Italiano, the aroma of seafood is seductive and I round off my series of unique experiences by dining on wild salmon and prawns steamed in fig leaves, drizzled with date and anise seed vinaigrette. It’s the perfect finale to a perfect day.
Photo credits: Getting There: Contact information on the four
retailers mentioned in the article. Raintree Day Spa Steveston Village Gallery Serendipity’s Backyard Aside from the above, Steveston offers the discerning shopper a diversity of designer jewellery, curios, crafts, clothing and more. Take a look at the village newsletter for the latest information at http://www.steveston.bc.ca/newsletter.html Fine Dining: Papi’s Ristorante Italiano General: Tourism Richmond |
|
TM
Steveston
village which is part of the City of Richmond has drawn me back time and
again. I’ve explored its shops, its cafes, its parks, and its surrounding
waters. I’ve listened to tales about the lives of its people—fishermen,
dockyard hands, and the men and women who once worked in the canneries.
From
the late 1800s to a couple of decades after World War II, the fishing boats
returned to Steveston, their decks seething with silver-scaled salmon.
Although the fishing industry has since fallen on difficult times, Steveston
continues to be Canada’s largest commercial fishing harbour.
Yet, despite the presence of boat
storage marinas and industrial docks, the village still retains the folksy
charm of a small fishing community, where seasonal catches of bass, cod,
halibut and, of course, salmon, are offered for sale at the waterfront. The
streets are flanked by a variety of boutiques, craft and gift shops, and
one of the perks of being a journalist on the prowl is
chatting to store owners about their products and, in some instances, being
invited to sample their merchandise.
So here I
am at Robusto—Premium Cigars and Coffee, at eleven o’clock in the
morning listening to owner Tom Orange, talk about the history and traditions
of the cigar industry. Contrary to what I’d always believed, Cuba is not the
world’s largest producer of cigars; that distinction belongs to the
Dominican Republic. I’m also surprised to hear that the industry is
controlled by a few elite family-run corporations, and that it isn’t unusual
for business deals to be made on the strength of a handshake. Furthermore,
cigars are not, as I’d assumed, the sole preserve of macho males for, as Tom
hastens to assure me, his customers include several women aficionados. And
what sort of cigars do they usually select? A popular choice is a Torano
brand product called Sweet Nostalgia, and would I like to try one?
An
irresistible offer.
Tom demonstrates how to clip one end, char the other, and lighting it, he
finally hands over the slim, pale brown cigar. “Don’t inhale,” he cautions.
“This isn’t a cigarette! Just swirl the smoke gently through your throat and
nostrils.” Sweet Nostalgia tastes faintly like sugared cinnamon, (the
tips are soaked in sugarcane juice as part of the manufacturing process) but
the tobacco aroma is rich and full-bodied. It gives me a pleasant buzz.
If the
outdoor world is sombre, the walls of the Steveston Village Gallery
are a riot of colour—abstract paintings in cobalt, orange and purple,
charcoal sketches, and bold designs painted on glass. I linger, as one does
in a museum, marvelling at a translucent porcelain bowl which glows as if
lit by embers from within, and pause in front of elongated copper figurines
frozen in a ballet of elegance and grace. Owner Tamaka Fisher, has enduring
family ties to Steveston—her grandfather was a fisherman who lived and
worked in the village, and,
as an artist herself, she felt
that the time had come to establish a commercial art gallery (the only one
of its kind in Steveston) showcasing local talent. The gallery also runs a
series of art classes and Tamaka urges me to try my hand at painting a small
square of canvas, in order to, as she puts it, “awaken my dormant
creativity.” I pick up a brush, swirl it in emerald green acrylic paint, and
take a shot at producing a Christmas tree, adding a gold star at the top by
way of embellishment. Tamaka maintains a tactful silence, but it’s evident
that the artist within me is in deep, if not permanent, hibernation. I
figure it’s time to move on.
Into the realm of the soul. At
Serendipity’s Backyard, the music is soothing and the shelves are
stacked with books on yoga, meditation, inspirational healing and spiritual
guidance. I peer at CDs of Indian ragas, at shimmering crystals, sacred
rocks and other aids to attaining heightened awareness. The two owners,
Shannon Sorensen and Deb McDonald aren’t merely running a business—they are
sharing their own journey of spiritual discovery with their clientele. My
fourth never-done-this-before experience comes in the shape of a Taro card
reading.
I shake my head ruefully at the results but perk up when Shannon
gives me a quick lesson in belly-dancing. I hip-strut, and the coins on my
sash shimmer and ‘jingle’. Customers pause, their eyes widening in
incredulity—a grey-haired mama belly-dancing? ‘If she can,’ I hear them
thinking, ‘heck I can too!’ And so they should—at Swara InSpiritations
next door!
Families with their
kids, grandkids, and pets are out…laughing, chatting, pausing before gaily
decorated windows and sipping hot chocolate at sidewalk cafes.