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Ya Ya To SisterhoodAt Vancouver Island’s Tigh-Na-MaraBy Jane CassieThere’s nothing like the contentment of long-lived friendships. Blissfully bound by solid roots, treasured memories, and unwavering trust, true blue sisterhood feels as comfy as a pair of well-worn slippers. At least, that’s what I discover every time I escape on a weekend getaway with three of my ‘oldest’ and best buds.
Then just before we all turned fifty, something serendipitous happened. After coincidentally connecting online, we shared a unanimous yearning to get together. Retreat plans were made, flights were booked, and upon re-uniting, tears were shed and the gap of time miraculously vanished. Over our two-day stay we flashed back to the past, shared goals for the future and made a unified oath to connect every year for a weekend of soulful sisterhood. This year, we escape to Vancouver Island’s Tigh-Na-Mara Resort and Spa where their pajama party package offers us the perfect opportunity to do just that.
West Coast flavour flows through to our refined two-bedroom bungalow where rich fir logs meld with muted earth tones, and impressive perks like a pulsating jet tub and thirsty white robes promise a pampering stay. In spite of our attempt to escape all cooking responsibilities, the totally equipped kitchen comes in handy for quick snack preparation, and the private patio offers a perfect place for a garden picnic.
Although we could easily remain cocooned in our heavenly haven for the entire stay, the abundance of onsite and nearby activities entices us out the door. As well as an inside pool, steam room and hot tub, there’s tennis, ping-pong, horseshoes, and bicycle rentals. And just steps away from Tigh-Na-Mara’s seascape perch, awaits one of the best beach boulevards this side of Georgia Strait.
Beyond, on the blue, skippers and guides provide ringside seats for live entertainment when porpoise, killer whales, and sea lions perform daily, free of any props or practice. Land lovers, on the other hand, may be lured to any one of the six championship golf courses, the many verdant parks, or the various year round cultural attractions waiting in Tigh-Na-Mara's backyard. With limited time to venture, a decision has to be made. Will it be shopping at the historical Coombs market, where the goats that graze on the rooftop attract more photo moments than most sunsets? Or how ‘bout the Old School House Arts Centre in nearby Qualicum Beach where we can watch artists hone their craft in various mediums? Local adventures like whale watching, cave spelunking, and hikes in the rainforest seem a little over zealous, and although wine tasting tours hold some allure, we have downed enough of the old bubbly over the past twenty four hours to sink a ship. In the end the decision is just about unanimous. With three horticultural hounds in our midst, we head for an afternoon at nearby Milner Gardens.
Although we’re unable to partake in this afternoon delight, we soon discover that other regal regimes wait for us back at Tigh-Na-Mara, for included in our PJ party package is a choice of either a signature facial or massage at the sensational Grotto Spa. SPA GROTTO
Two of our foursome opt for the signature massage where their pressure points are targeted and worldly cares melt under talented fingertips. After ninety minutes of incredible indulgence they claim restoration and renewal and stroll away in Zen-like states. The other two of us decide to pamper the area that seems to be most visible these days and go for a signature facial. With Marcela at the helm my pores are cleansed, exfoliated, massaged, masqued and conditioned. A specialized form of Chinese acupressure is blissfully delivered with a contour massage technique to revitalize my scalp and reposition my shoulders. After a heavenly hour and a half, do I feel like a new woman? You bet!
Tigh-Na-Mara Resort Jane freelances for a number of publications and is president of BC Association Of Travel Writers http://www.bctravelwriters.com. She can be contacted at janecassie@telus.net Photography by Jane Cassie |
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In spite of being an inseparable quartet
throughout our teens, the ties of friendship started to fray somewhere
between high school graduation and first time marriages. Although we’d
always made a pact to re-unite every Christmas for a communal hug and a
token Kodak moment, the increasing physical distances and family demands
eventually severed that promised pledge as well. The years passed, our kids
grew up, one husband was replaced, and life moved on. 
Gnarled arbutus trees and towering
Douglas firs flank the resort’s meandering roadways and canopy timbered
accommodations that scatter over its twenty two park-like acres. They
embrace authentic log cottages that snuggle up to a centrally located lodge,
edge the two tiered condos that flaunt an ocean view, and integrate around
divinely designed Forest studios and Woodland suites, one of which we end up
calling home. (At least for forty eight hours) 
It’s within these chic confines where we
also share and bare our souls over the next two days, and even though our
personal traits are varied, they seem to meld in symbiotic harmony. Barb is
like our surrogate Mom who keeps us organized and always on time. Shelley
possesses a creative flair and is able to freely express her emotions.
Lorraine is the philosopher, storyteller and most analytically minded of the
quartet, and I would surely be deemed ‘The Planner’ bringing along games and
songbooks that everyone (except Lorraine) balks at. As well as munching on
the provided popcorn and viewing video flicks we venture back to days gone
by and delve into those that lay ahead. Vintage high school yearbooks are
thumbed through, to bring back fleeting memories of long gone boyfriends and
cheery teen smiles. Terra cards are scuffled and shuffled, in hopes of
turning up the perfect future dreams. And romantic affirmations are declared
with the reading of Zodiac love signs. Are we compatible with our chosen
mates? Only the four of us will ever know. We talk from the heart till the
wee hours of the night, discussing everything from sexuality to
spirituality, and as the wine flows, so do gales of laughter and the
spilling of tears.
The sensuous sandy strip ripples beneath
our feet like corrugated cardboard and as we saunter a mile or so closer to
the sapphire chop, we dodge dozens of glistening tidal pools that are home
base to sea anemones. The cool spring air will soon transform into summer
warmth and captivate sandcastle aficionados and other young architects with
pails and shovels. Kyakers will strip off layers of neoprene as they paddle
their way to nearby islands. Skim boarders will glide, paddleboats will come
out of hibernation, and beach buffs will unite with other sun worshippers
who save a place in their heart for the seashore. 
Old growth cedars and lofty firs throw
shade over the twenty-eight hectare (70 acre) estate of tundra trails and
breathtaking botanicals. We ogle over lace-cape hydrangeas, poise in front
of vibrant rhododendrons, and breathe in the sweet scent of delicate
honeysuckle. At every turn there’s a bounty of blooms. They cloak the forest
floor, snuggle up to babbling brooks and blanket the knolled grasslands.
“Mrs. Milner had the innovative flair to cultivate rare breeds right along
side of those indigenous to the area,” shares our guide, as we saunter
beneath Japanese Maples and Spanish chestnuts that meld together like colours on a painter’s palette. Margaret Cadwaladr would be the one to know.
As well as being an informative host, she is the author and photographer of
‘In Veronica’s Garden’ an internationally awarded book, that is based on the
evolution of the estate. 
We also discover that the green-thumbed
Veronica was somewhat of an elitist and tended to prefer her plants to most
people. “She admired the rich and royal and had little time for anyone
else,” Cadwaladr states. “She was born and bred a British aristocrat,
widower to Desmond Fitzgerald, twenty-eighth Knight of Glin, and relative to
both Winston Churchill and Princess Diana.” Quite the line-up, indeed!
Photographs in the Milner home are
testaments to these connections. As well as Prince Philip and the Princess
of Wales, we check out clips of Queen Elizabeth during her visit in 1987.
The traditional teatime service is still carried out in the drawing room and
on the covered verandah, where clusters of wisteria frame the seaside vista
and distant coastal peaks. And while sipping out of fine bone china,
everyone is privy to a taste of Royal treatment.
The sixteen thousand square foot
sanctuary is firmly rooted amongst verdant stands of evergreens and once
across its timbered threshold, we feel as if we’ve been transported to a
virtual oasis. Slate tiles trail around the sensuous curves of the welcoming
boutique reception area where an emporium of acclaimed products are
displayed and hug up to etched windows that view pedicure patrons in
futuristic chaise lounges. They wind past the foyer’s trickling wall of
water and through luxurious washrooms to the granite-like grottos where our
aquatic adventure begins. A shimmering pool, rich with minerals all the way
from Hungary’s Savar Springs, boasts an exhilarating waterfall, an
invigorating cold shower drizzle and a pulsating bubbly hot tub. And while
reveling in these sensual delights, we feel our muscles relax, tension
release, and a sense of calm dominate our minds.
These splashing sensations are just a
preliminary work-up to more pampering that waits on the upper floor. Soft
muted earth tones mingle with new age strains, and a heady scent of
eucalyptus filters through to the fireside lounge. Herbal teas and a fruit
platter accompany our elevated view of the grotto pools and while relaxing
in rattan, our feet enjoy a salt scrub and a soak in serenity. Pools of
incandescent light dapple the neighboring hallways and sixteen
pleasure-pleasing rooms that offer a cornucopia of unrivalled delights. 
Revival and restoration seem to be the
key watchwords of our retreat to Tigh-Na-Mara. Not only do they pertain to
our general health and well being, but they also apply to the continued
nurturing of our deep-seeded fellowship. On the final night, we ditch the
idea of kitchen clean up and head for resort’s Cedar Room where the finest
West Coast fare is featured. Under the auspice of Chef Andrew Howarth and
his team of culinary experts, we dine on artistically presented selections
such as succulent salmon Wellington, curry tiger prawns, and Alaska King
crab. And while being ensconced by the warmth of wood and fireside charm, we
fill our glasses and raise them for one final toast. “Here’s to treasured
memories, long-lived friendships, and another weekend of soulful
sisterhood.”