Jimmy K and Whare going native
Our camp ground in Penticton was pretty average but with a cool bag, some ice, beers and wine, Nicole was in her voyeuristic element. The extended family across from us were quite funny to observe. They were possibly Hispanic or “First Nation” and when the young “Dad” (maybe our age) and the old (late 60’s) granddad – who was white, quite old looking with his jeans, sneakers and bum bag – moved into their food tent (a big mosquito net around a park bench) and proceeded to smoke a joint we were quite enthralled. The kids (from about 8 up to maybe 14) loitered around outside and didn’t pay much attention to the pot smoking Dad and Granddad.
A bit later we observed the Dad wondering around for about an hour with a phone book while the kids biked around and the girls/ladies chilled out on an airbed. When going to the washroom (toilet), I saw the Dad using a payphone and then half an hour later about 8 pizzas turned up. The young kids were still running around when it was getting pretty dark and when I got up the next morning the blokes had all slept outside and the ladies had sleep in the tent. About an hour later their Van door slid open and out rolled Granddad and his little dog. They kept us entertained anyway.
After cooking up some bacon sandwiches and a cuppa tea we packed up and blew that joint. We hung at the beach for a while and then went to a cool café for coffee and a snack, before hitting the road south to Osoyoos.
With a description from the guide saying – “Anything but upscale, Osoyoos is a good and affordable base for exploring the region” – Osoyoos sounded like a bogans ideal holiday spot to me.
Osoyoos Lake divides and surrounds the small town (pop 4,800 which triples in peak summer) and we found it quite ironic that the skies opened up with a solid hail storm as we drove into Canada’s only desert. This is the arid end of the Okanagan Valley and the town marks the northern end of Mexico’s Sonoran Desert. At the First Nations Desert Centre we managed to see a calliope hummingbird (the smallest bird in Canada) but were unfortunate (or fortunate depending on your perspective) to not see any rattlesnakes (in the wild). The US border cuts through Osoyoos Lake. Nicole wasn’t keen to join me on the 5km swim across the border, or to accompany me on a mission up to the hills behind the camp ground where the search light on the border fence sweeps the landscape.
The girl at the information centre told us that all the campgrounds in the vicinity were full. Taking her advice with a grain of salt I swung our Mazad3 into a wicked campground on the lakeside and pleaded with the manager that surely he must have room for our tiny 2 man tent…. to no avail. We ended up on the other side of the lake in a weird but quaint little camp ground that used to be a water park – “Water Park and slide permanently out of order” said the sign. Our elevated campsite had a good view over the lake and we drank the last two cold beers from our new cool bag (thanks Wallmart) before setting up camp. After dinner and a few wines we embarked on a “short” post dinner walk. Nicole conveniently led us straight to the dodgiest pub in town which turned out to be very entertaining. All I can say is “only in North America” and I’m glad I had Nicole there to deter possible encounters with the ladies on the prowl.
Tags: desert, hummingbird, Mexico’s Sonoran Desert, Okanagan Valley, Osoyoos, Osoyoos Lake, Penticton, rattlesnakes, US border
