4. Pictionary, Peninsula Sunsets, & *that* Platypus

Thursday. Day 8.

The girls woke up with that unmistakable energy of “I love you but if you breathe near me one more time I will unleash my inner Hulk.” Eight straight days of sisterhood had reached its natural conclusion.

So like any seasoned parent, I immediately went hunting for the highest-octane energy zapper available within a 50 km radius.

Flying Squirrel trampoline park.

Even better? It is conveniently located beside Driftwood Brewery.

Uncle Luc and I looked at each other and silently acknowledged our shared genius. Children get bounce bounce. Adults get beer beer.

We loaded everyone into the car and headed down the Malahat.

Outside: breezy.

Halfway down the highway… well, maybe aggressively breezy…

By the time we hit Victoria: full major weather event.

We marched into Driftwood for our strategic pre-trampoline beer… only to be greeted with the words …

“The power’s out.”

Closed.

Apparently BC Hydro had been wrestling with a downed line for hours and was not winning.

Plan A: FML.

So we pivoted. Plan B: downtown Victoria and the wharf… It was a brisk, wind-slapped version of a stroll. We admired boats and harbour views in abbreviated bursts between violent wind attacks before they had enough.

And then, because tradition is tradition, we hit A&W… don’t judge us the teen burger is on sale for $4.99 and I wouldn’t mind if Evelyn gained a few pounds this week…

And finally, we texted Mitch to meet us at: The Victoria Butterfly Garden.

So we looped through the Butterfly Garden. A compact indoor rainforest situation. Warm. Humid. Green on green on green. Mostly butterflies drifting like animated petals… but also a few supporting characters: lizards doing slow-motion pushups, a turtle living his best life, and a flamingo who was basically one thousand years old.

The parrots? I don’t like the way they looked at me.

Evelyn stepped inside, took one full breath of humid jungle air, and immediately declared:

“This place is terrifying. I hate it.”

Butterflies fluttered “too near” her face.

Another one swooped by.

And then she questioned why does it smell like jungle ass in here? To which we responded this was a natural organic rainforest smell…

Evelyn was unimpressed. She was one flap away from filing a formal complaint.

Meanwhile, Claire had already vanished.

I found her in the middle of the garden, gripping two small trees with both hands and vigorously shaking them like some tiny King Kong attempting to initiate a monsoon. Leaves trembled. Butterflies scattered.

Honestly I was surprised she was still wearing clothing at that point.

She locked eyes with me, laughed wickedly, and bolted.

And I mean bolted.

I legitimately lost her in a tropical micro-ecosystem for a minute. Just me, sprinting through mist and foliage while parrots judged from above.

When I finally caught up to Claire after a few laps around the winding path, I noticed her energy shift. Head lowered. Quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I made a friend,” Claire said. “A butterfly. But I lost her.”

Suddenly this was not chaos. This was heartbreak.

So we began the search.

Black and white butterfly. Delicate wings. Somewhere in the canopy of 500 nearly identical black and white butterflies.

We scanned leaves. Flowers. Branches. Eventually we located one that met the description. Was it the exact same butterfly? Impossible to say. But Claire was satisfied.

She leaned in close for her final conversation. Mostly well wishes, from what I gathered.

“Did you tell her your name?” I asked.

“Oh, we know each other’s names.”

“And what are they?”

“Can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Secret.”

Fair enough.

Time to go.

“Where next?” Luc asked.

Well.

Technically speaking… there is a winery next door…

And we did miss out on our brewery plan…

But who is counting.

One very refined flight of wine tasting later — and one sushi dinner that tested the boundaries of Evelyn’s adventurism, we were back in the car.

Up the Malahat we climbed, sleepy moss on either side, ocean fading into dark below us.

We pulled into the driveway for our final overnight at Chez Braemar — the unofficial headquarters of this entire adventure — knowing the week was winding down but leaving our hearts very, very full. 💕

Friday. Day 9.

We packed up from Chez Braemar, said goodbye to our trip HQ, and made our final Malahat descent of the trip.

We landed at Lori’s BnB suite for our final two nights, unpacked just enough to feel settled, and then reunited with Hillary and Adam for what was clearly shaping up to be a mega cousin sleepover weekend.

Wine was poured. Stories were shared. The volume rose (mostly due to the kids). It felt like the kind of gathering that only happens when family lives far apart and finally converges.

Then we hit the highway toward Victoria for our evening event: an escape room.

Hillary had booked us into an “Ancient Egypt” sarcophagus pyramid scenario. Three rooms. Hidden clues. Pattern locks. Hieroglyphic mysteries.

Evelyn and Claire became Official Lantern Bearers, darting between adults, shining beams 2 feet off the ground, whispering, “What about THIS?”

Meanwhile, something awakened in me.

Pattern recognition.

Anxiety-fueled need to work fast.

Mitch and I began tearing through those puzzles with unsettling efficiency. If there was a code, we were decoding it.

To be clear, everyone helped equally.

But it was deeply entertaining to observe the different strategic approaches.

Women thoughtfully circling back: “Maybe there was something to those items in the first room…”

Yes. Yes there was.

Some of the men, meanwhile, occasionally testing the structural integrity of ancient Egypt:

“What if we just… do this harder?”

Somehow, through collaboration, brilliance, and mild overthinking, we escaped in 21 minutes.

Twenty-one.

We had up to an hour.

We emerged into the lobby slightly stunned and extremely smug.

From there, we wandered downtown Victoria (with a brief Olde Candy Shoppe stop) and headed to The Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner, where I finally met all the spouses of all the cousins. The table stretched long. The laughter louder. Plates of pasta everywhere.

It was so fun!! The kind of night where you look around and think: this is it. This is the good stuff.

And a 21-minute escape room victory that will absolutely be referenced for years.

Saturday. Day 10. Final day.

The girls and I woke up knowing it was the last full one, which always adds a little glow and a little ache at the same time. We all missed home, daddy, and Emma .. and the cats .. but we also felt that “why don’t we live closer to these people we love so much” ache.

Hillary took us down to the yacht club to scout potential wedding photo locations for her 2027 nuptials. We walked the breakwater, admired the boats, evaluated angles and backdrops like a highly unqualified but deeply enthusiastic planning committee. Ocean behind. Mountains in the distance. Light bouncing off the water. The girls ran the perimeter and ultimately gave it their seal of approval, which I believe is now legally binding.

From there we made our way into downtown Sidney and, of course, stopped at Sidney Bakery. Meeting up with Uncle Luc and Mitch again, because no Island visit is complete without carbs and cousins. After two meat pies (gravy, beef), one brioche cinnamon bun, one curry chicken pocket, one veggie samosa, and two sprinkle cookies, we wandered the piers and walking paths, soaking up coastal sunshine, watching lizards sunbathing on rocks, breathing in salt air like we could pack it in our luggage. (Note: claire tried to, along with the driftwood and rock collection that somehow put our luggage several KG above weight).

The girls picked out their own headband buffs with a proper BC vibe — small souvenirs that somehow feel bigger than magnets or postcards. Something they can wear and remember.

The afternoon found us at the playground, children sprinting, adults debating a very important question: are margaritas appropriate for a Saturday afternoon park hang? The jury was divided, but brown bags were considered.

We wrapped the day back at Lori’s with wine, margaritas, burgers, and cake. The party was full. The alcohol content higher. That end-of-trip energy where no one wants to acknowledge tomorrow.

Adam, Will, Mitch, and I did discover that we are all signed up to run half-marathons on the same day on May 24, just in different parts of the country! So we have endeavoured to cheer each other on.

And then came Pictionary and charades.

Mitch delivered what can only be described as the greatest platypus impression in recorded history. Hat. Creepy arm motions. Egg-laying dramatics. Full commitment. On the floor. It was art.

And somehow, despite having escaped an ancient Egyptian pyramid in 21 minutes, none of us guessed it…

Apparently we spent all of our brain power on the escape room and had nothing left for poisonous aquatic mammals!

This trip was incredible—for time with my girls, our BC family, and with nature.

We are on our way home to Ottawa now with deeper connections… and so much love in our hearts.

I am so glad my girls are able to be surrounded by the love I enjoyed growing up, both by their parents and also extended family.