Hitchhiking in Nanaimo

Disclaimer: BC Ferries and Camping and RVing in BC sponsored our travels.

We walked along the shoulder of road and Peter stuck his thumb out. The second or maybe third car pulled over, and picked all three of us up. “Going in to town?” the driver asked, and when we said yes, he told us to climb in. We thanked him for the lift and he told us about the pinks, the salmon that are running right now. He waved one hand out over the estuary. “Lots of fishing going on right now… I’ll drop you down by the harbor if that’s all right.” It was, it was better than all right, we had missed the bus and probably would have skipped the wait, picked up some groceries, and wandered back to our campsite had it not been for his kindness.

Nanaimo is a cute town. There are a lot of little cafes that look perfect for just hanging out, there’s a couple of nice pubs, some arts buildings… there’s the old part of town that has more cute shops, more cute galleries, more cute, period. On a recommendation, we fell into the Old City Station Pub for pints and an early dinner. The food was surprisingly delicious, the pints tall and hey, it was happy hour so some people might have had more than one. The place was empty when we arrived, too early for the Saturday night life but not too early for the kitchen, and it filled — German tourists, a foursome we’re sure came from the RV park, and a couple of local boys wearing their Saturday night best. A plethora of TV screens showed vintage hockey clips, live rugby,pro wrestling, and some kind of crime drama. The music, a scratched up 80s hits compilation. It was perfect.

It seemed impossible to hitch back to the campground, so we opted to take the bus instead. We rode with a handful of teenagers out to the shopping center south of town. A curly haired chubby boy made the rounds between the girls, making jokes, working the room, almost, laughing with the girls and acting cool with the boys. We got off just before the end of the line and walked back up the hill, past a barking junkyard dog, past big rig and after big rig, past camp fires and folding chairs and rolled out awnings and trailers with decks and there it was, our giant silver box, sitting on the site, a toaster with wheels, our home for the night.