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| A Woman's Directory For Travel and Life. WAVE Journey is your one stop online resource for women oriented businesses and services around the world. WAVE Journey is for every woman to enjoy. If you love to travel, cook, garden, read or revel in outdoor activities this website is for you. If you are looking to connect with other like-minded women or if you are interested in finding businesses or services that cater to women, WAVE Journey is your number one online resource. |
| WAVE Journey |
| Women's Adventures, Vacations & Experiences ~ Your Journey Starts Here! |
My masseuse, Erolina dispels all such
morbid thoughts. She pampers me
with their Pacific Body Balancing
Treatment —an experience that’s
worth every cent of the $190 cost.
Gritty exfoliation paste, then hot
towels and several layers of warm
wraps enfold me like a chrysalis.
morbid thoughts. She pampers me
with their Pacific Body Balancing
Treatment —an experience that’s
worth every cent of the $190 cost.
Gritty exfoliation paste, then hot
towels and several layers of warm
wraps enfold me like a chrysalis.
tension slipping away. And my skin is rose petal soft and smooth. Almost like it used to
be fifty years ago, as a fresh young teenager. Now if only I could metamorphose into a
slender butterfly again…but of course, even the best of spas aren’t into the miracle
manufacturing business.
Then bath-robed again, and feeling a bit like a tubby polar bear, I am joined by Phyllis,
similarly bath-robed, at the Spa’s Treetop Tapas restaurant to enjoy a selection of
miniscule tapas that look deceptively dainty, but are rich and amazingly filling. Over an
hour later, having worked our way through tuna bathed in pickled ginger jam & wasabi
ice-cream, caramelized, tequila infused prawns and scallops, Valencian paella chicken,
artichokes, sweet paprika and saffron, and several more items—the menu is the length
of my arm—we stagger out replete.
be fifty years ago, as a fresh young teenager. Now if only I could metamorphose into a
slender butterfly again…but of course, even the best of spas aren’t into the miracle
manufacturing business.
Then bath-robed again, and feeling a bit like a tubby polar bear, I am joined by Phyllis,
similarly bath-robed, at the Spa’s Treetop Tapas restaurant to enjoy a selection of
miniscule tapas that look deceptively dainty, but are rich and amazingly filling. Over an
hour later, having worked our way through tuna bathed in pickled ginger jam & wasabi
ice-cream, caramelized, tequila infused prawns and scallops, Valencian paella chicken,
artichokes, sweet paprika and saffron, and several more items—the menu is the length
of my arm—we stagger out replete.
We are curious about the oft touted
beaches in Parksville, so next morning
the two of us walk from the resort to
nearby Rathtrevor. The air is brisk and
from the thicket of evergreens framing
the shore, a cuckoo cheerfully heralds
the arrival of spring. We sit for a few
moments on a gnarled old tree trunk
and contemplate the a shafts of pale
sunlight piercing the light mist lying
over the water. The curve of the beach
is strewn with driftwood and in the
brown sludge left behind by a
retreating tide, seagulls fight over
breakfast.
beaches in Parksville, so next morning
the two of us walk from the resort to
nearby Rathtrevor. The air is brisk and
from the thicket of evergreens framing
the shore, a cuckoo cheerfully heralds
the arrival of spring. We sit for a few
moments on a gnarled old tree trunk
and contemplate the a shafts of pale
sunlight piercing the light mist lying
over the water. The curve of the beach
is strewn with driftwood and in the
brown sludge left behind by a
retreating tide, seagulls fight over
breakfast.
The long sandy stretch of Qualicum
beach isn’t buzzing with activity this
early in the year. We drive the
waterfront, past small restaurants,
park the car to take photographs, and
watch a mum and her toddler
investigate the gravelly foreshore
searching perhaps for shells or sand
dollar starfish. Above us, raucous
gulls swoop and screech as they circle
the bay.
beach isn’t buzzing with activity this
early in the year. We drive the
waterfront, past small restaurants,
park the car to take photographs, and
watch a mum and her toddler
investigate the gravelly foreshore
searching perhaps for shells or sand
dollar starfish. Above us, raucous
gulls swoop and screech as they circle
the bay.
Next stop Coombs. And the famed
“Goats on the Roof” Old Country Market. The roof is still turf covered, but there is no