The year unfolded quietly, much like the one before it. 2018 was shaped less by long-distance travel and more by staying close to home, working, and letting life in Vancouver continue at its own pace. There were still moments away and trips that stood out, but they arrived as punctuation rather than the driving force of the year.
January began locally. Time was spent walking familiar streets and neighbourhoods, including long wanders through Mount Pleasant, taking in murals and side streets that felt increasingly known. Vancouver in winter has a way of turning inward, and those early months leaned into that rhythm. Work filled most weeks, and evenings often ended early, shaped by routine rather than restlessness.
April brought a short but meaningful change of scenery. A week in Banff for work offered a return to the mountains, crisp air, and dramatic landscapes that never quite lose their impact. The scale of the Rockies still felt grounding, even on a tight schedule, and the contrast with the coast made returning to Vancouver feel sharper and more deliberate.
Summer arrived gradually. July marked a longer road trip south, beginning with a return to Seattle and, for the first time, continuing on to Portland. The drive itself became part of the experience, forests thickening, towns thinning, and the coastline occasionally revealing itself before slipping away again.
Seattle felt familiar by this point, its visual closeness to Vancouver impossible to ignore. Pike Place Market and the Gum Wall made repeat appearances, while Gas Works Park stood out for the first time, its open view across Lake Union carrying a quiet, cinematic quality. Standing there, it was hard not to think of the paintball scene filmed on the hill for 10 Things I Hate About You, a small detail that added another layer to the place. A Seattle Mariners game added texture to the visit, and a slow afternoon under open sky felt distinctly American in its pacing.
Crossing into Oregon, the shift was subtle but noticeable. Portland revealed itself more slowly than expected. The city felt gentler, quieter, and less concerned with spectacle. Streets were leafy and relaxed, neighbourhoods blending into one another without clear edges. Time was spent wandering without much of a plan, moving between cafés, record stores, and long stretches of walking simply to get a feel for the place. Voodoo Doughnut was a brief curiosity, but it was the city’s overall pace that lingered. Portland felt lived-in rather than performed, a place comfortable with itself.
From there, the road pulled west toward the coast. The landscape opened up, trees giving way to air and water. Astoria arrived under grey skies, carrying a weight that felt distinct from anywhere else on the trip. Working docks, quiet streets, and the mouth of the Columbia River gave the town a sense of isolation and layered history. The Goonies Museum added a lighter note, but it was the mood of Astoria itself that stayed strongest, subdued, weathered, and reflective.
Cannon Beach came next. Haystack Rock stood firm against the tide, briefly framed by shifting light and low cloud before the road continued on. Even in passing, the coastline left a strong impression, the kind that stays with you long after you have moved on.
The return north passed back through Washington, including a stop near the state capital, before settling again into familiar ground. Vancouver welcomed the return without ceremony. Life resumed easily. Work, familiar cafés, evenings with friends, and the comfort of knowing where each day would begin and end.
October passed quietly, though a brief trip to Kelowna offered a small reset, vineyards and dry air providing contrast to the coast. Later that month, something unexpected cut through the routine. The Wiggles played an adults-only aftershow in Vancouver. It was strange, joyful, and surreal all at once, a reminder that not every memorable moment needs to make sense.
December brought its own markers. A Vancouver Giants game and the annual teddy bear toss added warmth to the darker days, the arena filling with noise, colour, and a sense of shared tradition. Shortly after, the year closed with a return to Australia over Christmas. Familiar places, family time, and summer heat provided a different rhythm entirely.
The journey back included a brief stopover in Los Angeles. A few hours at Venice Beach, catching up with a friend between flights, felt like a soft landing rather than a destination. Waves rolled in, people drifted past, and then it was time to move on again.
By the end of the year, 2018 stood out not for how far it stretched geographically, but for how contained it felt. A year of keeping things local, punctuated by moments away. Less about chasing movement, more about letting life happen where it already was.
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