Winter in Tofino. There are few places that I enjoy as much as the wet, west coast of Vancouver Island, where I can gaze out over the ocean’s blustery weather. In winter, under ominous clouds, the wind drives the ocean relentlessly against the shore, and I like to perch on a rock safely above the reach of the winter waves, feeling all thoughtful, happy, and melancholy at the same time.
I remember the first time I saw those waves. Waaaaay back, back in the 1990s, R (my gf at the time) and I made the four-hour trip from Vancouver over the island to Tofino to see the winter storms. A few miles before Tofino, on impulse, I pulled off the highway to a lookout point located at the top of the hill. It was one of many such rest stops along the highway.
At the top of the hill, at the end of a winding side road, we stopped, got out of the car, and stepped up onto a wooden platform. We were struck by an ocean breeze heavy with salt and seaside. The waves far below thundered against the rocks, and we zipped our rain jackets tighter against the driving rain. I wish I’d thought to have someone take a picture of us. But in a sense, I didn’t need to — I have the image burned into my memory. Unfortunately, it’s hard to get a good 8×10 from that.
Anyway, it wasn’t until three years later that I was able to return to Tofino, and this time I was with someone else. We impulsively packed our bags and hopped into my rusty little car. We were students, and couldn’t really afford a trip, but we needed to get away from it all.
On our second day there, we drove south from Tofino to see if we could find a place to park by the beach. I pulled off the road at a random exit, hoping for the best… and not recognizing the road to the lookout point. At the top, deja vu hit me like a wet salmon in the face. I parked, and climbed the familiar steps to the lookout platform.
Yes, it was the same spot I’d visited years before. Spatters of rain began to fall from ominous clouds, and I again breathed the salt air. For a moment, I felt as if I’d never left. But the moment passed, and I turned around to say something…
And there was R. My mind did it’s best to boggle its way out of the situation, but it was no use. It was impossible. R was standing there at the same lookout we had visited three years ago, and she was wearing exactly the same outfit. Only, this time she was with a new boyfriend.
More boggling. We were four hours from Vancouver, at a remote viewpoint on a remote highway on Vancouver Island, and in the off-season, no less. Who should I run into, but the very person I was last here with. Yet more boggling.
This, I thought, would be awkward. And the sheer impossibility of it would make it even more so. Impossible things involving ex-girlfriends are always so difficult to ignore politely.
Eventually, the boggling gave way to small talk amongst the four of us, and I managed extracted us from the surreal situation as best as I could. The drive back to town was silent.
Coincidence can’t explain things like that.