By my calculations, on June 30, tourist season officially hit the Sunshine Coast.
I noticed it first when looking out my office window at a long line of cars, trucks and campers, topped with kayaks and canoes, backed up at one of the few traffic lights in Sechelt. Traffic itself is a good sign tourist season has arrived, but there was more.
While life on the Coast moves at a slower pace than the "big city" I find tourists tend to move even slower. It's not the kind of lethargic shuffle that I have each morning before my first cup of coffee, rather a carefree saunter. It's the slow stride of a person with no worries, no responsibilities and the time to take in the beauty of their surroundings. While all of us who live here know of the incredible beauty around us, we don't really take it in the same way tourists do. I suppose we did once, and we do at times still, but that amazement at the landscape takes a backseat to getting to work, running errands or picking up the kids from daycare.
If the traffic and tourist pace aren't enough to convince you tourist season has arrived, you need simply visit the grocery store, mall or your favourite coffee shop.
On June 30, I went into Claytons to pick up some veggies for a stir-fry, and I recognized only one other shopper. I stopped by Starbucks and knew only the cashier. And I visited the dollar store and smiled at a child in the toy aisle, only to have the small boy whisked away by a mother uncomfortable with the attention.
Had this been any day outside tourist season, I would have said hello to at least 10 people I recognized in Claytons and probably had a conversation with someone while selecting a cabbage. I would have joked with acquaintances sipping lattés while in line at Starbucks. And the attention I gave the little boy at the dollar store would have ended in a conversation with the mom about little Johnny's love of bubbles and dinosaurs.
The summer brings such an influx of people to our coastline, you're bound to see a dozen people you don't know before you find a familiar face. And while tourists walk with a slow stride, often they drive their vehicles like race car drivers on crack. Our single-lane highway seems to boggle the mind of some tourists who think the shoulder is actually a passing lane.
They slow us down or run us off the road, rub their relaxation in our faces, and don't take the time to talk. At least that's one side of the tourism coin. The other is much more pleasant.
Tourists bring diversity to our towns and give us the chance to show off our culture, creativity and Coastal charm.
Tourists bring with them much-needed dollars to help keep our small businesses in the black. A good tourist season can keep a business on the Coast afloat the rest of the year.
Tourists remind us to slow down and take in the beauty around us. It's hard not to stop and enjoy the sunset when a gaggle of visitors are clicking cameras, pointing and sighing at the sight.
Tourists can also become neighbours. Many of us Coasters were once tourists who knew in our hearts we were home as soon as we stepped off the ferry. That's how it was for my husband and me 12 years ago when we first visited the Coast. Now I can't imagine living anywhere else.
So welcome, tourists. I hope you'll learn to drive our one-lane highway, shop in our stores, stop to talk with our residents and perhaps pick up a real estate guide while you're here. You might just find you're home.
