We met up with Jeni and boarded the 70 towards Victoria. Jeni had taken the 73 to the terminal and had relayed to us how complicated the route had been. Apparently, there were a lot of turns and back roads involved and this had lengthened her trip thirty minutes from the expected hour. Luckily, we were now on the proper bus.
After a quick transfer onto the 14 - where Jeni, ever a tour guide, would mention and point out the spot where Krissy experienced her first real kiss-we were headed to the Nice's humble abode.
It's a damn good thing that Jeni came to meet us because I hadn't been there before. Well, once about eight years ago but my memory isn't quite that strong.
We visited with Lisa and Krissy, given beverages and joked around a bit before faced with the inevitable question. "So, what's the plan?"
Lisa laughed because she saw the trouble we would inevitably have when mixing three personalities like ours. Me, the laid back 'go with the flow' type. Jeni, the strict planner with numerous schedules at the ready. Lyzz, the impulsive planner equipped with all the excitement a new city can offer.
In truth, I was the only one with an idea of where to eat but foolishly worried it wasn't acceptable. No matter, any destination was better than none at all.
Two bus transfers later and we were there. I had frequented The Bent Mast a few years ago and was astonished to see how much it had changed in so little time. The city had added a liquor store and quite a few more artsy shops than I had remembered. It always seems like development happens elsewhere rather than right under your nose, when in truth, it's pervasive.
We entered the haunted pub at our own risk. Lyzz and I shared a picture of Chocolate Porter and Jeni drank a few rum and cokes. The beer was thick and rich with hops, in my novice opinion. Truly delicious!
We ordered a quesadilla , veggie burger, and spicy chicken sandwich and scarfed it all down. Those yam fries didn't see it coming.
Afterwards we chatted with the waitress about the latest haunted happenings. She told us how the house once housed prostitutes as a brothel and drug addicts as a half way house. It's no wonder why evidence of lingering spirits were about. Lyzz asked, "Have you seen anything?" The waitress denied having seen anything personally but described, in vivid detail, how creepy and uneasy the basement had left her. She couldn't allow us to go downstairs because of house policy and mentioned how the most recent owner had recently passed on and he might not approve of broken rules on his property. And as a token of intrigue she offered us the bathroom upstairs. I had once been in that room and I described to the girls how filled with a presence I had been. I remember feeling as though someone were watching me the entire time. I could almost feel their breath at my back. It shook me thoroughly. Lyzz excitedly went upstairs but returned disappointed. "It's just a room." she stated. So I ventured up the creaky stairs and discovered that they had closed off the room where I had once been and replaced it with a rather un-extraordinarily drab washroom at the end of the hall. Lyzz was certainly right. This room lacked either soul or spirit. I tried the door of the room I had once acquainted myself with but the lock wouldn't budge. It was probably for the best though because some things are better left unseen. Still thoroughly anxious I returned back to our group.
We couldn't stay long. The next destination awaited us.
Onward ho!