As the car crashes into yet another pothole in the winding track through the deep forest, someone asks the question that’s on everyone’s mind – “are you sure we’re on the right road?”  

“Um – I think so,” replies our trusty navigator. 

Then, what a relief! We round a tight bend and spot a building – then another – then another. 

Unfortunately, our feeling of hope is quickly dashed as we realise we’ve stumbled into a hidden gypsy camp. (Ok, so there’s no guys in loose white shirts and tight black pants fighting with knives or riding bareback races on wild horses, but we still get that unmistakeable feeling we’re not welcome here.)

As we make our escape through a narrow gap between one of the ‘dwellings’ and a derelict school bus, we catch a glimpse of another track running parallel to the one we’re on.  And – beside that track is a small sign – “12881–>”.  

“That’s it we cry. That’s our B&B!”

Sure enough, after a few more hair-raising minutes following the new track down a slope that would scare a mountain goat, we reach a small cluster of civilised homes – and encounter for the first time the breathtaking beauty of the Sunshine Coast, British Columbia.

In no time we’re out of the car and dragging our assorted luggage down the (more or less) paved path towards our lodging. We can’t believe our eyes when we spot holiday homes of the (nearly) rich and famous scattered amongst the hills that border ‘Gunboat Bay’.

 “How did you manage to find a place like this on our budget?” we ask our designated Director of Getaway Research and Accommodation Booking.

“Well …”, she says slowly, “… there’s no TV.”

We unanimously respond that, with views like this, we can happily forego such worldly distractions.

“And … there’s a guy living above us … we only have the downstairs unit.”

Again, we agree that’s not really a big issue.

“And … one of the showers doesn’t work.”

Ohhh – Kaaay ….

“And … um … well … there’s … um … well … there’s Arsenic in the water supply to the house.”

We stand silent for a moment. 

We look at the view. 

We look again. 

Ok, no worries, we’ll just buy some bottled water somewhere. Besides, how bad can a bit of Arsenic be anyway, eh?

As we walk away, she whispers under her breath – “and the coffee maker isn’t quite a ‘coffee maker’ in the real sense of the word.” Luckily none of us heard that one – it may just have been the deal breaker.