White Rock Blues

The weather during spring break did my head in and I really needed to get out of the city. We headed south to the seaside town of White Rock for some fresh air and seafood. I love spotting herons and red-tailed hawks looking for easy prey on the flat soggy delta flats . We saw pairs of courting crows and raptors in leafless trees in stark relief against the grey skies. Once we'd arrived in White Rock we wound our way down to Marine Drive and scoped out the place with the most promising signage. (I'm a sucker for a blackboard.)



Inside Charlie Don't Surf, we huddled in a chilly, over-decorated atmosphere that reminded me of gloomy days spent in British seaside towns that seem to specialize in that particular brand of gloom-tinged coziness.



The food was fine. I liked the spicy deep-fried calamari and my well-dressed beet and spinach salad. The service was absolutely awful, with a narcissistic waitress who didn't bother to veil her absolute distaste for our table. We basically had to flag down other waitresses to do her job while she sulked and straightened cutlery at empty tables.


This is a new place opening up next door to Charlie Don't Surf.

I love the little museum across the street from the restaurant, with its one-room diorama of how the railway station looked in days gone by. It also has an excellent tidal pool aquarium and some taxidermy of local fauna.


We tried to find a quaint little shopping area in the centre of town and failed. Perhaps there are hidden delights to be found here on a warmer sunnier day.