Canada Day 2: Welcome to Soho Camp, where we serve lobster, oysters and unlimited Bacardi!

Day 2: Friday, September 2, 2022

Camp Tamakwa's little gift shop

I wake up somewhat refreshed after my nearly eight-hour sleep at the Clarence Park Hostel. I make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the free hostel breakfast, check out of the hostel, stow my luggage in the hostel closet and head off. Today is the first day of Soho Camp!

First, I went to Bulk Barn, a chain of bulk shops, which I sought out for some camping snacks. This place is AWESOME. I have been to bulk stores in Chicago, and I have seen the bulk section of Whole Foods, but this was on another level. A full shop dedicated to bulk: snacks, flours, candy, sprinkles/baking supplies, nut butters, pie fillings, dog food, and more. Nearly five full aisles of a massive variety of items. I specifically marked this as a place I wanted to explore while in Canada, so I packed my silicon zipper bags and brought them here for filling. I decided on some trail mix and chocolate covered blueberries. I wish these existed in Chicago, at this scale and convenience of locale.

in love with Bulk Barn

 

I wander into a couple shops before returning to the hostel. I'm now hungry for lunch and the decision of what to eat leaves me paralyzed, until I narrow it down to meat. I grab my bags and head off toward Soho House Toronto, which is where we get on the bus to head to the camp.

Along the way, I got pulled pork poutine at Smoke's Poutinerie, a fast food chain of poutine restaurants. I chow on the "snack size" which is still a sizable portion: a chinese takeout box, filled with french fries, cheese curds and chipotle pulled pork. I finish half before deciding it is wise to stop before I regret it, and unfortunately toss the rest. The downside to travel is the food waste I encounter time and time again, with nowhere to store fresh food when I'm hopping place to place. 

Smoke's Poutinerie

I walk a couple blocks over the Soho House Toronto, where people have started to gather for the camping trip. As I mentioned in a previous post, this is a camping trip organized by Soho House Toronto, but is available to any Soho member worldwide. I can tell some people know each other, and I wonder if any are from out of town, like me. Their Soho house is in the Bishop's Building, a 4 story mansion that looks about 100 years old.

The interior is beautiful, as are all the Soho Houses. The old rustic charm of this particular house shows itself in the vintage floor tiles, reclaimed wooden walls, and gorgeous banisters leading up to the upper floors. The floors creak and the wallpaper hearkens back to an 1800s era without feeling outdated. Near the restrooms is a photo booth, where I take some photos before rejoining the group downstairs.

We load up the bus and are presented with a light lunch of a chicken sandwich and salad in a box for the road. And a signature Soho chocolate chip cookie. I love a good bonus food…originally the only meal planned for today's part of the camping trip was dinner. I don't regret my pork poutine, though I do save my sandwich for later.

a little car snack

On the bus, the Soho staff pass out the meals, followed by special diet meals. Someone across the aisle to me is allergic to kale, and if that is not the most Soho House description of a person, I don't know what is.

Tito, another Soho House staff member, walks up and down the aisle with a small orange vape pen. He perkily asks, "strawberry mango vape? Did someone leave their strawberry mango vape? Vape pen, found at the house…strawberry mango vape?" How very Canada.

Before we depart, Beverley takes attendance, and shows a little nervousness in her voice as she says "if you invited any non-members, are they here? I hope they are, because we don't have their names and we are leaving now and we aren't coming back." Ha.

The idea of 3 hours of sitting is glorious to me after yesterday, but not to the guys sitting in front of me, who are constantly checking traffic and the bus route, planning alternatives. I have never thought about this while on a bus ride somewhere; I just assume we are making progress. Meanwhile, I'm chilling, just sitting and eating my butter lettuce salad with chipotle dressing, as I gaze out the window at a fox eating roadkill on the side of the road.

we rerouted to avoid this traffic mess

 

I awaken from a post-lunch nap to find we have arrived at camp! We unload the bus, and I follow the group down a small gravel road down a hill to…a dock. We are getting on a boat! The camp is just around the bend. A few people start freaking out upon seeing the dock, "I was not told there would be a boat."

the boat to take us to camp

It's the first of a flood of a trillion Peace Corps memories that the weekend brings. Loading up our luggage in the front of the boat is just like hopping on the boat from Nguna to Port Vila with Papa Jeffrey, although, safety precautions are much more strongly enforced. Here at Camp Tamakwa, there isn't a lifejacket-less child sitting on the bow of the boat, and here we ALL have to wear life jackets.

Peace Corps life jacket life, December 2019

Soho life jacket life, September 2022

 

The boat needs to make a few trips to accommodate the bus load of people, but when it arrives, WHAT an arrival it is.

pulling up to Camp Tamakwa, with the canoes on the left and swimming area on the right

 

We drop our bags for camp staff to place in the cabins, and head up the hill to find a large opening in front of the cafeteria building. There is a massive fire pit lined with three tiers of bleacher seating. In front of the cafeteria is a table covered in smoked salmon, charcuterie, fruit cups, snack bars, yogurt and trays of veggies. I am so full that I can't bear to look at it; I just had breakfast and TWO lunches.

"light" snacks upon arrival

Next to the snack table, there is a canoe propped up to waist height, filled with ice and about 100 Peroni beers, Bacardi Mojito and Piña Colada cocktails-in-a-can as well as Ace vodka seltzer drinks. On the ground beside it is a cooler filled with CANN sparkling juices infused with THC and CBD. Just past this setup is a ping pong table with buckets of boxed alkaline water, either plain, hibiscus or strawberry rose flavored. And just past THAT is a little camper trailer that has a bar inside, where two bartenders have an open bar featuring vodka, tequila, and Bacardi, as well as signature Soho House drinks, like their spicy margarita, the "Picante."

the drink/bar trailer to the left, and the stage to the right

All of this, accompanied by a DJ set up on a wooden platform overlooking the lake, who is spinning upbeat club music. It's a party.

We socialize, snack, drink and enjoy the view. I meet some people and find out that this group of about 80 of us is mostly from Toronto, and I am one of just a small handful from elsewhere. I meet a couple who is also from Chicago, Ashlyn and Joseph, who only recently joined Soho.

The entire time I am preventing myself from overindulging since there has been no clarity of what is happening tonight. It is only 5pm…are we going to be ziplining later? You have to tell me before shoving unlimited Bacardi in my face! And thus triggers the next Peace Corps memory, of not knowing what is happening at most moments, and wishing you had a simple itinerary to guide your way through the day.

The answer never comes, unfortunately, and we just hang out, gaze at the picturesque beauty of the tree-lined lake until we are told we can go to our cabins to change/rest for about 40 mins before meeting back at this fire pit area for some announcements.

A British camp counselor leads us to our cabin, which is called Opalescent. We walk up the wooden steps, over some rocks, to our home for the weekend. Originally I imagined us as camping in 18 person cabins, but only seven of us will be in Opalescent, and it is roomy enough for us to have an empty bed between each of us. I also imagined bunk beds but these were beds lining each side, like the Madeline books. Someone makes a comment about the bed not being super comfy…I touch it and realize it's the same type of 4 inch mattress I slept on from 2017 to 2020 in, you guessed it, the Peace Corps. I'm used to chronic back pain and I'm ready for it.

seven little beds in two straight lines

 

Our cabin has a balcony, which Soho has equipped with a little rug, some jute throw pillows, a plant, and a basket with a fleece blanket. Caroline, a cabin mate, says they are "creating a vibe."

Inside the cabin is a pyramid of drinks: boxed water in three flavors (strawberry rose, hibiscus and plain), two bottles of rosé (without a bottle opener), and two boxes of the same CANN sparkling juices I saw in the cooler earlier.

drinks in the cabin

Beside each bed are two swag bags. One is from Lululemon and contains a small zipper bag filled with the brand new Soho Skin skincare line, as well as a Lululemon yoga mat, yoga brick, and water bottle. The other bag is labeled Roots, and I ask what that means. Everyone in the cabin (except Caroline) is from Toronto, and they explain that Roots is a very well known athleisure brand. Inside the bag is some sort of aromatherapy rollerball and a pair of sweatpants. Not just any sweatpants...$84 CAD sweatpants, to be exact.

swag bags

I unload my stuff onto the empty bed beside mine, change into my new sweatpants and some warmer cozy clothes, and return to the main firepit area with a new friend from the cabin, Chara. I think it is important to note that of the seven people in the cabin, we had a Chara, Carri, and two Carolines. It made it both very easy and very difficult to remember names.

Where the snack table once was is now a dinner buffet. Dinner is no less than a surf and turf feast: oysters, shrimp, roasted chicken, steak, lobster, grilled salmon, grilled mushrooms, zucchini, bell peppers and corn, as well as a massive salad.

a surf-n-turf feast

 

Chara and I fill up our plates and sit at the outdoor picnic tables. After filling up, the camping staff clears our plates. Even the simple act of camping staff acting as waitstaff feels fancy; I am used to clearing my own plates in a camp setting. Shortly after eating, we are told it is time for announcements.

On our way to the fire pit, Caroline stops me and shows me a photo on her phone. It's the pile of snacks I left on the spare bed when we unpacked. "Is this yours? When I was in the cabin earlier, a squirrel was all up in there. I tried to shoo him away and he was like 'go ahead…try me. What are you gonna do? Clap at me? I'll just keep on snacking.' This guy had NO REMORSE." Of course this made me want to bolt back to the cabin to package everything up properly. As soon as I look around to see if I can make a quick trip to the cabin, the camp director, Leslie, starts making announcements around the campfire. Operation Squirrel will have to wait. I grab a piece of cake from the dessert platter and join the group.

Leslie welcomes us and gives us a brief history of the camp before diving into rules. All the rules are as you would expect: no swimming at night, no using watercraft (canoes, kayaks, SUP boards etc) without a life jacket, no starting fires or smoking inside the cabins, and so forth. He also mentions to avoid bringing food in the cabins. I think about how the squirrel in our cabin is getting an additional 20 minutes of feasting and inviting all his squirrel friends over for snacks in our cabin. I am annoyed because Soho House told us to pack snacks, so I ran that errand this morning and spent $13 that I clearly didn't need to, since we are constantly fed luxurious snacks and meals at every turn. Oh, and because I didn't want squirrels as roommates.

Leslie goes on to tell us about the critters of camp, including the four raccoons that frequent the trash cans. He tells us not to name them or pet them, as cute as they may seem. He tells us we won't see bears or snakes in the camp, and there are minimal mosquitos since the heat of the summer is fading.

After he wraps up, Patricia from Soho makes an announcement about tomorrow: it is full of activities, and we can line up right now to sign up, since some have limited time slots. Operation Squirrel is unfortunately taking the back burner yet again as I am anxious to get signed up for everything I wanted to do.

The theme of chaos continues, as we form one massive line, but as we get to the front, we find two Soho staff, Kiara and Beverley, sitting with clipboards, writing names down for each activity. In the email prior to this trip, they listed about five activities without descriptions, so as we were signing up, we also had to ask what each activity actually entailed, leading to each person taking at least a couple minutes to choose activities. After all, how is someone supposed to know what "Rose Aura" is without asking (in case you were wondering, it is photos of your aura using special technology)?

The unfortunate result of this sign up mess was that many activities were scheduled at the same times, which we each found out as we were choosing our activities. If it were me in charge, I would have had an agenda/activity description ready for each person so we could all determine this prior to signups. With the current system, it was like lining up at a food vendor and seeing the menu only as you step up to order.

long line for activity signups, with the DJ booth in the back, against the trees

Anyways, I signed up for an 8am workout blending yoga, dance and pilates, as well as a 10am canoe trip, a 12pm spin class, a 2pm candlemaking class, and a 3pm bartending tutorial. I also had to ask when breakfast and lunch were, since I wasn't sure if I would make it in time, depending on the duration of the activities, which was also information we didn't yet have. CHAOS.

After signing up, I bolted straight to the cabin for Operation Squirrel. It was now after dark, and as I opened the door to the cabin with my flashlight, I was welcomed by a handful of mice chowing down on my silicon zipper bag, which now had a golfball-sized hole at the bottom. Inside the trail mix were two mice just rolling around like Scrooge McDuck in his pile of money. As I approached, all but one scurried away, but then they immediately returned to their feast as I looked on.

As you would imagine, this triggered yet another Peace Corps flashback, to my constant battle with rats until I got my cat Kalmataku. Those rats were relentless and frankly obnoxious with how they would find a way to make the biggest mess: chewing holes all over my makeup bag, for example, or one single tiny hole in a full bottle of cooking oil, resulting in a one-liter puddle of cooking oil on the floor of my kitchen.

But this was a small hole in an unfortunately expensive silicon bag that I was okay to part with. It was a single battle over a weekend, not a six-month waking nightmare until I moved houses in Vanuatu. I shooed the mice away, packed up all the food and zipped it up in my luggage, and took my food back to the main camp office for a tupperware. In Vanuatu, I ate ant-infested peanut butter, and skimmed the mold off of maple syrup before pouring it on my weevil-infested-flour pancakes. Some nuts that were temporarily housed where some innocent forest mice decided to roll around were more than salvageable, in my opinion. I share with the staff the reason for my low gross-out tolerance: Peace Corps. The Camp Tamakwa staff don't bat an eye at me taking fistfuls of forest critter snacks to save for later consumption. See? They get it. After silently damning the person who told us to bring snacks on this trip and spend money I didn't have to, I returned to the cabin to stow the container away. Hey, at least they didn't get into the chocolate covered blueberries!

glow-in-the-dark beer pong

When I return to the fire pit area to socialize, I see a hopping party, soundtracked by our resident DJ for the weekend. In the covered pavilion, there are blacklights illuminating beer pong tables featuring glowing neon cups. The canoe filled with canned drinks is never empty, and the drinks from the camper van are freely flowing.

trailer/bar is open all night

Around 11pm, food, or rather, munchies are served: platters of Soho House's Dirty Burgers (similar to an In and Out burger) and Vegan Burgers are placed on a table outside, along with bowls of condiments. They're quickly scooped up by the crowd, despite our recent meal. Just remember that cannabis is federally legal here.

midnight munchies

I eat about half of one before I give up and silently reprimand myself for wasting food and toss it in the trash. Immediately, a raccoon triumphantly emerges from the waste bin with his newfound half-burger, scurrying off to some unknown spot to chow down. Another memory of Peace Corps pops into my head: the late-night activity of animal and critter amusements, and I stare at the raccoons -- all four of them– scurrying in and out of the trash to hoard as many half eaten burgers as possible. It was just like watching my cats feast on dead mice on the island of Nguna; you almost feel a sense of pride in their accomplishments.

A woman walks past the trash before realizing there are raccoons a few feet away from her and she jumps out of her skin. "Oh my god, I didn't see these raccoons over here! Well, at least they aren't Toronto raccoons." Her male friend furrows his eyebrows and responds, "Um, raccoons are raccoons." True.

raccoons feasting from the trash

 

I stay until the Soho staff tell the DJ that quiet hours are in effect and the music needs to lower (around midnight). I head back to the cabin and hang out with Caroline on our balcony overlooking the lake and almost tear up at seeing stars again. It was an emotional evacuation from Peace Corps in 2020, and one of the first things I missed upon my return to the states was being able to see the milky way every night. Here, it was crystal clear, and I felt a warm sense of comfort that I had missed for the last two years.

I settle into bed, and that's when the sleepless night begins.

At this point, we are all in bed, and we each start hearing or feeling the mice infestation. Caroline hears one scurry across the rafters before it plops on her bed. She flicks her sheet, launching it against the wall, where it slides down, gets back up and repeats the process before giving up.

Another person in the cabin screams as she hears one run across the floor in the dark, and again when she goes to the bathroom and sees one escape through the floorboards.

I get up to use the toilet and see a mouse lapping up some standing water in the shower, but I don't flinch. He stays out of my business as I finish mine and return to bed.

I remember that rats in Vanuatu were easily deterred by peppermint oil, so I take some out of my toiletry bag and sprinkle it along the left and top side of my bed. About 10 minutes later, I feel the cold and prickly paws of a tiny mouse on the right side of my neck, and I jolt up and feel it drag through my hair before disappearing in the dark. I grab the peppermint oil and drip a protective circle around me, on the right and bottom of the bed.

But no, at some point later, I feel the recently familiar cold and prickly paws of a mouse on the left side of my neck before I jump and it escapes. Ok, now I am grossed out. At least the rat in my Vanuatu home only nibbled on my toe ONCE through my mosquito net, before he took the courtesy of terrorizing me from afar. These Tamakwa mice were too close for comfort.

I ended up pulling my sheets over my head completely, tucking them under my armpits and over my head, creating an impenetrable fabric barrier. Leslie said there were no mosquitos right now, but he doesn't understand the multi purpose benefit of a good ole tucked-in mosquito net.

At some other point I feel a tug on the right side of my head tent, knowing that it is yet another mouse trying to get in. I start wishing I was a weird girl who brought cat hair in a ziploc bag to rub against my bed, or that each cabin had a resident cat, or each bed had a mosquito net, or that Soho didn't tell us to bring snacks, or a plethora of solutions that couldn't be enacted at this point.

As I try to think of anything nut that set of cold prickly paws, my mind wanders to all of the Vanuatu memories from today:

• The dimly lit bare bulbs illuminating the cabin, like the ones in my vanuatu home.
• The disorganization of it all, and news spread via a game of telephone, much like our annual Peace Corps trainings
• Walking around in the dark with my bright headlamp, reminded of my friend Rina and her super bright flashlight she would shine on people she saw on the beach, out of pure nosiness.
• The moonlight reflected on the water, and how my friend Anita would say "save your batteries, the moon is bright tonight"
• Drifting asleep to the sound of water lapping against the shore and boat motors whirring to and from the dock.

Eventually I fall asleep in my fabric cocoon, ready for a jam-packed day full of activities tomorrow.