Just getting to Ucluelet - the larger of the two villages that bookend the peninsula - had been a mini-adventure, passing through old-growth forest with the attendant anti-forestry campaigners, and driving our lovely hire car. "Did you book that on the Internet?" asked the helpful woman at the Avis desk in Nanaimo. "I’ve never seen a rate so low for this car!" So it had been with a certain smugness that we had meandered across the island on Highway 4, the Pacific Rim Highway, and found ourselves some four hours later at The Junction, as it aggrandizes itself. The Junction was not what I had been expecting. I had imagined that more would have been made of this spot. Turn left for Ucluelet, turn right for the more popular town of Tofino, and a drive through the natural beauty of the Long Beach section of the Pacific Rim National Park. All the travel info mentioned "The Junction", but as we slowed down to approach it we saw that it was, in fact, a junction. Much like any other. And we were turning left.

The decision to spurn Tofino for the more homely charms of Ucluelet had been based on my trawl for accommodation. The area is rich in Bed and Breakfasts - in the North American style of family homes that welcome you in, rather than the British style of formica-clad rooms wallpapered with rules and regulations. To my utter astonishment we had got into our first choice B&B, which was just outside Ucluelet. The holiday season was definitely coming to a close.

So, we turned left and gratefully spotted the turn to Fletcher’s Cove. Throwing up a little more gravel than was probably the norm, we pulled up and rang the bell. "Ah, the Turtons", exclaimed Dennis - our host for the next few days. Cue the embarassed laugh, "Er, well, um, I'm the Turton, and, er, she isn't." "Ok, well, whatever, in you come. The wife and I are off to a wedding reception so we've got to leave soon, but I will just sort you out". Dennis - an athletic man with a ready smile and a shock of white hair - was exactly the sort of Canadian host you wanted. Friendly but not intrusive, helpful without being bossy and charming without being ingratiating. We had done well.

The house, set in its own gardens, looks out over the cove to Mount Ozzard, the 2,200 foot peak topped with a radar station. It is tranquil and idyllic and everything that the website had promised. There were even salmon leaping in the cove. Did it get any better than this?

Yes, yes it did. We were unexpectedly given the best room in the house; no complaints from our end. We had a gorgeous large room with windows looking onto the garden at one side, and onto the cove on the other. This was the life.

The hot tub was full with the other guests and we were anxious to make the most of the fading sunlight, so we hurriedly drove to Wickaninnish Beach, the first of the major stretches of beach inside the national park. Strolling onto the sand for the first time was truly awesome. No big surf, no crashing breakers. Just ocean. Lots of ocean. We took a few photos before the light went completely and then headed back into Ucluelet with an eye to get something to eat.

Ucluelet occupies the southern tip of the peninsula. I had seen street plans of it, I had read about it, I had even seen a few photos. Yet rarely have my expectations of a place been so far off. We drove in, past the petrol station and the turn off to the Canadian Princess resort ship. A few buildings were scattered by the side of the road, including a school. Then some houses, and bang. We were out of Ucluelet. That was it. A slight sinking feeling started. OK, we had come here for the scenery, we had Vancouver for nightlife, but even so. Having proved conclusively that there was no more - by driving until the road stopped near a large cliff - we headed back and parked. And, following one of Dennis' suggestions, had a great meal. Blueberries restaurant was small, but the Asian-influenced menu was interesting, and not all seafood (rare in these parts).

We asked the waitress what there was to do in the evenings. She laughed, "Not much! There's the pub I guess, that gets busy later" (busy being a relative term here). "And the Canadian Princess resort is having its last night party - so that should be busy too." Hang on, back-up there. "Last night party?" "Yeah, it closes for the season tonight". Oh great. It was September 21st.