Because I got high (Vancouver)

Yes my patient reader I have been missing in action. A combination of jetlag and spending time with Dan has overtaken me. The cure is to condense all Vancouver days into one entry. Ambitious? Maybe, but I'll try.

The title today? Afroman from the year 2000. Not something you would associate with Van? Perhaps not. I was talking to a friend recently who had blogged about the Sydney-Melbourne rivalry. Having lived in both cities, she said Melbourne was the winner. I suggested that Sydney was the party boy you want to go out with and Melbourne was the responsible boy you marry. In that case Van is the quiet friend in the group: supportive, dependable, you're totally comfortable with them and then they pleasantly surprise you.

Vancouver just feels relaxed and it has this instant calming effect despite the excitement of seeing Dan and meeting Danaka in real time and not on Messenger. There is nothing quite like being able to hug someone, to feel their strength, their warmth, their love. Hug time over, we headed for the car park and downtown Van. The journey took about 45 minutes (actually, I have no idea since I wasn't paying attention) and the traffic was nothing to comment on. We drove through some interesting areas with massive houses, shielded by equally massive hedges - all very British (Columbia that is). It's a pity they drive on the wrong side of the road, but I won't have to face that for a few days.

Despite all of our travel delays and arriving at the hotel after 4pm, our room wasn't ready. Complimentary drinks in the bar contributed to the chilled feeling. That or exhaustion. After a round of drinks, we eventually got into the room, unpacked, showered and settled in. How good is a hot shower after nearly 30 hours in transit? Just magic. The suite is a nice size with a sofa bed and separate bedroom, which is a good thing because Dan is staying with us on Sunday night. We are on the 20th floor but there isn't much of a view due to the heavy smoke haze. That is also the reason there are not a lot of pictures.

Vancouver is a working port - look at the sulphur pile in the background.

Re-energised, it was time to meet Dan for dinner. We wandered up Robson Street toward Zefferelli's, an Italian restaurant with very good reviews. It had a good menu with some interesting specials and a great wine list. We watched a few dinners go past to other tables - they were enormous, so we decided to share a pizza for entree. Even then the mains were difficult to finish and the leftovers were bagged for later.

It was time for sleep, sleep and more sleep. Aside from an hour staring at the ceiling, I slept for almost 12 hours and could have stayed in bed, but it was Jayne's birthday and we had things to do.

Dan and Danaka picked us up at 11:30 and we went over Stanley Park and wandered around. They have a series of totem poles that originated in different parts of BC, reminders of the original occupants of the land. Then we walked along the boardwalk towards the sculpture of the Girl in a Wetsuit - a remarkably astute, if unoriginal name (see the picture above). On the way, Dan rescued a fish that a careless fisherman had caught and not quite returned to the water. One of the tourists near the totems, a young man, had the pinkest, fairy floss coloured hair I've ever seen. Gave Cait a run for her money!









Then it was off to Danaka's parents' place for a lovely lunch. Danaka picked some blueberries and wild strawberries from the garden which were so sweet. In keeping with the Vancouver vibe, we had a wonderfully relaxed afternoon on the patio and celebrated Jayne's birthday with the most delightfully decadent cake. Diva the dog, was guarding the backyard while we enjoyed lunch and saved us from a black squirrel that bounded along the fence top to safety.

Fairy floss anyone?

After Danaka was deposited safely at the airport to head off to a 3 day conference, we returned to the hotel and sat around talking to Dan. Messenger is great but it is no substitute for reality. The hours just swept by and suddenly it was 8pm and we hadn't really thought about dinner. After discussion, it was decided that Earl's would be an easy option, so we walked down to Yaletown and dined there. The young waiter wanted to be our bestie, North American style, and enquired if we wanted to know the story of the building. A potted history followed with a reference that included the statement, 'after the war'. "Which war?" Jayne enquired? Off-script, no idea, the last war this waiter was aware of was the Coca-Cola v Pepsi-Cola war. Perhaps not, he was very young, maybe it was the Taylor Swift - Katy Perry war.

The following morning we walked for breakfast to a cafe that we had seen on the previous night's walk. Good coffee, nice atmosphere. Then it was time to go for a meander along the river's edge to burn some time before Dan had to board the bus back to Whistler. The smoke was lower today and that made it seem thicker; visibility was quite poor. It was still a pleasant walk along the river bank and on a sunny day it would have been a beautiful.

One of the more surprising things about Vancouver is the marijuana laws. Not only is recreational use legal, its distribution is controlled by the government. Whatever you think, decriminalising drugs and the state controlling the distribution has to contribute to minimising the power of organised crime. So, weed shops are common place and, as we walked past one today, a guy (and his dog) step out of the doorway straight into us. "Oh sorry guys," he says, "I must have had one puff too many." He laughs, "No, just joking." Hence today's title. He continued to apologise as we wandered off into the distance.

Canadians really are the nicest people in the world. We paused on our walk to Granville Island today and didn't even have the map unfolded before a passer-by stopped to offer assistance. Then while having a quiet beer on the island we watched a man taking a photo of his family. One of the locals got up from the table and walked over to him, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned him to join his family. He hands her his phone and moves to stand with them. Phone in hand the woman turns and bolts in the other direction. Nah, just joking. She takes the photo and passes the camera back. Smiles all round.

Granville Island is an arts and culture precinct. There are lots of galleries and performance spaces, fresh produce markets, restaurants and cafes and the ubiquitous souvenir shops. I purchased a spoon for a good friend who loves her spoon collection. You know who you are, be patient, you'll have a new spoon for your collection soon. We walked to the Island from Downtown through some of the less salubrious areas of Van - Granville Street has some interesting sections. It was supposed to take 45 minutes but we knocked it off in around half an hour. The Island was crowded with drifts of people moving through the buildings, there were many tour buses.

The cement factory on Granville Island nicely disguised by artwork.

It was almost time for our lunch time beer, which has become somewhat of a tradition for us when we are exploring on our holidays. Curious behaviour really, as we rarely drink beer at home. Jayne spied an establishment offering a beer and fish and chips for $14. Bargain. Inside we went and discussed the merits of sitting inside or out in the courtyard that overlooked the river. Jayne went outside to see if it was too cold. After all, it was breezy and the tables were in shade. "No, it's OK," she said. "Let's eat outside." As I sat down she was putting her hoodie on. "Glad I brought this," she says. "I wished I had brought one too," I thought and froze for the next hour or so. Lunch was good and we got to people watch. Our favourite holiday activity.

While there are pretty parks scattered along the river bank, the architecture beyond it has a familiarity to it. I have always believed that in Sydney we have not valued our heritage (I'm talking about buildings since white settlement; sadly Indigenous history is treated with even more disdain) and have been a tad hasty in removing buildings in the name of progress. Or we totally surround them with new homes and shroud what once was or hide it almost completely from view. Campbelltown Council did an awesome job of this, selling off land for housing and dwarfing beautiful 1800s Georgian houses behind McMansions.

Well it appears that Van is way ahead of us. The high rise looks as if it has been designed by the same architect and built by the one company. Everything is pale, all the glass has that green tinge and there seems to be little variation - except through the gardens at ground level. Any building that is different really stands out, like a pimple on a pumpkin, as Jayne would say. There was one set of heritage buildings that we stumbled across - three of them on a corner surrounded by serious high rise. The future is important, but it is difficult to understand where you are going if you can't see where you've been.

The question for the day: why do people from some parts of Europe think it is OK to walk around in  bike-riding lycra gear, including shoes with cleats? As a cyclist my response is it's ok to wear lycra at a coffee shop if your bike is within reach. After that, not OK. It's the same conundrum in Sydney: how far is too far from the beach to wear your swimming costumes in public? Serious, first world problems dear reader.

And that's a wrap from Van. Tomorrow we are catching the ferry to Victoria on Vancouver Island. When I reflect on Van I will remember the seagulls. Like all the northern hemisphere gulls that I have seen, they are massive, compared to Australian silver gulls. They appear to be solitary as well and I have woken to them in the morning wheeling across the sky, crying that plaintive, sad call, echoing off the buildings. I will also remember the cars.  I have never seen so many late models Porsches, Bentleys and Ferraris outside of a showroom. Finally, I will remember that chill vibe, artificially induced or otherwise.