Solos of the Lams

Another week, another perfect summer's weekend. My time at Mercer had come to the end, so I celebrated in time-honoured fashion of drinks at the nearest pub to the office. Gratefully, I didn't spend a penny as I was treated to a great wind down with a great bunch of people. Mitsubishi and coal mining awaits.

My luck with weather continuing, the sun blazed down on David Lam park in Vancouver's trendy Yaletown for the second installment of the Vancouver International Jazz Festival. Before I even reached downtown on Saturday, my skin was reddening. Maybe it was in preparation for the Spanish celebrations in Euro 2008 the following day. I set up my spot on the vast grass seating area, and whiled away the hours with the solemn trumpets of Zapato Negro, the folksy trappings of Newfoundlander Duane Andrews, the offbeat and disappointing African vibe of Ezeadi Onukwulu, before dancing the night away with the fun beats of Five Alarm Funk. If that wasn't enough, I could retire to the Festival Hall just a few short steps away, and hear Billie Holliday's old protege 'Red' Holloway on his fantastic saxophone, with John Grisham picking up any slack in between, with intermittent visits to the ice cream stall, and fish 'n' chip stand also in order.

More of the same for Sunday, please. And granted. Today I was joined by Astrid, Anna, and at times Laura and her Quebecois friend. We moved around much more, sitting on steps that slid down into English Bay, with the waves licking our feet, and the sun kissing our necks. When the fire spray relieved itself of pressure water into our relaxed corner, we were treated to rainbows and even more celebratory mood from the crowds gathered for the jazz.

As the evening moved on into the night, the mood once again moved towards the Southern Americas, and the salsa rhythm danced through the melody of people. All races of humankind were gathered together, demonstrating the full power of the unity of music, and in true Vancouverite style, many were letting themselves go with the beats of the drums, the power of the trumpets, and the joy of the vocals. Splashes of red, yellow and blue were spread throughout the day, as cars tooted their horns to celebrate Spain's win. I was spending the day with two Germans. But football was unimportant. Today was too perfect to upset.