Sunday 1 June 2008

Tired wolves and treetop adventures


I had been hoping to make it up to Whistler this weekend. Conor, Fran and Adam had said I could squeeze into their rental car as they moved up North for the summer. Alas, it was not meant to be. When they packed their possessions into their vehicle, there was no room for a small(ish) addition.

No problems, although all my pent-up excitement had to be spent somewhere else instead. I made a rush decision, and headed for Capilano Suspension Bridge. Tom and Astrid had already visited a few weeks ago, and had returned with glowing reports, so I thought it would be an adequate replacement.

It took four modes of transport, by land and sea, to finally arrive at the park, which was also well known for its Native influences. I caught the bus down to the Skytrain, which shipped me to downtown. There, I hopped on the SeaBus to North Vancouver, and then one more short bus ride finished the journey.

It was my first time on the SeaBus, which was amusingly named "The Burrard Beaver" (seeing as I have witnessed hookers on Burrard Street in downtown Vancouver). The journey over the Burrard inlet offered some great views looking back at the main city.



Once at Capilano, I had to use my pathetic blagging skills to convince the entrance clerk that I was a BC Resident. For once, I wasn't actually lying; but I had no proof of residency, didn't know my postal code and barely knew my address. Childish assurances on my part (like "I really am, honest!") seemed to do the trick, and I entered with a half price admission!

The Capilano Suspension Bridge Park had much more to it than I had anticipated. There were guides dressed in turn-of-the-century (20th, that is) attire, offering enthusiastic histories of the soil I was standing on. First, there was the colonial section, where I learned about adulterating Victorians, and wealthy prospectors.

Next, I met an aptly named member of a First Nations' tribe, John. He explained the way that Natives had come to give the park its name (Kia'palano, which means 'beautiful river'). He then educated us on 'story poles', more commonly named as Totem poles. There was one particularly interesting rendition depicted a fable of a tired wolf, and something and something (I admit, I can't remember what happened).

After Kia'palano, I experienced the main attraction, the bridge. It wasn't particularly terrifying, but it gave a great vantage point to see along the canyon, which it crossed. Many excited fathers rocked the bridge to the terror of their young children, and creaks were alarmingly loud in the centre of the structure. However, I have been assured that it can hold the weight of two jumbo jets.

The fun didn't stop at the other side of the bridge. Not only was I relieved I had made it with my life still intact, but I was amazed at how much more the park offered than I had expected! I strolled through the forest canopy on the 'Treetop Adventure' and walked along the Cliffhanger Walk.



After a couple of hours of exploration, I discovered that I needed to attain novelty stamps at all the sections, in order to get a Capilano Suspension Bridge Certificate! So I redid all the sections, and stamped my 'passport'. Some of the stamp stations were well hidden, and I imagined they were designed to test childish adults like myself.

In other news, I had my first Chinese takeaway in this, the most Chinese of all Canadian cities. It was exactly the same as Chinese meals I have had in England, to my dismay. At least it was half the price!

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