Astrid shoots off, the Drive and Richmond

With my new job now meaning I get up at 6:30 every morning, I'm finding it harder and harder to drag myself to the gym, or to fulfil a decent escapade every weekend. I leave it down to events to make sure I get out of the house, as opposed to lounging around the apartment catching up on sleep.

So this Friday I went to the Richmond Night Market, very much Chinatown's big brother. It was more impressive, but still filled with tat and worthless plastic oddities. So we stayed in the food area for the most part, drinking bubble teas, eating chow-mien and shrimps, and chomping on corn (Chinese?) straight from the cob, complete with large leaves. I wasn't impressed with the market, I never have been. It's hardly a cultural marvel. It's more Milwall than Great Wall. Shouting stall owners, cheap mobile phone covers, 'designer' gear, necklaces that turn green when you wash. Not too much to look at. But the company was good. I enjoy spending time with the Germans, and I wasn't careful of what I wished for.

Because two days later, I was overrun with Germans! No, I'm not complaining, apart from the fact that it was a celebration of Astrid leaving. She's the last survivor of the group that I met when I first got to Vancouver, and now, plus Erik, she is off to Whitehorse and Alaska in a camper van.

We hit The Drive on Sunday afternoon, into the evening. We had a great meal in the eclectic, South American oasis of 'Havana', drinking cider and light beers. I felt every inch in Cuba, with the faux-aged walls, Castro on the wall and a group of young revolutionaries, fresh from Europe, drinking to Astrid's health. The meal was good, the drink was better, the company was the best. I often find Germans to be the most friendly and comfortable people I have met, both from Berlin, through acquaintance, and of course, my family.

Inevitably, after a couple of glasses of wine, us Europeans were talking politics, past wars, and why we all hate each other so much. All in good nature, of course, but we're not wrong! In Europe, every country has fought with the next, and we all hate the French (sorry Damien!). I don't think the Canadians grasped our sarcasm, as they have never seemed to grasp that aspect. The banter between the Aussies and us Brits seems to fly over most of the North American heads I come across.

We all laughed, and drank (like Europeans, not British), and enjoyed the evening sun. It was a shame that this is probably the last time I will see Astrid, (apart from fleetingly as I give her the damned pictures she keeps moaning about!) until hopefully in the coming months and years where I take advantage of her close proximity to Munich, and the mountains!

I was home before it was too late, but I still suffered today. Alcohol always means a light sleep, and an early rise, for me. I was awake at 5.30am, which gave me an hour to kill before I officially had to rise! I hate those mornings, when I am clamoring for an extra ten minutes sleep, but my eyes don't want to shut - until mid-afternoon.

So I didn't go to the gym. I postponed it for a day. But I ate well (salad, again!), and drank plenty of water, and now I'll soak. Thoroughly deserved, no?