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?

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Picture a perfect Sunday afternoon. The sun is shining, the community is buzzing, the BBQ is flaming, the bands are playing, and there no work to do at all.

That is the Sunday I have just had in Vancouver. Perfect. Commercial Drive, the coolest, edgiest street in town, was holding a ‘Car-Free Festival’, where they closed off the roads, and replaced noisy cars with brilliant entertainment.

Every block there was a jazz band, country group, Latin dance group, Moroccan drums or Jamaican reggae. In between, there were stalls selling anything from headscarves to Indian Head Massages. Restaurants and cafés spilling out into the streets, offering grilled salmon, ‘smokies’, ice cream and fresh watermelon.

This year, the Car-Free Festival had spread from just Commercial Drive, to other areas of Vancouver, including Kitsilano and Main Street. Each location had its own style- and I visited Main Street later on in the day- but the Party on The Drive was head-and-shoulders above the others. In the park, as the reggae band floated out their relaxed and rhythmic Caribbean tunes, spectators laid back on the grass while others danced in front of the stage or took advantage of the hula-hoops laid out for people to use.

The added bonus was that we were enjoying our hottest day for a fortnight, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Laura (French), Astrid and Anna (Germans), Priscilla (Brazilian) and I (English- quite a mixture!) whiled away our afternoon on the Drive, enjoying the music, sights and sounds. Afterwards, Astrid and Laura made their excuses, so Priscilla, Anna and I headed over to UBC for some food and a drink. We found a nice pub near the University campus, where we sat out in the sun and enjoyed as much of the day as we could muster. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to end a great Sunday.

Sunday funday

When I came over to Canada, I had signed up to write a series of (bland, generic) diary entries for BUNAC, the student company who helped with my VISA, amongst other things. The main benefit of doing it, not least because I was getting some money for minimal work, is that it forces me to get out and do something in the two weeks between entries. I don't want to look like I'm just sitting on my arse and doing nothing!

Today was one such day, where I opened the increasingly battered pages of my Canada guidebook, and had a peruse at the different options open to me on this hot, perfect Sunday.

With 'Vankok' (or 'Hong Kouver') being up to 30% populated with inhabitants of Asian persuasion, I thought it was about time I paid a more in-depth visit to Chinatown. After touching base with home, using my brand-spanking new headset on Skype, I caught my usual 20 bus to the Skytrain, and then took the two stops to the Vancouver Canucks'stadium, not far from where I needed to go.

Walking towards the Dr. Sun Yat-sen Classical Garden, I noticed the change in architecture, with lampposts and bus-stops becoming red and oriental. Signs now included Han characters to signify the street names, and I had become a definite ethnic minority in this small area of downtown.

Before I made it to the garden, I stumbled across a park which included quaint stream. There were stylised stepping stones that were fun to walk across, climbing alongside the falling water that began at the top of a large slope, and resulted in a duck pond at the bottom. I spent a couple of minutes experimenting with the timer facility on my camera to try and capture the moment (see below), and it seemed to work quite well!

Once I reached the Chinese garden I paid the entry fee, accepted the positive comments about my t-shirt (not for the first time-thanks for giving it to me Sven!), and entered into a tiny haven in the metropolis.

The garden was split into four sections. There was a pond in the centre, which separated the more unkempt public side of the garden, and low walls, dotted with Ming Dynasty style windows boxed in the other areas. Gazebos offered great places to sit and relax, and a menagerie of horticulture native to China created a succulent aroma. It was all very relaxing.




In rooms of to the side of the main showpiece were an exhibition on bonsai trees, a typical writer's studio from the great days of the Orient (not Leyton- they never had any great days), and other assorted historical Chinese items. I spent a good hour and a half, strolling around the gardens, finding even more settings on my camera (macro-imagery, this time).

Once I had completed my tour of the gardens, I took a walk around Chinatown as a whole. It wasn't even nearly as desirable as the gardens were, so I quickly decided on another plan of action. The sun was still beating down on the West Coast, so I definitely wasn't returning home yet. I thought about where I could explore that wouldn't take up too much time and money.

I decided on Vanier Park, which is over the Burrard Bridge and into Kitsilano. It meant another couple of changed onto Skytrain and buses, but with every journey I take, my monthly transit pass becomes more value for money.





I arrived at the park around twenty minutes later. The main section of grassland in the park was taken up with the Vancouver Children's Festival. Amongst the clowns, bright colours and over-enthusiastic festival staff, I would usually be in my element. Today, I was in a calm, grown-up mood, so I steered well clear of all that.

There was Vancouver Museum, with a Space Section included. I took a look in the door, and was quickly put off by the price tag. I took a couple of pictures of the architecture and went on to the next sight. I had heard the Maritime Museum is quite extensive and interesting, so I opted to save that for a weekend in the future.

Instead, I was content with making my way along the beach and just admiring the fantastic views of the mountains, the city and the coast along Stanley Park. There are many places in Vancouver where you turn a corner, and you have to stop in your tracks and just admire what is in front of you.

By the time I arrived back at the apartment, I was spent. Even now, it is an effort keeping my eyes open and my brain concentrated for this entry.

Before I knock off for the night, and prepare myself for another week in the rat race, I must mention fete/market that I stumbled across yesterday. Coming back from a hard day of purchasing work shirts, my Skype headset and all my food for the week, I noticed something was going on at Britannia High School as the bus edged past. I could hear loud chatter, bagpipes and the smell of food was enough to make any person get off the bus there and then.

I had to drop of all my stuff at home first. I quickly hurried back to see what all the bustle was about. There was a small market, selling a host of homemade items, from brooches, to smoothies, to shiatsu massages. At the summit of the main hill, there was a group of musicians sitting in a circle, combining to make a vast mix of styles. They varied from folk, to some sort of reggae and then back again.



It had a real community feel to it, and I enjoyed browsing all the stalls. I have to admit, I am really enjoying the Commercial Drive atmosphere.

Peace at last

Approaching six months in Canada, my travels have now covered over 5000 miles, eight American states, seven different months, five Canadian provinces and two apartments.

Finally, the tally of apartments has increased to two. I moved into my Victoria Drive room on Wednesday night, and lapped up the mixture of double-bed, laptop desk, cable television and private kitchen. That first evening, I took a quick exploration trip along Commercial Drive.

I had heard of the road, which is notorious for its restaurants and friendly, edgy bars. But not many of the travellers (from the hostel I stayed in, anyway) make the trip out to see it. Strolling along the street, just browsing, and looking for the supermarket, I was excited to see the places I could be frequenting once I’m more settled into apartment life.

With the warm weather, balconies were buzzing with couples, groups of friends and rushing waitresses. Along the railings, blue and red fairy lights created a relaxed ambiance. This is a place I could get used to.

On Friday night, Conor (from SWAP and Sunderland University) and I took a stroll along 'The Drive', looking for some decent drinking houses. After a brief foray into an Irish pub near Commercial and Broadway, we ended up in the Libra Room, a classy, funky bar closer to my end of the street.

A three-piece band was set up next to the window, playing background jazz, minus any vocals. It created a fantastic atmosphere for the relatively small area. A pyramid behind the square bar to the back displayed the vast array of spirits on offer, and simple, lighted blocks of green, blue, yellow and red added some character to the wall.

We ended up staying for the remainder of the night, before I returned home to my gloriously comfortable pad. An early start for Microsoft Excel training at work the next morning wasn't the perfect requirement for my aching body. I made it, with tired eyes and dry lips, and learned a vast amount of knowledge which can come in handy for my savings plans that I need to think about today.

Yesterday, Jen arrived from Montreal, via Vermont and Seattle. In the evening she, Tom and I took a visit back to our favourite Granville Irish pub, the Lennox. I recall we spent most of the night talking about topics as random and diverse as 1980s cartoons, the Falklands war (which began in 1982. I was wrong, apologies to Tom. You win, you are the king etc. etc.), the Boston Red Sox and the 'Grouse Grind'.

Today I enjoyed my first lie-in for three weeks. The fact that my body had become attuned to rising before 9:00am was quite annoying but, out of stubbornness, I remained in my bed until 10:30am before emerging.

I am relishing this lazy day, and am determined to keep relishing it, with minimum action, until I go to see 'Ironman' at the cinema later. Ah, the relief.