Land Before Time

As I neared the end of my journey, tension was thick in the air. I had travelled for many minutes, over many miles (almost four) and passed many roadworks (three at most) to reach this place. Friends had come and gone (weirdos on the bus), and maybe trials had to be overcome (weirdos on the bus), but I was here. My re-enactment of "The Land Before Time" was almost complete.

The concrete wastes of Cambie Street, up towards Queen Elizabeth Park, had reflected the deathly sun into my eyes, and against my reddening skin. As I came over the crest of the hill, it was like a mirage before me. Gone were the grey streets of the city, and the weedy paths of the park. Now there was every colour imaginable in front of me. A waterfall trickled down the old quarry walls into the oasis of horticulture and greenery. Aging Indians (that's 'People of India', not First Nations) peppered the quaint paths and couples, flowery themselves with romance, held hands and strolled around the magnificent garden.

With 'The wee small hours' sounding blues from my iPod into my ears, I could have been Frank Sinatra in a 1950's talkie, strolling in slow motion around the park, on this most perfect of days.

After encapsulating as many plants as I could with my new found macro-photograph expertise, I had a look inside the Bloedel Conservatory, which overlooks the garden on Little Mountain, Vancouver's highest hill. Inside were a variety of tropical plants and birds, including Macaws. I was disappointed that they wouldn't say "Polly put the kettle on" or "Pieces of Eight" for me, but it wasn't through lack of effort!

Throughout the day, I was under the baking sun on this, the second proper summer weekend of the season. Today was no different, with the skies as blue as a baby's eyes and the sun as bright as the bleached snow-caps of Grouse and Cypress. I was content to don my 'thongs' (Andy should know about these by now) and flip-flop into town. I decided no harm could come of testing the walking distance from my apartment to downtown in these Mediterranean conditions, then sit myself in one of Vancouver's many parks.

Once again I soldiered through my Andrew Marr's My Trade which, although enlightening, has struggled to find a place into my routine during my travels in Canada. With the heat still sauntering through the streets of this West Coast city at six'o'clock, I was onto my second park, and still enjoying the fantastic weather. May it long continue.

Whale of a time *cough*

What a long weekend it was. From a rainy, muggy week at work to a fantastic, sun-bleached adventure into the Gulf Islands.

SWAP had managed to organise their best meet-up yet, whale watching. I have to admit it was breathtaking. Tom, Astrid and I caught the bus from downtown early Saturday morning, and made our way to Steveston Quay. It was quite amusing to hear the tour-bus driver commenting on the ancient buildings as we were taken through the quaint fishing town (which, at one point, housed the largest fishing fleet in North America). I was aware that I had lived in houses older than the buildings that we were being shown! History in North America is all a bit more modern, I have found.

Once we had boarded the boat, it took us two hours to actually get to the location of a sighted whale pod. We actually ventured into United States’ waters, down to the south point of San Juan Island. On the way, we passed California Sea Lions, a cormorant breeding colony, and majestic Bald Eagles, who glided overhead and perched on the rocky shore.

Actually reaching, and seeing, the whales was the icing on the cake. Many trips venture out and never manage to find the fantastic orcas, and we were still a little before whale season, so I kept my hopes purposefully lower.

Once we found the pod, they put on a show of tail whips, spy-dips (sticking their nose out of the water so they can see the surrounding area), and rolls. It was almost as if they were showing off for us.

It took us a while to locate the patriarch, Ruffles. He was slightly separated from the rest of his pod, and not as energetic as the younger whales. When we found him, it was straight away obvious that he was much bigger than the other orcas. His dorsal fin was huge, and he came very close to the boat to show it off.

After this fantastic experience, I went to Kitsilano Beach to take advantage of the scorching weather a bit more. I met up with some Maisie and Howard, and we braved the sea (well, paddled for a bit), and then found a nice terrace bar near the beach. This weekend has had the hottest weather of the year in Vancouver, and a local resident told me it was hotter than any weekend from last summer.


While the weather didn't manage to hold up for my extra day off on Monday, I still managed to enjoy myself. I met up with Conor, and we ended up having another fish and chips (my second of the weekend). A few pitchers of beer later, and we went for a different experience.

Conor's friend Adam told us about Hookah. We arrived at a Persian-themed bar, where you can drink herbal teas and, more importantly, sample the "calming" flavoured tobacco of the Middle East, through the use of bongs. It was quite eclectic, with the Arab music in the background, drinking our teas and inhaling the smoke. I enjoyed it actually, but doubt I'll ever need to go back!

Afterwards, we got some wine and headed back to Conor, Fran and Adam's house. We watched this ridiculous cartoon called Drawn Together. Post-smoking and drinking, it was fairly surreal watching this weird adult comedy that parodies reality TV shows!

I didn't enjoy the walk home in the early hours of the morning, or the limited sleep before work, but I'm still enjoying everything else. Next week, Whistler hopefully!

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.