Vancouver

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Not satisfied with their charity in allowing us to stay at their beautiful home on Bainbridge Island, our friend Gallon’s parents, Lisa and Garret, then offered us their 27th storey luxury apartment in Vancouver, Canada. It was pretty hard to refuse.

Now, while Vancouver is not a bad city, in the interest of being honest I feel obligated to say, our favourite part of the experience was staying in the apartment.

Being on the 27th floor it afforded an amazing view of the skyline of Vancouver and down to the ants below. Inside, more importantly, it was cosy and nicely furnished with a masseuse like steamy shower, a very modern kitchen (equipped with all the appliances you can think of) and wireless. Downstairs, on the first floor, there was a swimming pool, spa, sauna, squash courts and a Gym!

Heaven!

It was early January for the few days that we were in Vancouver. It may thus come as no surprise to you that it rained almost constantly. With it being so nice inside, why venture into such a nasty environment I ask you? Why trek around town in the rain feeling miserable? Why not play a game of squash, work out in the Gym, swim in the pool, have a delirious hot shower, surf the Internet, catch up on emails, read a book, journey to the local supermarket, cook up a feast then watch a DVD!

The honest to god truth is that, for most of the time, we did just that.

Now anyone having read this US journal of mine has probably concluded that many opportunities have been wasted (and possibly that I am a very boring person). There seems to be a lot of time spent lounging around with friends in their cosy homes and local establishments, drinking, eating, sleeping and talking. There is ample evidence that much of the remaining time has been spent reading, writing, watching movies and playing music. What about appreciating the full scope of the surroundings I here you say.

I agree. I am a terrible person. To take your mind of the fact though, here’s a story…

Back in the mid 1800’s a man by the name of ‘Gassy Jack’, so called because of his propensity to talk a lot (my sources make no reference to flatulence), opened a saloon in a small timber town, then in the very early stages of development. Due to the popularity of Gassy’s Saloon, the town, which was fast becoming a bustling (TREE KILLING! – excuse me) little place, came to be known as Gastown.

Unfortunately when Gastown became the western terminal for Canada’s first transcontinental railway (and isn’t that all very impressive) the town was renamed Vancouver after some explorer who I am sure stumbled, no doubt pompously, on the place once upon a time after using a magnetic pen while chartering his course with a compass (don’t believe otherwise).

So what about poor Gassy? He had won the hearts and minds of the (TREE KILLING) populous, had he not! Surely a publican who can lift the spirit of a community deserves credit.

Unfortunately the only consolation from this sad case of class-dominated nomenclature is that Gassy’s name lives on as an area in central Vancouver. It’s north of Chinatown and it’s called, as it was in the beginning, Gastown. It has a lot of cobbled streets and old brick buildings and I hear it’s very nice.

We didn’t go there of course.

We did do the following however:

- One evening we got a ferry from downtown across Burrard Inlet to North Vancouver where we had dinner at a Thai Restaurant before seeing a play at the local Theatre.

- On a relatively dry afternoon we visited Stanley Park, apparently one of the largest parks in Canada (which juts into Burrard Inlet from the north west of the city) where we walked for a few hours, passing under cute stone bridges and over quaint forest streams.

- On a Monday evening, thinking Vancouver would be a full of culture all week through we headed out in search of some live music. Unfortunately we got lost and looked in the wrong part of town. There, there were live music bars, but only those that have music on the weekend. They were opened though, so we had a beer.

- We headed to the University District on one occasion, expecting to find cool bars and alternative culture. We were disappointed to find very little of anything that truly grabbed us. In the aftermath of this disappointment we headed to an area nearby to hear some poetry. The establishment in which this poetry was to be performed was situated in a seedy looking part of town so we bought what looked like some vanilla and chocolate baby food (which was cheap) and headed back to our salubrious apartment.