Time to be The Tourist

Vancouver may have been a break from the norm but I was determined not to leave here without seeing some of the sights, and so it was that Anne and I set about a 10KM walk to take in as much as possible!

I'd so nearly stumbled upon an area of Vancouver I was best away from had it not been for Anne, even in a somewhat intoxicated state, steering me away from the danger zone I was unwittingly about to enter. Our late night stroll so nearly going horrible wrong. Hopefully now it was time to see a better side of Vancouver!

Its a strange feeling being guided around, I wasn't used to it. I always had in my head places I wanted to see or things I wanted to do. Maps would be out and I'd be out with a purpose. Here it was different. I had no idea what I wanted to see, or where I was even going, I was simply following someone else. The brain work left at home for once. I was a nice feeling but somewhat unnerving.

I was visiting sights I had seen pictures of before, my parents having visited the area only a year previous. English Bay Beach looked nothing like I had imagined, maybe it was the bad weather but as beaches go a disappointment, yet it had its own sense of the tranquil.


Stanley Park our backdrop as we passed the famed Inukchuk, an Inuit marker for safety, hope and friendship. Its symbol is currently being used in the logo for the Winter Olympic Games to be held in Vancouver in 2010.


We passed important bridges and navigated our way through the park winding up with an impressive view of the Vancouver skyline, the reward for completing the lengthy walk. I'd also managed to spot Darth Bear a little earlier in town too, a warm feeling of completion waved over me.






It certainly wan all Vancouver had to offer, it was however, a great overview and a chance to finally take a few snaps of the place. I left Vancouver with a smile on my face, knowing I had far from seen it all, hoping one day I might return.

Have a break - Have a Kittie Cat (or 3)

A break from the norm is always good especially when it comes in the hospitality of a friend. In Vancouver I had traded the hostel bunk bed for a couch,a glorious, homely couch my new home for the next 4 nights.

I'd been greeted by open arms and a big hug as a departed the greyhound
service, Anne was evidently still waiting for me despite the delays in
getting there and a breakdown in communication between the two of us.
We scooted off to catch just one more bus before walking up to the
house.

Its certainly a strange feeling to be in a house again. The life of the dorm room becomes ingrained in you, a part of you and now I was, albeit briefly, being returned to some semblance of normality. I met the housemates and, it would seem, more importantly, I met the cats.

Three of them. The names escape me but their presence would not. Awakening
from my first nights sleep, I found not one but all 3 cats had found
their resting place for the night on top of me. Claws tugging at the
blanket and me, cat hair all over me, it was, to say the least, novel!
Each morning I would wake to find at least 2 of them sleeping atop me. Including the strangest cat of all time.



Most cats, in fact I'd go as far as to say all cats I have ever known, Care
for themselves. They preen, they clean and they make sure they look
good. That it had always seemed to me, was the way of the cat. Here in
Vancouver though I had found the exception. A cat with dreds. He didn't clean, he didn't preen, he just looked, and trying to put this nicely, unkempt. You just prayed that he wasn't the one lying an inch from your face in the morning!

I found my whole pattern of daily life change while I
was here. The usual routine seemed to just go without any second
though. I had suddenly shed a great deal of my travel roots, I become
the guest, the friend and the hosted. I wasn't thinking constantly about
where I was going to go, what I was going to see, how I was going to
get there. In fact my brain seemed to just switch off, for the first time in so long someone else was doing the thinking for me!

The results, of course, were completely different to the way I would have done things had I been here on my own. In fact, it wasn't until my final day that my camera actually came out. It really shouldn't have been though as that first night we headed down to the beach and witnessed one of the most glorious sunsets I've ever seen. I reached for my camera, normally ever present to find an empty pocket. I know I would have had that one me if I hadn't
felt so safe leaving it at the house. I would have to make do with the
memory and memory alone of such a beautiful sky. I wont forget it, I
just wish I could share it.

Continuing in the vain my stay here had become accustomed to, we had some chilled days, not really going to see anything specific, just wondering the streets, often her disappearing off to do a job or have an interview whilst I wondered around seeing what that particular area had to offer. Home cooking was interspersed with a variety of meals out including my first experience with a Mongolian Barbecue - A tasty one it was too! An evening out was also taken to catch the latest Pirates of The Caribbean movie, another welcome interlude to the sightseeing extravaganza that had been the last couple of months.

We cooked, we drank (far too much on at least one occasion) and we laughed. The tourist traps were not high on the agenda but relaxing and enjoying my time in Vancouver certainly were. It became something totally different and unexpected. A breather from the travel roller coaster couldn't have been better timed if I'd tried!

Heart

Sometimes, just very occasionally, something happens that makes you think that everything really is right with the world, that despite all the bad stuff you see and read in the news, humanity can shine through.

One such occasion dawned as I made my way across my the US border into Canada. I was on my way to Vancouver to catch up with a friend for a few days before heading back into the States to Portland.

I was on a Greyhound bus again, the cheap option when it comes to travel in the States and I'm often reminded of that fact by the shabby looking clientele that seem to frequent these buses on a regular basis. Indeed overnight trips on Greyhound have a notorious reputation and one that has me avoiding any long trips on them. Short trips though have been pleasant enough to warrant little complaint.

For the first time on Greyhound bus I would cross the border into Canada and hadn't really known what to expect. We were told that the bus would pull in at the US side of the border, our luggage would be taken through, we'd pass through customs and immigration before retrieving luggage and meeting the bus on the Canadian side of the Pacific Highway border.

Formalities dispensed with we filed back on the bus. As we were preparing to leave it became apparent that we were missing someone. Our driver returned from her investigation to inform us that a young German girl had been denied entry into Canada on account of insufficient funds.

In the moments that followed I witnessed something quite special. Hands went to pockets, into wallets and up and down the bus money was moving. Here we were on a bus conceived as the cheapest way of getting around and between us we had put together well in excess of $200. The money was handed over to the bus driver who took it down to immigration in the hopes that it might persuade them to let her in.

We waited, and waited. Then, from the doors of the immigration office appeared two woman. The bus driver and a young German girl who re-entered the bus in tears. Tears that called on every emotion. The distress of not getting through and where that would have left her and the unbelieving joy that a bunch of complete strangers would put their heads and money together to help her out.

In those moments I saw something that restored my faith in humanity. That people, even a bunch of total strangers have such compassion for another human, someone they had never met before today and someone they would likely never see again. It was a gesture that came straight from the heart and from the soul and one that left me feeling proud of my fellow man. Stories like this never make the news, instead you'll hear about all the bad stuff that's going on, how protective we must be of ourselves and our children. I just hope that the next time you watch the news and worry about all the bad things going on in the World today that you remember this story. Remember the ones that don't get reported, the ones that make us believe again that there is so much good in this world.

A Head Butt no Brain!

It comes but once every 4 years, a day that defines a time. A day that 4 weeks ago I dreamt I'd be watching England, a day, in fact that every man dreams he's watching his country play. For two nations that dream is realised today. France and Italy will play each other in the Football World Cup Final. Each team, with a Nations hopes and dreams resting upon their shoulders, life's ambitions a mere 90 minutes away from being realised.

England had long since departed the tournament, crashing out to Portugal in the Quarter Finals, the dream was over for another four years for the English contingent. The Americans had been a huge disappointment as well, failing to get past the group stages and now, here I was, and Englishman, in America about to watch France and Italy battle it out in Germany!

With Seattle my venue and Sandy by my side we set about finding a bar to watch the game. We settled on an Irish Bar around Pike Place Market, having failed to find anywhere else showing it, and joined the throngs within. I was surprised just how many people had turned out here to see the game, a two floor building, the ground floor was packed to the rafters so we settled on a spot in the upstairs bar, still 20 minutes before kick off.

As kick off approached, even the upstairs now was jammed up. Looking around me, hearing conversations it was obvious that people from nations spanning the globe had come together in one place to watch this game. We'd found ourselves chatting to a Frenchman and a Belgian as the game progressed and the beer flowed.

Tensions from those more intimately involved were becoming ever greater as deadlock remained and time ticked on. In extra time they boiled over on the pitch as Zinedine Zidane threw his head in the direction of Italian, Marco Materazzi. Shock at what we'd just witnessed reverberated around the bar, you could almost here the gasps from bars and homes across the world. Zidane, hero to so many, legend not only in his own country but throughout the lands had, in a moment of madness, ended his career. His final moments on the football pitch were to see red and leave the field, taking with him French pride and dreams.

The Italians went on to win the trophy on penalties, but it will be the Zidane head butt that remains in most minds when they talk about the 2006 World Cup Final. For me, watching this game for the first time abroad was an experience in itself. In a country where football means a totally different sport, I'd been able to share the experience with people from all nations, and clearly see in the eyes of the French and Italians just how much this game meant to them.

Sandy and I headed to a bar after the game to have a drink with a couple of the guys we'd met in the bar. A bottle of wine with a Frenchman after such an experience was quintessential in many ways but seemed so right in many many more.

Friends - Old and New

It happened as I stood outside my hostel in Seattle. A voice, carrying, I could hear what was being said yet it didn't register for several seconds. My name. I was hearing my name! But from where? There was no one around, not close anyway, it still continued. I had my doubts that it was actually me they were after. I mean, who the hell would know me here? Then from behind me, a young lady appears, blond hair cascading down, a knowing look on her face.

"I thought it was you! How are you??"

I looked at her. Nothing. Again, this time trying to get my brain to function at full speed. Nothing. She recognised me, that much was certain. As those moments tick by, it becomes increasingly uncomfortable. You know it, she knows it, heck anyone within ogling distance knows it. I just don't recognise her and that fact is biting through her with every passing moment.

She braces the subject. "Dave, its Anna, from the hostel in New York!". As the words spilled from her mouth I was already wondering how the hell I could have forgotten. The memories came flooding back, the nights out, the beers in the hostel, heck, we even went to the Yankees game together!!

Maybe it was seeing her out of context or without the hat that donned her head, hiding her beautiful blond hair from view, maybe I'm just forgetful! Whatever it was I sure as hell recognised her now!

I'd been told this sort of thing could happen while I was away. You meet people at one point in your trip and because you're following a similar route you wind up bumping into people again. Despite being told, its still a strange feeling when it does actually happen. Funnily enough she wasn't so much travelling and visiting here, she was actually working here.

I didnt see her again after that, we exchanged numbers but I was leaving in a day or 2 and we were both pretty busy. It was nice to bump into what was, in travelling terms I guess, an old friend.

I also seized upon an opportunity to meet a couple more Booties. Joe was also in from out of town and staying at the Green Tortoise whilst Travis was the local. The three of us arranged a get together for a few hours over lunch. Once again I wasn't to be disappointed by the awesome people that frequent Bootsnall.

A lovely meal around Pike Place Market and a few beers were capped off, stylishly with a few photos by the Seattle Wall of Gum, and yes, its absolutely as disgusting as you may think, still, it makes for a funky photo!


I'd undoubtedly met a great bunch of people while here in the Emerald City. From Joe and Travis, bumping into Anna, the crew from the HI hostel and, of course, Sandy who I'd arranged to meet again to watch the the biggest game of football in 4 years, the World Cup Final!

Underground, Overground, Above Ground

It seems that if you're an American City or almost any big City, you need one. They seem to be there mainly for visitors and already I'd enjoyed my fair share of them throughout the US. They often dominate not only the "things to do lists" but the skyline too. Indeed from them, its the skyline you come to see. Metropolises laid out in front of you, in fact, all around you. Welcome to the Space Needle, Seattle's viewing platform deluxe.

I've always liked these buildings that give you such an overview of the City you're in. Maybe its the feeling of knowing how the City is laid out below you, the feeling of actually BEING here, the enjoyment of being in such a City and seeing what makes each one unique from its own viewpoint or maybe its just the awesome picturesque views you get from the top. Whatever it is, I cant help but want to take advantage of them.

Seattle's Space Needle dominates the Cityscape almost like no other. Its prominence in part of the City where high rises are few and far between allows it to own the space in which its surrounded.

I'd thought about doing it for a couple of days but the weather had been typically cloudy and overcast, however things had changed and the sky was now gloriously blue and who could resist on such a beautiful day?!


Atop the Needle, I actually had a slight feeling of disappointment, I wasn't as high up as I though I might be and couldn't help but think I'd been up better buildings before. Still, the views were impressive. The high rises Downtown gave Seattle that "Big City" feel to me for the first time, whilst Puget Sound and other watery goodness was encompassed in a lower rise area. Mount Rainier, the active Volcano was visible in the distance giving the City a whole different feel on the location front.






The whole experience gave me a unique look on Seattle and whilst it costs a fair bit to get up there I'm still glad I did it. Maybe I'd feel differently had the day been bleaker but the glorious sun and skies allowed the City to bask away.


In Seattle though, what goes up also comes down. Indeed I'd been surprised walking around just how hilly this place was. Roads would slope off into the distance or rise and carry on rising, the steepness tugging at your leg muscles wherever you walk.


Perhaps not on most people's must do list is the Underground Tour. I'd been recommended this idea from several people and along with Sandy headed off to try my luck at getting on one. We knew the place was located around Pioneer Square but weren't entirely sure of the exact location. We saw one group appear from out of nowhere and tagged along for a few moments to see what was happening. Fortunately the tour leader was able to point us to the starting point.

The tour takes you on a route under Seattle to where the City used to lie before being destroyed by fire in the late 19th Century. The City was then rebuilt atop its original streets a story or 2 higher. Whilst there may not be a huge variety of stuff to see the guide made the trip more than worthwhile. Full of information and presented in an entertaining way the tour is made more than worthwhile by the people running it. We both come out back to street level full of praise for the Seattle Underground Tour.


Overground, above ground or below ground I was taking a shining to this City, I allowed myself several hours to just wonder the streets and whilst being amazed at the sheer number of coffee shops it has also located the main shopping district, not huge by anyone's standards but it sits just right in this City where nothing comes across as too overblown there's a certain modesty about this City that leaves me with a quiet sense of admiration for it.

A Tale of Two Hostels

Hostels in the US are funny old things. They're few and far between compare to their counterparts in many other parts of the world. Boston and Chicago for example have 3 a piece compared to a total of around 70 in Barcelona. The US hasn't really taken the hostel to its heart and instead Motels are the budget accommodation of choice it would seem. My single experience of one of these places had come in Memphis and as expected they're rather more ideal for someone with a car than without! The lack of hostels has meant I've often had trouble booking where I want to stay and, on occasion, booking anywhere at all!

With just 2 hostels, Seattle becomes just another City here with a lack of backpacker accommodation and I'd been pre-warned about one of these said places. Though not far from each other the HI and Green Tortoise come at you from very different angles. The Tortoise was the place I'd been made wary of, its location next to the Needle Exchange Centre, home if addicts from all around. Hardly an ideal location! This had more than contributed to my desire to stay at the huge HI place, that whilst only a block or 2 away was in a somewhat less shady locale.

Once again though the lack of options had left me somewhat out in the lurch. the HI, huge place that it is was actually full for the final couple of days I'd planned to stay here and meant I would be swapping hostels midway through my stay. I'd been reluctant to take the Tortoise option up but even they were short of beds and hotel options were out of my reach money wise. It was simply a case of if I want to stay I'm going to have to stay there.

You couldn't witness more contrast between two such nearby places if you tried. HI hostels here in the US have a reputation of being clean, comfortable, organised and regimented. Evidenced none more so than right here in Seattle. Hostel workers walked around dressed as if 1970s Phys Ed teachers in uniformed shirt and shorts, an almost comedic sight. No Alcohol was permitted on the premises but things were unquestionable clean and well thought out.

The HI hostels often fill up with large groups in town for a conference or school kids here en masse. They're family friendly places and more often than not extremely well located. They are, ideal if fun is not on the agenda. put simply, you know what you're going to get and fun filled nights are far from its inhabitants minds. Basically, they're brilliant but ultimately boring!

In contrast, the Green Tortoise could hardly have been more different. The run down looking building housed a run down looking hostel, emphasised more than expected due to their imminent move to a new location. The rooms were fine but had clearly seen better days, the computers used or internet access were falling to pieces, half of them not in working order, faulty keyboards and mice without balls aplenty. Grungy looking seating that Kurt Cobain would have been proud of adorned the common areas. whilst staff seemed blissfully unaware of anything going on around them.

To use an old cliche though, the place had character. Its inhabitants more social, a place unlike the HI where I figured I might actually meet people! in many respects I felt more at home here than in the stuffy HI down the road despite its obvious flaws.

Indeed my expectations were met when, sat outside on the balcony I got chatting to Sandy, a woman from Corpus Christie, Texas. It just seemed the environment I was now in was geared to this happening. Having already enjoyed a few pints of something local earlier in the evening we decided to hell with it and ventured out to find a suitable drinking tavern.

We wound up in Pioneer Square. My first taste of the City's best known nightspot and Saturday was the perfect evening to soak up the atmosphere. Bars and clubs were overflowing, spilling out onto the streets as I saw Seattle rockin' for the first time. Neither of us particularly felt like clubbing so we bounded from bar to bar managing, somehow, to find all the ones that closed early! It was great to sit back and watch a City thriving on its weekend, the atmosphere was infectious and I was happy enough to let it all go on around me as I sat back taking it all in.