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.