Vancouver, BC
September 4-6
The night outside Banff was chilly, though nothing to get excited about after days of freezing or near freezing temps. We camped in a mountain valley campground, mostly full of RVs.
[Sunset from our campsite]At this point it was abundantly clear: we were the youngest people “on the road” in North America. Once Labor Day clears the calendar the retirees are out in full force, posh RV in tow. Despite a higher concentration of camping vehicles than we prefer and grass campsites instead of woodland, we enjoyed the well-run and clean grounds of IRVin's before a leisurely start the next morning.
The drive to Vancouver fell, unfortunately, on Labor Day. The traffic was reminiscent of I-95 northbound on a Sunday evening in the summertime. But the slowdown didn’t begin until we were on the road for four hours, about one hour away from Vancouver. I tuned the radio to an AM news channel only to discover that there was an overturned SUV on the main bridge into the city. Alyssa, ever the faithful navigator, had us off the highway (which was now completely stopped) and onto an alternate route in minutes. I hate to say it, but as we sailed over the unclogged bridge, I loved beating all those Canadians into their own city. It felt good.
We stayed with college friend Anneli for two nights and saw the sights in the city. Anneli and her four gracious housemates extended a warm and generous welcome to us, offering us delicious food, comfortable accomodations, excellent conversation, and a wealth of inside tips about Vancouver. Their hospitality was doubtless the highlight of our visit to Vancouver.
We walked Stanley Park, the downtown waterfront vista with a huge forest larger than Central Park.
[Two views from Stanley Park]We strolled through the city's Chinatown, apparently the largest of its kind save in San Francisco. Here we saw what we affectionately refer to as "gecko-sicles." Take a gander.
[Weird, eh?]We sampled the local Greek fare, chuckled at the city’s decision to build a tall, skinny tower with restaurant at top, and stared in dismay at the hundreds of down-and-outs, mostly heroine addicts.
Which brings me to the beauty of the Canadian recycling regime. If you’ve never been to Vancouver you’ve probably never see their trash cans. Each one has a divided rack in the front to hold cans and bottles to be recycled. At first glance you’d think that it would fill up and then no one could recycle. That is what I thought at least. There are only about six little recycling receptacles on each trash can after all.
[Vancouver trash can with recycling apparatus]But here is where the Canadian tendency towards charging fees comes into play. The homeless people wander around Vancouver during the day collecting all of the cans and bottles out of the trash can holders in order to bring them to the local collection center where they then cash out. I realize this happens to a degree in some American cities too, but nothing like in Vancouver. There were homeless gents everywhere, emptying out the can and bottle holders, and keeping the recycling system humming.
The beauty and sneakiness of it all pleased me tremendously. Without really letting on, the Canadian government was transferring millions of dollars of wealth from the beverage purchasing classes to the street people. Brilliant. No bureaucratic middlemen, no squeezed, complaining middle-class (after all, participation in this wealth transfer system is completely voluntary), and an otherwise unoccupied street people with something to fill their time and occasionally their pockets. Nice job Canadians.
Oh, and best of all, garbage gets recycled.
[We spent hours on these electric buses, making our way around Vancouver]That evening we dined with Anneli’s fantastic housemates. We learned plenty. First, Vancouverites take sushi very seriously. While I am accustomed to sushi pieces being one or two bites (depending on the variety), their sushi rolls were as big around as a baseball. These enormous rolls are eaten by the dozen by some of Anneli’s roommates. I wish I would have taken a picture of the sushi feast that was devoured that night. The two guys from the basement each ate two or three times what I could get down (which included BBQ eel, and several salmon pieces as long as my hand). The experience was astonishing.
We sat around discussing Canadian politics, views on the world and the States, and the glories of the “
Tim Tam Slam.” Before turning in, we experienced our first ever Tim Tam Slam (delicious) and grew to appreciate some of the nuances of Canadians and their way of life.
In the morning we grabbed some coffee from a nearby shop recommended by Anneli and then bid farewell to Vancouver and a very hospitable couple of days in Canada. Well, we sort of bid farewell. We turned around soon enough and returned to the coffee shop to retrieve a forlorn purse. Thankfully, we realized this lost purse before crossing the border.
Before leaving Canada, let me make a recommendation should you ever travel there. “The Real Canadian Superstore.” It’s like a Super Walmart, except way better. Aisle after aisle of bulk products (from baking soda or flax seed to ground cumin or gummybears) kept us in the store for well over the five minutes we intended to spend. We’re hoping to see one south of the border someday. If you ever hope to experience a Tim Tam Slam, you’d better hope so too, cause that’s where we get our Tim Tam’s.
Ah, back to the good old USA. And for my politically incorrect statement of the day, I’ll admit it, I think Canada doesn’t hold a candle to the States.
(*ugh. He’s such an ethnocentric jerk.*)
