Canada is that kid you made fun of growing up that turned out to be a kind, cute, millionaire that you want to marry in your twenties.
Although I started walking the wrong way out of the train station for multiple blocks when I first arrived, Vancouver treated me well. I checked into my hostel (something I haven’t done in almost a year so my blood starting pumping) and got my first good whiff of Canadian weed. I spent the afternoon exploring Yaletown, which looked eerily similar to Chelsea in New York, and then unintentionally took a mile stroll along the riverwalk path. I finally found the water taxi station and got shuttle a hop and a skip over to Granville Island. Talk about a market! The fresh ingredient selection was amazing and I bought a box of fresh raspberries to scarf down while I perused. I grabbed a hot tea and made my way to the elevated dock to watch the Vancouver skyline dim with the sunset with lights starting to bounce off the water. After dark my quest to find the best brewery in the Northwest began with the Granville Brewing Co. where I befriended the staff and got the scoop on Vancouver life.
The next day I walked more than my feet could handle, back and fourth from one body of water to the next, but ultimately spending most of the day posted up in the Vancouver lookout, returning for the sunset view as well. I found Gastown, which resembles old town Boston, whose most famous landmark is a clock that runs on…you guessed it! Gas. I turned a quiet corner and came upon a store filled with hats. I had been developing an obsession with quality hats for months and so after much self persuasion I dropped some big bucks on the nicest hat I’ll ever own. I was repaid its value in compliments by three days. I found myself at a candlelit out-cove sitting in the window of The Flying Pig restaurant chatting up my server about the largest homeless population in Canada and the steps being taken to help them. You know…. small talk. He winced when I said I was headed to Capilano Suspension Bridge Park the next day. I didn’t care, I was going, and I was going early.
I waited outside a Hyatt for the first bus to the park. I noticed two other girls who were dressed much warmer, and unfortunately, much more appropriately for the day. Once we made it through the turnstile and to the main suspension bridge, I was the first one in the park and bouncing on the bridge. It was glowing in the mid-morning light and quite stillness of the beginning of a rough workday. I asked one of the two previous girls to take my picture. Afterwards one asked me “Are you here by yourself?” to which I answered an assured “Yes I am.” She wouldn’t have that and invited me to spend the morning with them touring the park. She took my camera and everything and snapped pictures of me at every major Kodak moment spot. I ended up spending most of the day with those great girls. It’s interesting how when you travel abroad or even just around, you treat the people you meet like you’ve known them forever. Maybe that’s because you did in another life, or maybe because you’re simply all in this great adventure together.
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