Vancouver – Day 9

My last full day in Vancouver started bright and sunny!

I got up in time for breakfast, had a refreshing shower, and then spent half an hour chatting to the Dutch guy sharing my dorm. He was packing up to head off to Montreal and then back to Holland. He was most impressed with my plans and thought it was wonderful that I was actually living my dream. As he said “most people just dream of what you are doing, but don’t do it.” Fair point, so it helps me quell any guilt I feel for having such a wonderful time – and I certainly have so far.
After he had gone I thought it would be a good idea to “sort out my shit” and get all the washing I had lobbed into my locker last night sorted out and get my bags mostly packed so that tomorrow’s departure is relatively smooth. As I was sorting out all this stuff Ben, an Aussie guy in my dorm, came back and started sorting out his stuff. As he was checking out this morning I just tossed all my stuff aside and let him get on with his packing – I can do mine later. He was most grateful and we chatted for another half hour while he got himself organised. When he had gone I thought “bugger this, why am I sitting around inside when I should be taking advantage of the sunshine” so I went out in search of the illusive tour bus.

I found the nearest stop for it (just round the corner) and waited for it. Along it came and I got on it. It takes about two hours to do its loop and one can just hop off and hop on it wherever one wants. It isn’t a terribly efficient way to get about town because it does a “tourist loop” past all the attractions & landmarks – but then if one wants to go directly from A to B then it is best to walk or catch a bus which does just that. It is good for getting a feel for the city and the locations of places. I was very pleased to note that it didn’t show me anything new in the downtown area that I hadn’t seen already – however it does take one round Stanley Park which would be one hell of a walk!

Having got back to where I started I thought I had better post off the parcel of “stuff” I had collected, sort out my stuff – which I did – and then get my next hostel booked so I wouldn’t have to sleep on a street or in a bus shelter tomorrow night.

I very cleverly managed to lock my wallet & key in my room, but the lovely smiley Aussie girl on the front desk, who I have chatted to on several occasions when we’ve been polluting the atmosphere and killing innocent children, was most helpful and issued me with another key. I got my hostel booked and then went in search of food.
I settled for a lovely little Persian restaurant on Davie Street.

(One thing I have noticed over the last couple of days is the same bunch of bald, bearded, pierced, leather clad “blokes” who sit about outside Starmucks watching people go by – well mainly blokes. Any of these could have fallen out of the back end of Village People (probably literally) and as they all had the same tight black leather trousers and key chains on I thought this must be some kind of uniform. Is there such thing as the “stereotype queer”?)

I did wryly consider how much business might be affected if they changed the sign to read “Iranian Restaurant” – I’m sure it fools the Yanks easily “Gee, that’s the place that makes rugs isn’t it?”

Cynicism aside, it was very lovely – as was the waitress who was stunning. I mean I was stunned because I can’t remember seeing many women that beautiful. That was just an observation. The food was superb and after eating I set off down Davie Street to the Howe Street intersection to locate the place I need to catch my bus tomorrow.

Ah, sorry, I haven’t explained my plan yet have I?

Tomorrow I leave Vancouver for Vancouver Island – Victoria to be precise, the capital of British Columbia. I had this silly idea I might walk around Vancouver Island (VI from now on) until I found out it was bigger than Belgium!
The travel plan is: Check out of Vancouver Downtown, walk down to Davie & Howe, catch buses to TB (it depends on which bus comes first as to where I have to change), catch ferry to Swartz Bay VI, catch bus to Victoria, check in to hostel, collapse & sleep. That is the outline anyway. The journey to TB takes 1.5 hours, the ferry crossing takes 1.5 hours and the bus journey to Victoria takes 1 hour. I told you Vancouver was big!

So all is ready apart from the last minute packing, like toilet bag, etc and then I’m off. As I have now caught up with the blog writing – I will post it when I get to Victoria as they have free Internet access – I might treat myself to a little play time as I haven’t finished my Civ game I started whilst still in the UK!
I will sign off with my new name bestowed upon me by my sister-in-law, the lovely Tracey:

Phileas Blog!

(Note: It reminded me as I was updating my contact entries in Outlook with the email addresses of all the people I have exchanged details with. I mentioned how I felt I was being interviewed by Robert (as in Robert & Sherrill I dined with on the train), well before we left the train in Vancouver he came and gave me one of his business cards with their address, telephone number & email written on the reverse. It turns out he is the Director of Software Engineering for One Touch Global Technologies Inc based in California. Just goes to prove the truth in a bit of advice my mother gave me many years ago: “Always be polite, you never know who you are talking to.” How very true! I wonder if I would have got the job...)

Vancouver – Day 8

I have had a bit of a “stick around” day today and eventually caught up with some blog posting.

After getting up & breakfasting I had a sort out of all my clothes and decided that 90% of them needed washing.

As it was raining and overcast and generally a bit miserable I spent the majority of the day writing up the wonderful blog entries you enjoy so much! (I am just reasserting my male ego – so humour me please.) I did punctuate this with ‘phone calls to Mother and Pete (my brother for any who might not know) and a couple of runs to the coffee shop.

After spending most of the morning sat in the library typing I then spent a fair chunk of the afternoon sorting out photographs and posting the blog. I bit the bullet and paid for Internet access in order to do this and catch up on all the software & anti-virus updates I was missing.

Having exhausted most of the day in this fashion I then went out and got something to eat. I then remembered my laundry! Oh poo! I set that off and read my book while it was washing. Having got it drying (in the tumble dryer) I then had to wait for it to finish – so read a bit more of my book.

Not a terribly exciting day when one looks back on it, but I did catch up on the blog entries before I just gave up on it altogether.

After all this messing about it was midnight before I got to bed!

Vancouver – Day 7

I rose early and went in search of breakfast and the departing Chris. I managed to find both and we were joined by the gorgeous Svea who had been on Erik’s Monday tour. Svea comes from Saxony in southern Germany and looks like a Norse goddess – blonde hair, blue eyes, etc. Anyway we all had a chat over a leisurely breakfast and Chris & I managed our email exchange. According to his plans he should be in New York around the end of October/beginning of November – about the same time I will be there. “Hey cool man, we’ll have to hook up for a laugh & some beers.” He said. “Sure” I responded it would be fun to do so, although he won’t be staying in the hostel in New York he will be staying with one of his mates in the city. He asked me to let him know what Alaska is like (it was that or the road trip for him and the casting vote went for the road trip to Mexico) and I asked him to keep me posted on the monster fuel guzzlers trip down south. I warned him not to “do an Ozzy” and emulate Mr. Osborne’s antics of having a piss up the Alamo as he got arrested for it.

After Chris departed I chatted to Svea for a while. She was saying how she had met a German guy in the hostel who came from the next town from her, approximately 20 kilometres away. It can be a very small world can’t it? (Perhaps we shouldn’t have tumble dried it after putting it on too hot a wash!)
Anyway, Svea was off to hire a bike and cycle round Stanley Park and then over the Lions Gate Bridge to Horseshoe Bay where the ferries sail for Bowen Island and Ninaimo. This would be about a 40 Km round trip. I wished her well and said I was heading for the Sightseeing bus (for which I have a pass) and then the Vancouver Lookout (for which I also have a pass). We wished each other a nice & enjoyable day and parted company.

I had a mixed day as I strolled around downtown Vancouver as I managed to miss the sightseeing bus on several occasions, and for a few silly reasons – like they drive on the other side of the road here! The last one was because I was sitting in a restaurant eating – but that was a perfectly valid excuse – and the trick to this was to stay still and let the bus come to you!

After giving up on chasing the bus I decided to head for the Vancouver Lookout. This, as its name implies, is a viewing platform perched on top of the harbour building alongside the Canada Centre. (The Canada Centre is the main conference centre in Vancouver and has been built to resemble a cruise liner. It was also the Canada Tent when they had the Expo here in 1986.) As a building I feel quite sorry for it as it just gets obscured & dwarfed by the condos which have been built all around it. It just struck me as being bullied into insignificance. Having already been to the top of the CN Tower in Toronto didn’t help as this is half the height of it (or less). Having said that, from the top of it one does get some wonderful views of sprawling Vancouver and the surrounding mountains.
I wandered around the viewing platform, which it is possible to do, (the CN Tower had a restaurant in the way – unless one goes up to the Skypod) reading all the information plaques identifying various buildings & landmarks. I was happily snapping away like a Japanese tourist on mogodon when I heard “Hello Phil” and looked up into the electric blue eyes of Svea. [Fear not: the fantasy that she had been waiting for me to show up all day just to share my scintillating company passed in about .65 seconds – which, as Mr. Data would tell you, “for an android, is a very long time”.] She had been on her cycle ride – and back again – and I hadn’t even managed to catch one bus! Nevertheless we wandered around the observation deck for a while waiting for the sun to set. [As the last golden rays of the sun burst in a halo around the distant mountain turning the sky a burnished orange and the few scattered clouds crimson we fell into a passionate embrace... Sorry that was part of the .65 seconds. The bit about the sky was real though!]

I got some lovely pictures of the setting sun and the rising moon. I also got some good pictures of Vancouver by night, but was mighty pissed off I hadn’t brought my tripod. I did the best I could and relied on the cameras IS (Image Stabilisation) ability. Some of them came out really well. Although I am no photographer I am not stupid – so why are lots of other people as soon as they pick up a camera? I couldn’t believe the number of flashes going off as idiots tried to take night scene photos, from 100 metres up through armoured glass! I usually have the flash setting on my camera set to “Auto” and after one shot when the flash went off the picture was awful – all I got was a vague smudge of “city at night” through a white sheet of reflected flash light. After turning the flash off the pictures were much better (obviously) so why didn’t any of these idiots view the picture they had just taken – they were all using digital cameras after all! Anyway, after getting some good & some bad shots (the really bad ones I erased) I decided to call it a night and head back to the hostel. Oh, if anyone’s wondering; my company was so scintillating that Svea was writing her postcards! [Well one couldn’t smoke in the observation area.]
After leaving the lookout I attempted to find the Canada Centre in order to check out the IMAX cinema which is inside it. I know it was dark but could I find it? Could I buggery. I ended up heading into an underground car park and then gave up. I ambled off in the vague direction I thought was right, and it wasn’t. I ended up in a very dark and deserted part of town. I mean that literally; suddenly there weren’t any street lights and there was no one about at all. If I had fallen asleep reading “Day of the Triffids” and woken up where I was, I would have thought it was a true story and started hiding from plants! No matter, I was once a Boy Scout and although I didn’t have my compass with me (I travelled light hence; no tripod & no compass) I could see the moon, so I headed away from it and ended up in Gastown. I knew where I was from here especially when I found the steam clock. I waited about for five minutes until it piped nine and then set off for the hostel.

Having returned I finished the last beer the Geordies had left me and read my book for a while and then headed for bed.

Vancouver – Day 6

I had a bit of a rest day today, not that I particularly needed rest but I thought I’d better get this updated before I forget anything and I get so far behind I give up!

I treated myself to a lie-in and didn’t get up until 9:00. I threw some clothes on and wandered into “The Village” (full of little cottages I’m sure) to get a cup of coffee. I thought this plan was best as all the showers were taken – one needs to hit them earlier or later, 9:00 is not a good time.

I found out what is being filmed across the road from one of my fellow air polluters. Apparently it is one of her favourite TV shows. It is called “Men In Trees” and is set in Alaska – but is recorded in Vancouver. I don’t know what it is like because I have never seen it, but I’m sure any of you people who pay Bastard Murdoch for multi-channel babysitting, or just for 85 channels of shit, will be able to pick it up somewhere, after all if it is on Sky-Shite TV it will be repeated every hour in between twenty minutes of adverts every ten minutes!

Having consumed my coffee whilst catching up on the blog entries – I must get some Internet access soon so I can post them & catch up with emails – I then went & had a leisurely shower.

I did some more typing and got closer to catching up, by which time I needed another caffeine fix – not to mention something to eat as I was very hungry. The nearest place is Denny’s Diner. (Sorry I can’t find a maple leaf symbol to type it properly as the apostrophe is a maple leaf on the sign.) They do this wicked sausage special which consists of sausages (no surprise there), sausage patties and smoked sausage (delicious) with two eggs and hash browns. Add coffee and a side order of bacon and heaven as a concept becomes a little more real.

After this I thought I’d better walk of the glut of calories I had just taken on; so along the sea walk I went. This was much safer during the week as one doesn’t have to contend with over active nutters on mountain bikes, skateboards and roller blades. The path is divided for walkers and “the rest” but apart from the guilt of watching all these athletic things coming past some of the female skaters in tight lurex were a definite distraction! (I have to confess I did walk into a bench whilst I was watching a pair of disgustingly sexy women skating past instead of looking where I was going. I should have stopped and looked! (I did laugh at myself though.) Second thoughts; perhaps I had better take an honesty check on this blog.)
I almost got to the science museum but ended up walking around the BC Stadium instead. This is an amazing structure – stadium shaped, sure – because it is the only building in the world whose roof is held up by air pressure. The roof is made from Teflon coated canvas and is lashed down by hundreds of wires. The entrances are not called entrances but air locks, and that is because they are. They are revolving doors with seals on them so that as one goes in a similar amount of air is inducted as is exhausted – very clever. It is the home of the local hockey team (that’s ice hockey) and also holds concerts and soccer matches. This was very obvious as there were loads of posters up advertising “Beckham id coming”. There were also competitions to win VIP seats to the forthcoming LA Whatevers that David plays for against the Vancouver Somethings in early October. I will sadly be in Alaska so I won’t get the chance. I figured I’d live despite missing him though (I’d much rather have seen Rush in Toronto – no, I haven’t forgotten).

My feet told me that the calorie count had been sufficiently depleted to return for more blog writing, so I headed back up Georgia Street past The Centre in Vancouver for Performing Arts. Sorry if that appears an awkward way of putting it but that is what the sign says and not The Vancouver Performing Arts Centre – perhaps they translated it literally from the French.

Having returned to the hostel armed with a large latte (I am getting to like these) I proceeded to write up some more before seeking out more food. This just consisted of two slices of pizza from one of the village shops – about the equivalent of half a pizza in the UK!

This was enough to finish me off for the day and so I returned to the hostel for my evening smoke & bed.

This was where plans went awry. I met Dianne outside the hostel and we started chatting about various things and then along came Chris. We asked him how his van purchasing went, and he said “good”. Apparently they didn’t like the look of the first one as it started belching black smoke out of the exhaust on the test drive. The second one was ok though, so they got it. He was laughing as he told us about it. Apparently when he checked the handbook for the model number (it’s a GMC seven seater people carrier) he said “Shit man, it’s got a seven litre V8 motor in it. It’s going to drink fuel like it’s going out of fashion!” I pointed out that when they get to the States and put a gallon in (bear in mind a US gallon is not an old Imperial 5 litre gallon) they will be putting in less than the engine capacity of the monster they have bought! He saw the funny side of this and decided they would not use any air conditioning or heating or anything in it apart from driving!
After chatting for ages we decided to turn in, especially when we noticed it was ten past midnight. As I was travelling light I didn’t have Central Control with me (magic bum bag containing everything) and didn’t have a pen or paper for the exchange of emails. Chris was planning to be away by 10:00 the following morning and I was intending to be up for breakfast at 8:00, so we agreed to meet for breakfast. Dianne was leaving at 7:00 the next morning in order to catch her bus back to Seattle from where she was returning to South Carolina.
We parted company and went to bed.

Vancouver – Day 5

I have booked another tour with the amazing Erik today – but this time I have a waterproof jacket! As The Who song goes “... won’t get fooled again.”

After grabbing a quick breakfast I then went & joined the tour party for the trip to Lynn Canyon. Like Erick’s last tour we started off walking into downtown Vancouver, this time stopping at the Courts of Justice via the University of British Columbia campus just along Robson Street. Next came the only overlap on the two tours – Vancouver library – but as it was the only one I wasn’t complaining.

As we were walking through downtown streets to our next destination I had to undo my jacket as I was getting warm. About two minutes later one of the guys in our group came over to me and said “Here mate, what football shirt is that?” I just held my jacket open and said “My home team Southend United.” “Bloody hell” he said sticking out his hand, “I was born & raised in Rayleigh!” We waxed lyrical about Southend and its environs for a while. Ian, that was his name, now lives in Manchester with his wife (whose name I didn’t catch) and is also on an extended travelling trip having gone by way of Thailand, Singapore, Australia, America (the real one according to Team America) and Canada before heading back to the UK. From Vancouver they were going to be heading east as far as Quebec before going home. [I told you the setting was wrong when we did the “world wash”.]

This time we walked through Chinatown. Erik had warned us about the dried fish, which does smell rather strong, but whereas Chinatown in Toronto was a mixture of all Asians this was solely Chinese. There are a lot of Chinese migrants in Vancouver and a lot of Chinese Canadians. This stems back to when Canadian Pacific Railway brought over, initially 150, Chinese workers to work on the railways. Effectively they were paid slaves as they got to do all the “serious shit” like the blasting, handling of unstable dynamite and clearing all the rock falls in the “Avalanche Alley”. Basically as a few of them got killed CPR would just bring in some more. When the railway was finished the Canadian government wanted to ship them all back home as they had fulfilled their usefulness. Needless to say, these people didn’t want to go as they had settled, made homes and families and although they were paid less wages than their white masters they were rich by homeland Chinese standards. As more migrants kept coming from China the government levied a “head tax” on Chinese immigrants (just the Chinese ones) which was raised every year to a staggering $500, which was the equivalent of two years wages. It seems the Canadian government had learned well from their former colonial masters! (That’s the British in case you can’t work it out!) This isn’t just me venting some venom, the Canadian government realised the errors of their ways; erected a monument to the Chinese Rail workers and the Chinese servicemen who fought as Canadian forces in WW2 and issued an official apology to their Chinese citizens and China. They also paid for a Chinese garden to be built in Chinatown in the proper ancient style, i.e. it was hand built.
The plethora of meats, fishes, vegetables, herbs, spices and fungi available was staggering and a total riot of colours and smells.
The last bit we saw in Chinatown was the world’s narrowest building – as confirmed and listed in the Guinness Book of Records. It is only 2 metres wide! This also came about due to the mistreatment of the Chinese by the authorities and was built out of spite. The original landowner, a Chinese man, had purchased the land and had received planning permission to build a proper full sized building on his own land. However, the city authorities “changed their minds” as they insisted the road needed widening and so reclaimed all but two metres of his land. As he had been granted permission to build a structure on his land, he did so on what was left to him – 2 metres! (The building alongside it didn’t exist when the narrow building was completed – so it stuck out like a sore narrow thumb – and obviously meant more of a protest when it stood alone.)

After a bit more walking we boarded the bus which took us out to North Vancouver. It is quite amazing at just how vast & spread out the city is. I suppose it is not unlike any major city but Vancouver is surrounded by mountains & water and when seen in relation to these it probably appears bigger than it is – although it is big, Stanley Park itself is 100 hectares in size and contains its own forest.
We alighted in the Lynn Canyon Park and had a wonderful hike through part of the forest. A few people stopped to take pictures of the sign stating “Bears active in this area” but as there were a group of 22 of us there was no chance of seeing one – at least nowhere close. Contrary to popular misinformed belief bears will not attack humans for the fun of it. They will only attack if startled; that is you approach them very quietly from downwind so they can’t smell or hear you (they have very poor eyesight) but most individual hikers wear a “bear bell” which will warn of one’s approach and the bear will give anyone a wide berth – they are as frightened of us as we are of them. The only other time they will attack is if they have young cubs – but then one only has to threaten any caring mother’s offspring and see what happens! They do have an excellent sense of smell though and can smell any food one might be carrying up to 3Km away.

After a reasonable hike we stopped at Mirror Lake for lunch. This has some viewing platforms built around it which were left by the film crew after filming parts for the film “Are We There Yet?” I haven’t seen it personally so don’t know what it is like, but the lake setting is beautiful. Another bit of useless information: Vancouver is the third most used film location after California and New York and has the nickname of “Hollywood North”. Erik told us there are several of these structures film crews leave behind as gifts to the city – all very useful. One in particular was a log cabin which is now used as a Nature Appreciation Centre for children and hosts many school trips – we walked right past it but I didn’t catch which film it was used for. Another claim to fame was the waterfall jump in “Kiss The Girls” (The scary film starring Morgan Freeman & Lesley Judd) which was filmed in Lynn Canyon. As an added note; the stunt woman who performed the jump (of course Ashley didn’t do it) broke three ribs in the process. Lynn Canyon happens to hold a macabre record for deaths. The majority of these are teenage boys between 13 & 16 who go “canyoning” and don’t make it. (I can remember back to the time when one was immortal and invincible – I was just lucky enough to live through it!)
Anyway, leaving aside the macabre, Lynn Canyon is very impressive and, in places, just like a large axe cut through sheer rock. The suspension bridge across it is nowhere near as high or long as Capilano, but still impressive in the views one gets of the canyon below. I was chatting to a young Belgian girl, Cherese, prior to getting to the bridge and she was kaking it on the crossing over but managed it with some coaxing and reassurance. Imagine her chagrin when after ten minutes on the other side Erik said: “Right, now we cross back over and head off up the path.” I started talking to Cherese about Belgian beers, the proper trappist brews not the fizzy piss Stella stuff that the Belgians just export to people with no knowledge or taste and don’t bother drinking themselves. She instantly went into raptures and started giving her analysis of the best ones (Kwak being amongst them) and was still going on about them after she reached the other side. I just happened to comment “see what beer can do for you” and then she realised she had crossed the bridge and hadn’t even noticed. [I have to hand credit to my good mate Liz for the knowledge of Belgian beers and to introducing me to them – in the correct glasses! Thanks Lizzie darling xx]

After a good old up hill & down dale trek we finally came to a paved surface and a toilet stop. I was saying to Chris (Aussie from Brisbane) he should feel at home with these as they were just posh dunnies – which they were – and I kindly surrendered my place to Dianne, an American lady from South Carolina. This was a good cue to get chatting (after we had been to the toilet) and so we had a good three way chat going with Chris, Dianne & myself – lots of laughs were had too.
After boarding another bus we alighted at the water bus terminal to be ferried across the harbour. These water busses are brilliant. They can unload & load 600 passengers in three minutes! This is achieved by having one side for disembarking (those doors open first and are clearly marked “Exit this side”) and then the embarkation doors open and let everyone on. I see no reason why our one was special, so I make the assumption for the rest of the service, this thing didn’t hang about. Seeing as it is used as a commuter service I’m not surprised. If you want sightseeing, get a slower boat with someone on it giving a commentary. Erik supplied us with points of interest on the crossing. When we docked we just walked straight through a barrier onto the Sky Train platform and caught the Sky Train.

Wow, these are little trains, just like the DLR in London, only three carriages long and driverless. That is where the similarity ends. These things are like little rocket trains and have the acceleration characteristics of a large sports motorcycle – if one is not sitting down or hanging on, you’re on the floor at the back of the carriage! These things really shift. I am going to ride one round the whole loop just for the fun of it, especially as it is possible to see out of the front window with an unobstructed view.

After disembarking the Sky Train we were in for more walking, this time to Gastown. This was the old industrial part of Vancouver – in case one couldn’t guess from the title – and is now all beautifully paved in “modern cobble”, i.e. it is flat and level, and the old warehouse buildings now house shops, pubs & restaurants – oh, not to mention a few souvenir shops! The great attraction of Gastown is the stream clock. Yes, it was but isn’t now. It was powered by the steam which was piped around the old warehouse district and built by a clockmaker in the area to utilise this for timekeeping. Today, however the clock is actually run on electricity and only the “chimes” operated by steam – it actually pipes the Westminster chimes and the hours, on the hour of course. It is quite a novelty seeing this steam venting from the top of the clock until it gets going and pipes some notes.

Following this we headed up the road to catch the bus back to the hostel. So all in all during the day we had travelled by diesel bus, electric bus, water bus and Sky Train, plus feet of course. A thoroughly enjoyable tour, just like Erik’s last one. I have been recommending them to everybody I see looking at the notice board.

Anyway, having got back to the hostel there were a bunch of vans, trucks & hoists arrayed around the corner of Burnaby and Thurlow Streets which looked very much like a film crew. The big lights being unloaded were a bit of a giveaway. Chris had run off earlier to meet some mates as they were buying a van for their road trip to Mexico – I was having a chat to Dianne and she suggested getting something to eat – damn good idea as I was hungry. We found a lovely Thai restaurant in Rainbow Town (Davie Street) and had a good chat about all sorts of things and generally put the world to rights. It also appears that not all Americans are ignorant morons. Dianne agreed with all my opinions of George Warmongeringwanker Bush and even threw a few more in on top. She could also give me an inside line on the corrupt & bent Senators & Congressmen greasing Bush’s arse in order to curry favour or secure sponsorship money – “it’s all about the Yankee dollar honey!”, her words not mine.
When we go back to the hostel it seemed the film crew were in full swing. Hollywood North was open for business it seemed.

After a splendid repast and good conversation we exchanged email addresses and bid each other good night.
I slept soundly having had a most enjoyable day.

Vancouver – Day 4

Today I decided to check out the farmers market on Granville Island.

It is possible to take a taxi boat over to the island, but, being the adventurous type and as the sun was shining, I decided to walk via the Burrard Bridge. With a selection of Porcupine Tree albums programmed into the MP3 player, I set off. This gave me the opportunity of getting some photographs out over English Bay and a view of some of the huge ocean going container ships they have going in & out of Vancouver – which just happens to be one of the busiest ports in the world.

After crossing the bridge, pausing on the way for photographs, I then, crossed the very busy road (good old pedestrian crossings) onto West 1st Avenue and walked past the Molson brewery. Following the road round it leads one onto Granville Island.
[One thing which has taken me a while to get used to is that vehicles give way to pedestrians – I know they should in the UK (it says so in that least read book of all time: The Highway Code) – but over here they really do. If one is standing at the edge of a curb waiting to cross the road, vehicles will stop to let one cross! Don’t try this at home!]

Sitting at the intersection with Duranleau Street one will find Jack “The Bear” Latek. This is one character of a guy. He does work with the mentally ill – seeing as they get turned out on the streets here even more so than the UK – and is questionably one fruit cake. He was very nice and polite to me and I ended up chatting to him for about ten minutes. He collects old metal lapel pins, broken watches & jewellery which he then makes into things and sells them off to help raise money for the mentally ill & community projects. His next project is to put bike racks outside non-profit making city organisations to help the poor and, as he put it to me: “We’re losing our sense of community man, we have to get it back before it is destroyed completely.” I tend to agree with him, so, if you have any broken watches or lapel pins you want to get rid of, send them to:-

Jack “The Bear” Latek, 4383 Main Street, Vancouver, B.C. V5V 3R1 or Carnegie Community Center, 401 Main Street, Vancouver, B.C. V6A 2T7.

Having bid farewell to “The Bear” (he was a huge guy) and accepted his gift of a map of Granville Island and a spring (made of metal) I then headed into the market proper. Actually that should be markets – there are several – along with al manner of gift/art/craft shops, galleries, performing arts studios, water park and a plethora of other things besides. I spotted one right away and vowed to return.

First though; the Public Market. This was just like St. Lawrence Market in Toronto, filled with colours, sounds and smells. Food of every description was available. I promptly got myself a salami stick which would thrash the arse off of any Pepperoni version available. I spent quite a bit of time sampling things and buying things; some gorgonzola stuffed olives, grapes and peaches (more fruit Mummy) and a wonderful organic coffee. After satisfying my initial hunger I returned to the lure of:-

The Granville Island Museums!

This consists of The Model Trains Museum and The Model Ships Museum – oh, to be a boy again. Rest assured this wasn’t just a collection of old Mattel or Airfix kits someone had stuck together and painted, these were serious models made by real weirdoes, quite often from original blueprints (so the scales were correct) and taking years to make! Most of them were quite huge being a metre plus in length. There were actually radio controlled working submarine models - yes, they could submerge & surface again – one of which was used in an episode of The X Files. There was also a model of Seaview – if anyone can remember “Journey to the Bottom of the Sea”. (I’m counting on you Trogg!)

After satisfying my boyish reverie I returned to the market. I picked up some more food bits in order to make myself a meal back at the hostel & set off back the way I’d come – but on the other side of the bridge this time.

I got back to the hostel, did a bit more catching up with the blog entries (I’ve still got a way to go) had something to eat and turned in for the night. I want to be up & ready in time for Erik’s Monday tour.

Vancouver – Day 3

Today I went shopping! More on this shocking story later. (Try to imagine in newscaster voice.)

Well it is Saturday in Vancouver, and everywhere else this side of the International Date Line – I know.

Having got up, I ran away and hid in the shower rooms to have a shave & shower whilst the lads got their bags packed for moving out. Having done that, they then decided they need their daily fix of “Denny’s” – to which they generously invited me to join them. Denny’s is a diner at the corner of Davie and Thurlow Streets. Having indulged in large breakfasts we then returned to the hostel and the lads checked out & called a cab to transport them to their new home. I saw them off and wished them well for their futures – to which they wished me well for my trip.
I returned to my room to get myself ready for my shopping expedition and it seemed really empty without them. They were good company and fun to have around, but, as I’ve said before, all things are transitory – and so I move on.

I hit the main shopping centres of downtown in search of waterproof jackets. I wandered around a few malls, something I don’t (and wouldn’t) do every day. I won’t bore anyone with the details here but I did shop around as I found things ranging from $100 to $1000. Needless to say I went for one of the $100 items. In the sports shop where I made my purchases (jacket & sweatshirt) I got talking to the assistant who was a German student over here on a working holiday before his final exams at university.

After this I wandered back to the hostel dumped off all my new bits and set about trying to catch up with my blog entries. I installed myself in the library (with the lead piping) with a cup of coffee and set about this monumental task. It had become monumental because I had four or five days worth of photographs to download and sort as well as this diatribe to complete & correct before posting. I thought I would get it all up to date and then splash out on a day’s worth of Internet connection (one has to pay for it here) in order to get it all posted and catch up on some emails.

This was proceeding apace until I realised I was very hungry and in need of food. I stopped my typing, packed up the laptop and set off for the little Greek tavern I had spotted on Davie Street. Normally this has a queue outside it but, as it was 10:30, I didn’t have that problem to contend with. I started with a lovely dish of olives & feta – yum. By the time I finished my main course of a very fine mousaka I was the last one in the restaurant.

People watching opportunities were kindly supplied by a bunch of gay guys in one corner – black leather and moustaches certainly seem to be the uniform – and it was rather amusing to here “camp speak” with a Canadian accent. One of the group had obviously got a new boyfriend as he was being shown off and introduced to everyone. I couldn’t help a wry smile at the campness of it all and my cynical side wondered if it was all an act – Julian & Sandy go Canuck – but they all seemed very genuine and never once slipped out of character.

As I wandered back to the hostel more Hardley-Rideable Velvet Bottoms were cruising about, it does seem they only come out after dark, seeming to operate a “pick up a shag” service; i.e. they would cruise up to the curb and wait to be approached by some “pretty boy” (actually some of them were plain ugly) and after a short conversation they would both ride off into the sunset of traffic lights down Davie Street. Aaah, it was almost romantic.

I decided to check out Granville Island Market tomorrow & see what that was like. With my plans made for the following day I toddled off to the land of nod.

Vancouver – Day 2

Today I went on a guided tour of Vancouver Downtown & Capilano Canyon. I got up at 8:00 and got some breakfast before getting signed in on the tour.

Our tour guide was Erik – somewhat of a local celebrity and generally brilliant guy. I will tell you a bit about Erik because he is interesting and has lived in Vancouver for 40 years. He originated from Copenhagen and whist walking down a street in his home town saw a picture in a window which took his attention. It was an aerial picture of Vancouver and was the subject of a talk and slide show that night. He attended the show and decided to go. He has been here ever since! He started these tours 13 years ago and added this second tour 7 years ago simply because he loves the city and its surroundings and wants to share it with people. He has also been featured on “Lonely Planet”.

We started out walking down to the beach and harbour front – literally two blocks down the road. From there he took us through various walkways and paths pointing out many various interesting landmarks (I must go and see the illuminated brush at night) before we stopped at a coffee shop for coffee and lunch sandwiches. After this we headed for a bus stop. We took a total of three buses to get to the Capilano Canyon area. I thought this was brilliant as we got to see various parts of the city (it is a very big city) as we travelled through it. We also used diesel and electric busses. (Vancouver has some wonderful electric busses which are just like ordinary single-decker busses - with tyres & suspension – but run on electricity. They are not as rough on the backside as the trolley busses in Toronto, and are of the “kneeler” variety to allow wheelchair access. One thing I must say about Vancouver is that it is very wheelchair friendly – there are ramps, lifts and automatic doors everywhere.)

When we arrived at our destination we had a walk across the Columbia Dam which creates a reservoir supplying virtually all of Vancouver’s drinking water. As it is fed by ice melt water it is 99.9% pure. Erik took us on a walk in a big semi-circle which finished up at the base of the Columbia Dam where there is a salmon hatchery. This had a very interesting and informative exhibition of the types of salmon and their growing, migrating and spawning cycles, plus a glass walled section alongside the outflow from the dam where one can watch the salmon leaping upstream. They sure do leap high! This was where we had lunch.

After lunch we set off for the Capilano Canyon Suspension Bridge. This is one of the longest in the world. Before crossing over it Erik showed us a picture of a tree which fell on the bridge following a storm. The tree was totally supported by the bridge as it had snapped near its base in the high winds. The tree weighed 43 tons and the bridge hadn’t budged at all. It was cut up and the bridge was closed for a month while it was inspected by engineers. The bridge required no repair work at all – apart from the removal of the tree! On the other side of the canyon was a tree-top walk which was great fun and offered some splendid views of the canyon. The walkways had all been constructed & fastened to the trees without the use of nails.

After viewing the canyon and crossing back over the bridge we all met up for our journey back into downtown Vancouver. This was one bus journey back.
When we got back into the centre of town we had another walking tour of parts including Vancouver library. This is a most impressive structure fashioned loosely on the Coliseum. It was the most expensive of four submitted designs and cost $100 million. This was no problem though as it was put to a public referendum on the design – and the tax payers chose the most expensive one. The most extraordinary feat of this project was that it was completed on time and on budget! (Olympic London take note!) The library has a stock of over one million books, 275 computers (which can be used free of charge for Internet & email access) and levies no charges whatsoever. Anyone can join the library and withdraw up to 60 books at one time. Unfortunately we couldn’t go into the library as all public buildings are closed at the moment due to strike action by the local authorities union. The strike is currently in its 10th week – and counting.

From the library we then had another coffee stop before heading off to our final bus stop & journey back to the hostel. All in all a thoroughly worthwhile tour I would, and have, recommend to anyone to do. There is another different tour on Monday and so I signed up for that.

Having removed my wet clothing I resolved to get myself a properly waterproof jacket and another sweatshirt (as I only brought one with me) at the first opportunity – like tomorrow.

Having freshened up – well dried off – I then went in search of food. As I didn’t want to stray too far, I had done enough walking for one day, I decided to clench my buttocks and venture down Davie Street. This, I have to say, has an amazing range of restaurants & eating houses. I settled for Gigi’s Steakhouse. A very strange looking woman showed me to my seat. She was round – well it looked like she had been designed by a compass (the drawing circles instrument, not the direction finding one) with two settings: large for the body and small for the head! Actually I am incorrect; I should say spheres not circles. Stick on two short fat legs and dye the hair a plum/mauve colour insert about two kilos of metal in all areas of the face & head and you should get a pretty good picture. She was very nice & polite and couldn’t do enough to ensure “my dining experience was enhanced” but she just looked rather odd to me. Anyway, the meal was lovely and after eating more than enough I set about walking back to the hostel in as manly and heterosexual manner as I could – even though I felt pretty much as my server looked (I possibly looked like her as well – minus the metal).

Well after dark Davie Street really comes alive. It certainly seems like one of my theories has been proved: Hardley-Ridables are the gay bike of choice (good job you got rid of yours Brucey) especially with tassels & studs! It looked like chucking out time at the Blue Oyster! I do still believe in “live & let live” and am not homophobic at all – I can accept men walking or skipping arm in arm or hand in hand, it is only when they start snogging each other my stomach turns. However, I didn’t have to witness this so my very full stomach remained so. I was a little intrigued as to how one gets leather to be that tight though – it must hurt.

Having returned to the hostel (worry not Jules, the botty is still intact) I returned to my room to encounter The Geordies again. They were just about to troop on outside for a smoke and some beers in which they instantly invited me to join them. Thanking them most kindly I did. We sat outside supping beers & smoking chatting about all things sport “Hey, that American Football is shite innit man?” – “Yes” I said, “it has even more stops & starts than Rugby League” – “Aye, Rugby League’s for cissies man – Rugby Union is the only real rugby.” I sensed I was among friends here. We also roundly condemned baseball as being the most boring game on earth – the Yanks think cricket is boring; compared to baseball a test match is played at the pace of 20Twenty! *

After a while and many laughs we all decided to retire for the night especially as the lads were checking out tomorrow in order to move into the house they have rented for their stay in Vancouver.

[* = I have attempted to watch both of these “national sports” on television. Football as they call American football here – you know the one played by butch boys in body armour – is one of the most boring spectator sports I have endured, and that was on television! Matches last 3-4 hours and apparently most Yanks who go to these games spend most of it eating – no wonder as you can’t smoke! Play has no flow or momentum to it, if one gets to watch a minute of action one is doing well as the whole thing seems to rely on endless replays of the last x seconds of “action” from approximately 80 different angles (slight exaggeration). Every time play stops – about every 45 seconds – half the team are replaced, there are endless “timeouts” and play actually stops for TV commercial breaks! It is commercialised crap for people with the attention span of a gnat! I don’t like it and definitely won’t be going to see a “live” game.

Rounders for Americans, or baseball, suffers a similar fate under my withering scrutiny. I watched some of this on TV (by the way the whole TV set up appears to cater for people with ADD as it just keeps jumping from “action” to commentators to replays and various combinations of all three with the rapidity of a strobe light. They should give epilepsy warnings at the beginning of each programme. (Perhaps they do, but I have missed them.)) and was it ever BORING. I watched approximately 20 pitches to various “batsmen”. (I had missed some and then counted 15 pitches in a row before a ball was hit.) The same thing could never happen in cricket because either runs would have been scored or wickets would have been taken. The “excitement” seems to be injected by fast talking “ballshitters” in a commentary box. These guys could sound excited at the World Paint Drying Cup final!]

Vancouver – Day 1

Firstly I must issue a correction. I meant to do this a while back but forgot. I previously stated that I walked the length of Yonge Street in Toronto – well if any of you were bothered to do so and actually checked this on Google Earth or some such equivalent (Microsoft do one) then you would quickly see that this is patent bullshit! Yonge Street is the longest street in the world and measures about 26Km or more – I can’t remember the exact figure as I was told it a while ago. What I should have said was that I walked the length of the Downtown part of Yonge Street. Apologies for any misleading caused, especially in the sense of the heroic effort this would require as I was not equal to it.

Today is my first full day in Vancouver.

I have to confess to a feeling of melancholy at the fact the train trip was over. It had been so good that I wanted it to go on longer. I would also say that the Gold Leaf upgrade had been worth it – the food was superb, the view from the observation car & large vestibule incredible, and I didn’t have to worry about organising my luggage as it was all done for me. However, all things are transitory, so I move on.

After checking out of my hotel – the last for a while – I then set about walking to my hostel. Once I realised I was walking the wrong way – the compass was packed & I didn’t feel the urge to stop & unpack it as it was raining – and reversed my course for the four blocks I’d walked and got it right second time, I found it. I had to wait to check in, so I dumped my bags and set about a minor exploratory walk. There are three hostels in Vancouver: Central, Downtown & Jericho Beach. I had already booked myself into Downtown before leaving the UK and thought I might try them all out during my time in Vancouver. I have now changed my mind, as I feel I have picked the best one.

Jericho Beach hostel was an old military barracks and has quite basic facilities – no terrible problem – and is situated several kilometres outside Vancouver city. It takes a bus ride to get into the city in order to do anything. The other problem with it is the dormitory arrangement. As they were old barracks there are about 8 bunks to a dorm, which equals 16 people, and very open. I had already been warned about this by the lovely Andrea, as she told me you don’t get much unbroken sleep with people arriving at all hours of the night - not their fault if they are coming in from the airport – and you happen to get surrounded by a few Japanese people! In addition to the already racial slur I have placed upon groups of them one must add zips! Apparently they have a lot of zips on things, like their (usually very large) bags, and they undo them, extract one item, zip it up, use the item and then unzip the bag, replace item and zip it up again. This apparently is done multiple times and at all hours of the night. This was also confirmed by a woman I got talking to in the library here. Her name is Joyce and she comes from Cumberland. She stayed a couple of nights in Jericho Beach and said exactly the same thing! Oh, one mustn’t forget that the bags have to be removed from and replaced in lockers. So the basic symphony is bang, zip, bang, bang, zip, bang. There are a few variations of movements to the symphony with some extra zips being inserted. So I’m glad I didn’t book there – and won’t.
Central is exactly what it says on the tin. It is in Granville Street in the Yaletown district and I checked it out on my exploratory walk. It has a bar beneath it and is flanked by night clubs! It was pretty bloody busy when I walked past it in the afternoon and apparently at night the place is heaving & very noisy. I got confirmation of this from Chris; an Aussie guy out of Brisbane who stayed there for a couple of nights before moving to Downtown. He said you had to virtually elbow your way through the queue waiting for admission to one of the clubs whilst trying to explain you were not trying to jump the queue but just get though it in order to return to the hostel. Doesn’t sound like my cup of tea either – which is about right as I don’t like tea.

Returning to the point, after getting checked in I dumped all my bags in the dorm to which I have been assigned, got changed and went off for a proper explore & orientation of downtown Vancouver. This is a large city which has spread to the mountains – and therefore no further – and has a harbour front similar to London’s Docklands, i.e. tower blocks with vastly overpriced properties in them unaffordable to normal people. (Yes, I am implying that one has to be abnormal to buy anything in Docklands – it isn’t worth the money!)

Vancouver is also a very modern city, so much so that the city council actually had to step in and declare various structures Heritage Buildings to stop them being torn down and replaced. It hosted the world Expo in 1986 and the old Expo building (the wonderful looking glass golf ball) is now the science museum with its own sky train station. The sky train is an elevated train track (mainly, only a little of it is underground) which runs around the whole city.
I backtracked to the hostel in order to check in and whilst being unsociable outside I met Chris. He is an Aussie from Brisbane, has been over here for six weeks and will be setting out on a road trip from Seattle to Mexico with a few mates next month. We had a good old chat and a laugh and he recommended some places to check out. He also told me there are some good places to eat along Davie Street (only one block up the road) but it is the Gay District – thanks for the warning. (Since then, and having seen it in daylight, the prevalence of rainbow banners all down the street is a bit of a giveaway.) I told him I was glad I left my tight leather trousers which make one squeak when one walks behind (I don’t really have any), and told him I wouldn’t fart loudly in public to give away my “virgin” status – to which he had a good laugh. I know he is staying in a dorm on the floor below because I could hear his laugh from my dorm! A good guy though.

I then got checked in and dumped all my stuff in my locker. I sorted out a load of washing and went back to the front desk to get some change & washing powder sorted out. They asked me if I wanted to sign up for “Erik’s Tour” tomorrow. This is a guided tour of downtown Vancouver and a trip out to Capilano Canyon. If you want to cross the suspension bridge the cost will be $25 and the tour lasts all day. I’m up for that.

I then set about doing my laundry as I had exhausted my supply of shirts. Having got the machine loaded up I retired to the library to read for a while. After the drying was done – the clothes were dry enough to put on – I then headed for my room to sort out the mess I’d left in my locker.

When I got there I met my fellow roommates - The Geordies! These were three guys from Newcastle over here for a year on working visas. They were getting ready to go out on the town and had some music playing from their MP3 player – S&M by Metallica to be precise. “Do you mind the music being on?” one of them asked, “Not at all, carry on” I replied. After a little chat I said “You’re not going to be out too late are you lads?” They looked a little anxious until I said “I am taking the piss, have a great time!” Ice broken, laughs all round and introductions were made – Adam, Michael & Steve all met Phil – the Southern Woss (my terminology) – “nah, yoor alreet” was the consensus – apologies for not being able to type Geordie, it certainly confused the spell checker. I retired to the library to do some more reading while they finished getting ready, for no other reason than to give them more space to do so. I was just standing about outside having a smoke when they all left. I said cheerio & wished them all a good time to which they replied “There are some beers in the room – help yourself to them if you want.” Nice guys.
I turned in reasonably early as I wanted to be up for breakfast before starting Erik’s tour at 9:00 the next morning.

I hear the lads come in about 2:00; they were giggling & taking the piss out of each other in good natured manner. They did not make loads of noise but the main reason I woke up was that I wanted a pee. I lay there for a while until they all got settled down and it all went quiet. As I had a top bunk I was quietly trying to get to the floor by holding on to this dividing partition at the bottom of the bed. It was obviously not designed for this sort of manoeuvre – and indeed had been employed as such before – as I managed to pull the thing out of the wall (only one screw & rawl plug) and as I let it go it crashed back against the wall making more noise than all three of them had! “Sorry if I woke you lads up” I said to which they all dissolved into fits of laughter. I escaped to the toilet.
When I returned all was quiet and I went straight back to sleep.

Banff to Kamloops

Having got to Banff station – it was bloody cold – I received my boarding card (Coach CB09 Seat 72) and waited for the train. Standing about outside having a smoke I was joined by another of my fellow lepers – Steph, an Aussie lady from Adelaide. We were chatting about various things, travels, Banff and the Japanese, when her travelling companion Kate joined us. Kate was a Pohm but has now become an Aussie and lives on the other side of Adelaide from Steph. She very kindly went and got us all coffees whilst we boosted nicotine levels for the journey. The ladies had booked the Red Leaf service for the journey whilst I had opted for the Gold Leaf service – which basically meant I got a seat in the observation car (big windows and glass roof) and a hot freshly prepared silver service meal in the dining car. After a bit of piss taking about the “upper class” we separated to board our respective coaches. Mine just happened to be the last of the train – which meant I got some pretty good views from the vestibule at the back of the rails we had just used, plus an uninterrupted panoramic view of the scenery when there wasn’t a big fat American head in the way.

The dining car was the lower deck of the coach we were seated in but couldn’t accommodate everyone at once. This was no problem as they just did it in two sittings. Having had a light breakfast at the hotel before leaving I was very grateful to be in the second sitting for breakfast, which was served almost as soon as we started to move. (Tomorrow the sitting order will be reversed – so I’ll be in first sitting.)

Breakfast was rather good and I spent it with a couple from Yorkshire (sorry, names forgotten because I didn’t write them down) who thought my world trip was just fantastic. I had a feeling I might have made a wise decision in doing it; I am certainly enjoying it so far.

Lunch was taken with Robert & Sherrill from USA. Robert seemed most interested in what I’d been doing for a job and asked me several questions about systems design & testing, I thought I was having an interview. I must have passed it though because he kept talking to me and his wife, Sherrill, was thrilled at what I was doing and kept saying things like “wow, it must be so good to be that free” and “oh gee, to have given up all that material baggage must have been amazing”, I took these to be compliments of sorts – because I’ll take any I can get.

The train journey from Banff to Kamloops was rather spectacular, especially as we passed through the Spiralling Tunnels or “a hole in the rock” which means we actually passed underneath two mountains! (Mount Cathedral & Mount Ogden if you can’t remember – there will be a test later.)
We had stops at Field and Revelstoke to change engineers. The engineers on the trains are drivers and the equivalent of land pilots (as in piloting ships through difficult waters, not flying planes) as they only work a 125 mile stretch of track. This track though they know like the back of their hand and are kept updated of any hazards or difficulties on the tracks ahead.

I could rattle off loads of names of the places & viewpoints we passed through, but that would just be name dropping and meaningless to the reader unless equipped with a map. I have got a map of the route we followed but with no means to scan it I can’t post it on the blog – also in shrinking & converting it, it would probably be illegible. I will just have to get out of it by saying: “map available by request.”
One point of note was when we passed through Craigellachie which was the place where the last spike was driven home to complete the Canadian Pacific Railway. Another point of interest was at the 114.5 mile marker (yes although Canada is fully metric, sensible people, the railway markers are still in miles because it would cost a few million dollars to replace them all with kilometre markers) where the last train robbery in Canada was conducted. Bill Miner and his gang, (Mr. Useless would be apt) got away with the equivalent of £1.50, a pen and a cough sweet. They were captured within a few days! Great Train Robbers eat your heart out. (The actual amount was $15 and a handful of liver pills!)

Another point of note was all the telegraph poles alongside the track. These extended from Toronto (well, beyond that but I didn’t see them) right through to Vancouver. They are all disused now as they have just run fibre optic cables alongside the track and have very good radios. In the easily accessible places they have been removed & recycled, but, at a cost of $500 per pole to remove this too would run to millions if they did the whole route. For simplicity we will skate over the question of accessibility for the ones in canyons & alongside steep drops – of which there were lots!

We arrived in Kamloops just before 19:00 – having gained an hour when we crossed from Alberta into British Columbia – at the end of what was quite a long day. Kamloops derives its name from the Shuswap Indian meaning “meeting of the waters” as it is where the North and South Thompson rivers meet. It also houses the tribal headquarters of the Shuswap people.

I can’t comment too much on Kamloops as, in fairness, it was only an overnight stop and by the time we arrived there it was dusk. All I really saw was a sprawling town on the drive from the station to my hotel. The town sprawls because it can, it has abundant space all around it and so it has spread out and not up. Also as I was staying in a Holiday Inn one can deduce that it was not in the best part of town as it was situated in an industrial park and surrounded by a big version of the tacky horrible “trading estates” one gets in the UK. A prime example is the one at Southend Airport – you know they all contain McMurders, Carpet Right, Bed Land (or some equivalent) and a handful of other obligatory shite-shops like Pet Land, Staples & PC World. The only difference with this one was that it was larger and contained more of them. One can certainly see what the anti-globalisation campaigners are getting at: soon there will be the format high street which conforms to a worldwide template of: McMurders, Starfucks, Klan Fried Cat, Sub(standard)Way, Burger Krap, Tacky Bell, Pizza-Piss, and a few others I can’t be bothered with. The only thing needed now is to agree what the layout will be and Robert is your mother or father’s brother. Something for the next G8 summit perhaps?

I checked in, booked my dining reservation for 21:00, dumped my bits and promptly got on the Internet as there was a free connection. Had to tear myself away in order to get to the restaurant – a Tandouri Express would you believe? Whilst I was eating my meal Robert, the guy I’d met at lunch on the train was just leaving and we got chatting. He seemed quite keen to chat to me and was asking me about my previous job and what sort of experience or qualifications I had. We chatted about software development principles and the American economy, its threat from the growth of the Chinese economy and a few other things. He eventually bade me goodnight and I then had my desert. By this time I was the last one left in the restaurant. After finishing my meal I then got back on the Interweb to catch up on emails, Rugby World Cup (don’t ask me why – it can only bring pain), football (Southend won again – hoorah) and bring the blog vaguely up to date (at the time).

After another late night I was up and ready on time for the coach pick up to take us to the station for our final leg into Vancouver. Another advantage with the Gold Leaf service is that my rucksack is delivered to and collected from my room for me so I didn’t need to lug that about. I grabbed a coffee for breakfast and didn’t bother with the continental breakfast on offer as it consists mainly of horrible sweet sickly things and I was going to get real food on the train (first sitting this time remember).

[Here’s a question: As I’m on a different continent, why isn’t the “continental breakfast” different? Is “continental breakfast” really a misnomer for “stupid croissant and loads of rancid sugar laden sweet things”? If this is the same worldwide why isn’t it called “trans-continental” or “worldwide” breakfast? Answers on a postcard, please.]

At breakfast I met Phil & Ann, a couple from Bermuda. Phil was a really interesting guy as he was an official with the Bermudan Sports Commission and attached to the IOC (International Olympic Committee in case you didn’t know) and in that capacity had been all over the world checking out “things Olympic”. After the train journey he was going to stay in Vancouver “on business” as Vancouver and Whistler are hosting the 2010 Winter Olympic Games. We had a right laugh and Ann left us to carry on chatting after she had finished breakfast. We eventually got thrown out in order to make way for the next sitting. We resumed at lunch and Phil was saying how envious he was of my opportunity to do what I am doing – unfortunately for him Ann is not that adventurous. Anyway, we got thrown out again as we were the last ones of our sitting left! We still had a laugh though – especially as we both got lovely photographs of concrete pillars as we were going through the rock sheds opposite Hell’s Gate. I think we managed to get some pictures of Hell’s Gate too.

I will explain a bit about snow & rock sheds. These are large “lean-tos” which butt up to the rock face and have a sloped roof over the rails. These basically do what they say on the tin and shield the tracks from rock or snow slides. They are built at the places of least resistance where the rock faces are loose and where falling rock or snow will find its natural path. Some of them are like small tunnels. They were very easy to see at work when we passed though Black Canyon as the roofs were still covered with black powder rock. Black Canyon by the way is exactly that: a canyon of black desolate rock. It looked like a landscape from a different planet – amazing to see.

As we passed through these rock sheds in “Avalanche Alley” we came to the point where the Thompson and Fraser Rivers meet. The Thompson River is glacial fed and therefore has the characteristic blue/green colour from the rock flour in it. The Fraser is a runoff river which is very strong and carries large quantities of clay-like silt and is brown in colour. When the two of them meet there is a dividing line between them and it takes approximately 4 kilometres for the two waters to mix as the Fraser River continues into Vancouver.

When we got into Vancouver a small fleet of coaches were waiting to take various people to their respective hotels. I found the one I required, got on and as I was wandering up the isle got a “Hello Phil, how was upper class then?” It was Steph. Her & Kate were staying in the same hotel so we had a chat on the way and then arranged to meet up for some dinner. Steph had lived in Vancouver for six months, but that was thirty years ago, and, “bloody hell, everything’s changed but the street names!”

Having got checked in we agreed a time to meet and set off to our respective rooms. My good old trusty rucksack was waiting for me when I opened the door to my small maisonette. It had a cooker, microwave, kitchen sink & cutlery – I could have prepared my own meals if I was bothered.

We met up at the appointed time and we set off in search of food. Having hit Robson Street we settled on a lovely restaurant advertising “salmon five different ways” for $20.

We had a lovely meal and some good conversation and laughs. The ladies gave me their email addresses and asked me to keep them up to date on my travels. Also when I hit Aus, if I am in Adelaide I have places to stay (Steph: “as long as you don’t mind my dog”) and the offer of guided tours.
After eating our fill, plus desert, we headed back to the hotel in order to turn in.
The hotel had Internet access (they even supplied the cable) so I set about using it until I almost fell asleep on the keyboard – then I went to bed.

Banff

Today we had a half-day tour of Banff, which is a quaint and pleasant little town with a population of 7500 which rises to 10500 in the height of tourist season. It is not surprising why it is so popular. It has a charm and beauty to it and is surrounded by even more beauty and stunning scenery. Every other shop is a gift or craft shop, or an outdoor pursuits equipment shop. These cater for skiers, snowboarders, mountain bikers, skateboarders, hikers, walkers, campers – but no hunters! All the streets are named after animals; Muskrat St., Moose St., Lynx St., etc., apart from the main road running all the way through it, which is Banff Street.
Waiting for the bus I noticed the thermometer on the hotel porch way was showing 2C – and it felt it – so it was a good job I was wearing my Southend United woolly hat!

Our first stop was the Cave & Basin. This is the historic site where three rail workers found a near equivalent to liquid gold – hot sulphur springs! After staking a claim on it and turning it into a heath resort the government decided water was not a commodity one could claim and took it away from them – they did pay them $675 each, which was enough for them to retire on at the time. The other claim to fame for this particular spot came later on – in the 1920’s in fact – as the habitat for the Banff Springs Snail. This is the only place in the world where it is found and still survives. I did get a couple of pictures of one, but it was safely underwater crawling across a rock and very small. The basin is a small rectangular pool approximately 10 centimetres deep and was the original pool built when the health resort first took off. The cave was exactly that with a small bubbling rock pool at the end of it and smelling very strongly of sulphur. The pool is fed from an underground spring and has a temperature of 47C.

After departing the cave & basin we headed up to the Banff Gondola. This is a mightily impressive piece of machinery and was North Americas first two cable lift. The cables are just over a mile in length and it takes 8 minutes to get from bottom to top, or vice versa. The view going up is amazing and from the top it is stupendous. Where some of the clouds where lying low in the valleys one could look down on them from the observation post. It was breathtaking (almost literally due to the altitude) to just walk around the rooftop observation area getting a full 360 degree view of the world! Going down was quite fun as well, as I got a whole car to myself.

The next stop was Bow Falls. This, apparently, is the second most photographed spot in Canada – yes, you guessed it, after Niagara Falls. It is very picturesque and gushes white water over a tumble of rocks strewn between two sheer rock banks. It almost frames itself, which also makes it very easy to photograph.

Our penultimate stop was Surprise Corner. This is so named because it is a 270 degree turn around a blind bend – hence the surprise! One doesn’t know what is just around the bend until one gets there, be it pedestrian, moose, or bear. It does also offer a superb view of the Banff Springs Hotel across the valley.
Our last stop was The Hoodoos. These are a set of wind eroded stone pillars which resemble a small group of people huddled together and watching over the valley below. The First Nation people believed them to be spirit watchers of the land – hence the name.

After this we had the choice of being transported to our hotels or dropped off in downtown Banff. As my hotel was a ten minute stroll form downtown I elected for the latter.

As I have said the downtown part of Banff Street – both road & pavement (or pavement & side walk) are being totally resurfaced & renovated so the whole thing is closed off to vehicular traffic, and cordoned off to pedestrians, which leaves an uneven surface alongside all the shops much restricted in width. The reason I detail this is to set the scene for:-

*WARNING* Racist slur about to occur. The easily offended should skip the next two paragraphs.

Now, I would like to make some very true – because I have experienced these more than three times, and had them confirmed and amplified by others I have mentioned it to – observations about the Japanese. I exclude Masa from this slur on his country folk because he didn’t display any of these – possibly because he was on his own and not affected by the pack mentality. The Japanese tourists are the most arrogant, ignorant and oblivious in the world. They have absolutely no special awareness at all! They do not have a clue about what is going on around them, only in front of them or their camera lenses! The “yellow peril” travel in packs (quite often they have a whole tour bus to themselves) and descend on any tourist/beauty spot like locusts. They emerge from the bus door in a swarm jabbering away and make a direct line for whatever vantage point or viewing platform has been created for people to enjoy. They then colonise it by jostling, pushing, or just interposing themselves between anyone else who was there and whatever barrier there might be to hold people back safely from a potential hazard. [I am ashamed to say that on more than one occasion I was hoping for some “engineering failure” to cause the barriers to dissolve, give way or otherwise collapse in order to get an uninterrupted photo-opportunity back!] There then begins the ritual dance of photographing each other in front of the said beauty spot – whose peace has been destroyed by the constant yammering coming from them all (and we thought Americans didn’t know when to shut up) and it is then that one begins to realise what a harsh and guttural sounding language Japanese is. In a nutshell: one gets very pissed off with them very quickly!

After suffering multiple patience testing; stopping suddenly in front of one, barging out of shops into oncoming pedestrians, barging across ones path to get into a shop, spinning around in an arc trying to get their bearings (or to spot another kamikaze unit to link up with) being unaware or uncaring of what the huge backpack behind is colliding with, just milling around blocking the limited pathway to have a loud conversation with your fellow invaders, being unable to talk on a cancer ‘phone whilst walking and see in a forwards direction (true of most people using cancer ‘phones in the street – but the Japs have made this an art form) and being able to completely stop a flow of pedestrians in both directions at once! I then encountered another of these blockages. People either side of me where tutting at the “Little Yellow Wall” but I had had enough. Saying “excuse me” in a very load voice I extended an arm into the Emperor’s Children stepped forward and pushed a bunch of them aside! It must have been a bit like that fiction story about the Red Sea – except this was yellow – but it did work. The rest of the Pacific Fleet followed me through! I am rather ashamed of this in hindsight, but at the time I was bloody annoyed – not to mention hungry – and had already had dress rehearsals at Emerald Lake, Natural Bridge and Bow Falls. They also have no respect for peace and quiet.

Anyway, after enjoying a nice lunch I decided to go in search of The Whyte Museum which details the lives of Peter & Catherine Whyte. This was a lovely love story which resulted in a local boy from Banff and medal winning ski jumper (Peter) meeting and falling for a debutante in Chicago (Catherine) and bringing her to his home town which she fell in love with, as well as Peter, and became a very integral part of. They did some wonderful things putting Banff on the map and became fully integrated with the First Nations tribes of the area. It was most interesting and, needless to say, I had to get thrown out when the museum closed. (It’s alright this didn’t happen forcibly – I just used all the time available!)

After this it was back to the hotel in time to get all my things packed up ready for the train journey to Kamloops. It was going to be an early start (set alarm for 6:00) so I wanted to get an early night. As it was I started updating my blog documents and downloading my photographs, so it turned out to be quite a late night. And I had to get Spank in from the tree outside. I made the mistake of letting him out on the balcony and he just had to have a swing in the trees!

All packed up and ready to go I crawled into bed.

Yoho & Banff

Having said a fond farewell to Lake Louise it was time to move on to Banff. This was done by way of visiting Yoho National Park. This got its name from the Cree word “yoho” meaning excellent, superb, or wonderful. It certainly was that.

We crossed the Continental Divide into British Columbia and Yoho National Park. Our first stop was at the Spiral Tunnels. These were constructed based on a Swiss model to reduce the gradient on the Trans-Canada Railway and actually tunnel through two distinct rock formations (Cathedral Mountain & Mount Ogden) twice each creating a switch-back affair – I will be able to see these from the rails in a few days when I go to Kamloops. The original gradient was 4.5% because Canadian Pacific Railways were under extreme pressure to finish the line – this, by the way, was more than twice the allowed limit of 2%, but they got special dispensation just to get the thing finished. However, this couldn’t last because they would need at least three locomotives to get up the gradient (this was steam days remember) and had loads of runaway trains coming down it – for obvious reasons. It was another reason they set up a hotel in Banff, so they could off-load the passengers to eat, etc. as they couldn’t run extra carriages for dining cars. Anyway it was quite a feat of engineering and the tunnels required constant maintenance especially in the winter. This was because steam from the engines would freeze in the tunnels and form huge stalactites which would damage passing trains – yes they got that big! Anyhow, from the viewing platform – where there is a very informative display (as you might have guessed) – they just look like holes in a cliff with rails coming out of them, which is exactly what they are! (More Yank bashing: “Gee you mean all we’re looking at is a hole in the rock.” Yes sir that is what a tunnel is!)

Moving on, we travelled alongside the Kicking Horse River – it got its name rather literally when one of the survey teams was trying to get his horse to cross the river. It objected and kicked the man in the chest (I can’t remember his name). We got to Emerald Lake which really it isn’t, it is more aquamarine but we won’t quibble over it. Not only is it beautiful but famous – for fossils. The name of the man escapes me (it has been a few days and I’ve slept at least once) but he found some fossils whilst digging about in the mountains alongside Emerald Lake and the Something Shale (if I had Internet access I would have filled in the name) was found to contain hundreds of different fossilised species and is still regarded as one of the most important archaeological finds today. We finished up taking a look at Natural Bridge which is exactly what it is. It is also a very good example of how nature – especially the force of water – works. The glaciers, which break up rock themselves, produce huge quantities of melt water which obviously flows downhill. This brings with it all the loose stuff from the moraines and turns into a natural flow of grinding paste. Any soft rock gets eroded quicker than the harder rock which in turn forms an easier flow through the hole it’s made – hence more grinding paste can come through it. Eventually the tunnel will collapse and form a gorge. Anyway elementary geology is over for the day – although when one can actually see it happening, and its results, it is rather interesting.
And so to Banff which gets its name from Banffshire in Scotland. This was because several of the railway workers living in the tented village created by Canadian Pacific came from Banffshire, so they shortened it and the name stuck.

I checked into my hotel, freshened up a bit and went in search of dinner. Having wandered through downtown Banff, which is being re-paved & resurfaced at the moment, I found The Keg a lovely little steakhouse as I felt in the mood for dead animal cooked to perfection. This is what I got, and very nice it was too. Whilst waiting for my starter the waitress brought me “some bread” which was wildly inaccurate as it was a small loaf! I kid you not; I could place both my hands (side by side) on it and it still protruded on both sides. I did the best I could but couldn’t eat all of it. Meal finished I returned to my hotel at a leisurely pace and had a very good night’s sleep – with no fire alarms.

Tomorrow we have an explore Banff tour.

Lake Louise

Thought this would deserve an entry all by itself especially as the place & hotel are so marvellous.

I have already waxed lyrical about the comforts of the hotel – it is referred to as a five star hotel in a six star setting, very true – so I will just concentrate on attempting to describe one of the most beautiful places on Earth. This isn’t just my opinion though, it is held by many, but I do share it. It really is a place that has to be seen to be believed, it is wonderful.

The lake gets its colour from the rock flour suspended in it and this changes during the year, especially when the lake freezes as it does every year. It would be wonderful to see this place through every season just to see how different it can look. I have seen photographs but we all know how different a natural location can be from a photograph. I was also surprised to find out that this is the highest altitude residential resort in Canada. (Yes of course one gets up higher when skiing or mountain climbing – but one doesn’t stay there.) They were even informing people of the symptoms of altitude sickness, fortunately I didn’t suffer from any, although the Andes are a little higher than here so I won’t speak too soon.

Having showered (one could hold a small party in the shower cubicle – in fact it was possible to stand in it with the shower going and not get wet) and breakfasted I thought I would catch up with the “Lakeside Stroll” the hotel offered. This was a gentle stroll around the near end of the lake with a guide who pointed out all the claims to fame & interesting bits pertaining to Lake Louise and its surrounding mountains. It was really informative and worth doing, so I was pleased I did. After this I thought I would do the lake walk. The lake is 2 Km long and about 0.5 Km wide, although with the effect of altitude and the thinness of the air the lake doesn’t look as long as it is. As a perspective the thickest layer one can see on the Victoria Glacier (the bits that look like icing on a cake) is 300m thick – about nine times the height of the hotel! When I got to the end of the lake there is the river feeding it to explore. So in true schoolboy fashion I imagined I was a pioneer explorer finding the source of the lake and set off over the broken rocks alongside the roaring white water – the water is white, from the rock sediment in it, and does roar, because it is flowing over large rocks & stones thrown down the mountain by avalanches. [It’s alright I was only pretending; I know the source of the lake is Victoria Glacier about 500 meters above me – but I’m not daft enough to attempt to get there!] When I had gone as far as I thought was safe to go, I sat on a large rock, had a cigarette and took in the beauty of the surroundings, and then set off back to the hotel.

When I got back I thought I would make use of the facilities at my disposal, so I went down to the gym had a gentle work out and then sat in the superb steam room for half an hour – glorious! Feeling much refreshed I then set about downloading all my photographs, so far, onto my laptop and putting them in folders so I would know what they were & where they came from. I got so engrossed in this that it was 10:00 and I was getting hungry before I knew it. As all the main restaurants shut at ten I was left with the Glacier Saloon to dine in which is open until 2:00. I toddled off down there got seated ordered a beer (I have grown quite partial to Rickards Red) and some food. My starter duly arrived and whilst I was enjoying it a bunch of drunken load people came in – no problem I come from Essex, if there was a binge-drinking county championships Essex would definitely be in the top three if not first. I had made the mistake of choosing a quiet table off to one side, but sadly, near the pool table – which was deserted when I arrived. I will be kind to the Canadians, as they have been good hoists to me so far, and call them Americans (they had loud twangy accents). *Sexist warning which may cause offense* The lead dog was a tall willowy blonde in a cowboy hat, who would probably ride anything after enough drinks, had a particularly painful voice. By this I literally mean painful as in causing pain. It was so loud and shrill that I understand wolf packs were migrating North that night. The last time I felt this sort of pain in my ears was at a Judas Priest gig at Hammersmith Odeon when rock diva Rob Halford (he of the amazing voice) did one of his super screams – however this was in a musical context and quite acceptable. The other problem was it just didn’t shut up. As this group numbered about twenty and all decided to play pool, I was not happy. I finished my starter in record time as this bunch of tosspots invaded my space – anyone who knows anything about me at all knows that “you don’t fuck with Phil when he’s eating”. People have been stabbed with forks for trying to steal chips off my plate. I take food seriously, it is to be enjoyed, savoured and appreciated. Also after last night’s dinner I was looking forward to some good food and wanted to enjoy it. After the second clattering of my chair with a pool cue and the thought of the next bastard that does that gets turned into a popsicle – the waiter arrived. (In the meantime the nice couple having a quiet meal diagonally opposite me had moved tables when their main courses arrived – smart move.) He asked if I would like to move to another table to instantly get the response: “Most certainly!” [I thank my mother for the “able to cut through steel plate and/or kill with a look” gene along with the ability to give the nastiest evil black clouded storm a human face.] And so I moved. Unfortunately the only available table at the other side of the room was in a corner and accompanied by two armchairs. This left the table at just below shoulder height when seated so I could have just cut my food into pieces, placed my chin on the table and scraped it directly into my mouth. Tempted though I was – I didn’t. I did however eat it as fast as possible and got out as the noise and shrieks from the she-wolf were beginning to make me feel violent. (I have to admit – if I am being honest, and I am – I was fighting the temptation to just walk over there and punch her in the throat. It is a despicable thing to even think – but I did – I am ashamed to say.) The waiter was also very aware of how angry I was without me saying a word and was particularly obsequiously arse-licky in his apologies and apparent concern as to my happiness, well-being and enjoyment of my meal. Needless to say I resisted the temptation to put “don’t fuck with me when I’m eating” in the “tip” section of the bill – I can’t write that small.

[Interlude: This leads me onto another soap box. The tip, gratuity, or “paying someone for something they are already being paid to do”. Discuss. I will. Let me start with a question: “How well can you carry a plate, say 10m, and put it down on a flat surface, say a table?” In what manner can the carrying be said to enhance the contents of the plate or its quality? Answer: None. If one were a waiter with three missing limbs and one managed to carry a bowl of soup without spilling a drop to the designated flat surface, I would call that impressive – but then perhaps one should be seeking alternative employment in the entertainments industry, say a circus. It still wouldn’t enhance the flavour or enjoyment of the soup however. If one were an obsequious toady volunteering one’s tongue as toilet paper substitute, would that enhance the flavour and/or enjoyment of a meal? No, I go to eating houses to eat and enjoy a meal not to be entertained or impressed by a plate carrier. Therefore I have to ask again: what is this tip for? In most “civilised” countries there is a minimum wage (we’ve even got one in the UK now) which will apply to any unskilled job. How much skill is required to carry a plate? None, basic balance and hand/eye coordination will do. So why are we, the customer, made to feel obliged to pay 10%+ more for the food we are being brought on a plate by the person who is paid to take customers the food they ordered on a plate? Where did this stupid idea come from? America is the obvious answer – so the Yanks had better watch out because skin-flint Phil is about to hit their country! Am I being tight or just raising a valid question? I would appreciate some feedback on this as I am beginning to feel that I should feel guilty for not paying over the odds for something I am happy to purchase for an advertised price. (Beware in Canada – I believe it is the same in the US – the price advertised does not include GST unless it says so!) This leads me to another point: the number of fast food places which have a “tips” container on the counter! What for? They didn’t even carry a plate anywhere! To me this is shame-robbery, i.e. one is being robbed of money for some implied shame. A perfect example is the in-room dining service offered at Chateau Lake Louise. Whatever one orders will have a $4 charge added to it plus an 18% gratuity - and I bet when the little bastard brings it up to your door he or she will expect some money as well! What for? Are your employers paying you? Yes. Then why should the customer pay you for doing your job as well? The answer is: they shouldn’t and we should all stop doing it now! Another laugh was on the bill for my buffet breakfast which had the “Tip” section on it as well – after filling it up myself I carried the fucking plate myself to my own table! Did they give me a 10% discount for this? No. Ah, I think I see it now: I should have taken some money out of one of my pockets and put it in a different one! Hey presto – one tip! I thank you and goodnight. (That’ll be a 10% handling charge sir.)]

Anyhow, I returned to my suite feeling bloated and annoyed but tired nonetheless as it was 13:30. I had terrible indigestion in the night and was not feeling very relaxed when at 6:50am this gong noise issued from the lounge. It didn’t startle me awake but it definitely got my attention. This was followed by an announcement: “Attention. The fire alarm has been sounded. We are currently investigating the cause of the alarm and will inform you shortly.” By this time I was fully dressed and heading for the stairs. On the way out there were a load of Japanese guests all getting ready to check out, which was obvious from the fact that they had all their luggage in the corridor awaiting pick up. They seemed totally unfazed by the whole affair and were carefully arranging their suitcases, etc. into well ordered piles, stacks & lines (perhaps it is some ancient Japanese art form I am unaware of) and drifting in and out of each other’s rooms. I think I was the only one who actually bothered evacuating the building – I was certainly the only one standing outside the door I came out of! As one might have expected; it was a false alarm. By this time though I was awake and the sun was rising on Victoria Glacier. I returned to my room, got my camera, and went back outside to take some photographs.
As this was my check out day I had packed my deluxe luggage ready for the bell staff to collect and was all set to go by 8:00. As we weren’t being picked up until 13:30, and check out time was noon, I decided to have a relaxing bath – so I did. After checking out I sat in one of the couches scattered about the hotel (there are many) and read my book. I did doze off a bit, but didn’t miss my pickup.

And so I bid a fond farewell to Lake Louise. It will sound odd, I know, but I had this feeling I would miss it – the lake and the scenery around it. I know I had only been there two days but I suppose that is what happens when something makes an impression on one’s soul. I defy anyone to go there and not remember it forever after – I know I shall.