Saturday was spent in a drive to Vancouver that wouldn't seem to end. The border crossing took 45 minutes and the border patrol agent wanted to know why I hesitated at his question of whether anyone in the car had been arrested. I wasn't sure no one had. I don't enjoy border crossings much.
Vancouver traffic seemed bad as we made our way to West Vancouver (fondly called West Van by some t-shirt that I saw) and our gorgeous accommodations next door (possibly?) to Elvis Costello. We had drinks at Tuc where we met Matt and Sharyn coming home from their Alaskan cruise. It was fun to see them again so soon and swap stories from our trips. Matt joined us for sushi and then we set off in search of another round of drinks. West Van was practically shut down. We finally located a tap room and they were slammed after a nearby concert had just concluded. The hostess was very apologetic, but for drinks the speed of service was a-ok. I very much did not enjoy my Backhand of God stout.
9/1- Kirsten and I went out to collect breakfast supplies while the West Van crew slept. Bri would not call this "sleeping in" but at least she got a fine dose of Kirsten's breakfast burrito when she did rise. We headed into Vancouver, rented two tandems and a city bike and rode around Stanley Park. It was a nice counter-clockwise ride, but rather crowded. We did manage to stop at Vancouver's most visited tourist attraction, the totem poles (according to Daimon). After we turned in our bikes, we had a picnic in Stanley Park or at least at its edges. From there we headed back into the synergy of Vancouver.
Vancouver did have an interesting mix of industry, nature, and cosmopolitan city feel, but it didn't seem to capture our imagination and hearts the way it had for Carlton when he told us about it at the Sylvia Beach Hotel. That didn't stop us from repeating "synergy" all around "the couv". (Nobody calls it that as far as I know.) We hit the shops in a market on Granville Island. They were unique, but we weren't in a buying mood. I spotted in a keychain at one store advertising a neon sign exhibit at the MOV (Museum of Vancouver). We headed there next. It was tough to find, but 45 minutes before closing time, Clare and I took in interesting exhibits on neon signs, street photographers, and sex while the others napped outside.
The neon signs exhibit was all I'd hoped it would be, detailing the fight to keep Vancouver beautiful in 1974 and the tidbit that neon signs in Vancouver were maintained by the city (not the business) and so there were many well-preserved signs in the museum.
The best part of the sex exhibit was what wasn't there. In a glass case of vibrators spanning the decades, the 70s and 80s were missing. The sign said that like toy museums, relics from that era are hard to come by (no pun intended) because of the prevalent use of cheap plastics.
The Foncie exhibit on street photographers was an interesting slice of history. In a time before many personal cameras, Foncie was taking millions of candid photos and selling them to people on the streets. The exhibit said that for some people, this was their only photograph. The styles and smiles through the years were telling and amusing.
From the MOV, we headed to Chinatown for dim sum and bakery goods. The coconut bun melted in mouths and vaulted to the culinary (and even perhaps trip) highlight reels. We had a beer in Yaletown at either The Hooker Green or the New Oxford and closed down the night with a gelato. I think Daimon won this round of food vs. exercise, but when my foot is healthy, I hope to return and strike a blow in my favor.
9/2- The border crossing took seconds in the early morning and we had time for a cup of coffee at Fuel after dropping D & K off. From there, it's been airport adventure all the way. From La Bufadora to West Van- that's a long trip, but a good one.
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