Vancouver part 2 (day 341)

Sometimes it rains in Vancouver. Actually, sometimes is probably an understatement. It rains a lot in Vancouver. My spies told me that it rains for five months of the year. That might be an overstatement. So somewhere in between might lie the truth. So let’s recap. It might rain in Vancouver somewhere between sometimes and five months of the year.

This puts a damper on my love affair with the city. Were I actually having a love affair in the city, it might have put a damper on that too. But I was not. So it did not.

There are, however, clearly lots of things to do. In the past week or so I have cycled around the city quite a lot (despite the guy trying to rip me off on the price), walked around a lot more of it, gone snowboarding twice (once at night even), and I would have gone once more except that I managed to miss the bus, I played Ultimate on the fake grass (with a cushion of water, no less) in the cold, I visited the aquarium (beluga whales, seals, a bunch of cool stuff about Lawrence Sound in Arctic Canada where lots of fish and things live), visited Science World (roller-coaster exhibit that involves cycling upside-down!, and lots of other cool stuff), wandered across and around the Lynn Canyon suspension bridge in the rain (I advise you to go there instead of to the Capilano Bridge, which is much longer, slightly higher, but infinitely more expensive to visit), and saw that Canadian musical institution Spirit of the West.

People who live here are also rather spectacular. They put me up for nothing, occasionaly fed me (and frequently on quite unusual things), often lent me incredibly helpful things like snowboards, bicycles, wet weather gear and books, and always entertained me. They put up with, without question or complaint, my pointless whinging about the weather (limitless), my unpredictable comings and goings (about the same number of each), my total inability to predict the next day’s adventures (about 10 days’ worth), my mattress on their floor (one, small, plus sleeping bag), my pile of washing and miscellaneous gear (one, large, some parts of it more noisome than others), and my inane and often totally off-topic conversation (hard to think how to measure this really).

Today I am off to Vancouver Island. No, Vancouver is not on the Island that has its name. That is a trap for young players. Here I am at the ferry terminal. Waiting for a ferry, surprisingly enough. With a few more of those helpful Canadian types.

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