Happiness in its many disguises

The train arrived an hour early Wednesday morning to a cold and rainy Vancouver. I was nervous because I had scant information on the person I'd be staying with, and after a phone call to my mother, I made my way to a Starbucks located across the street from Pacific Central Station. I received word from Katie, the female portion of the couple I planned to stay with, that she'd be in California for the duration of my trip, and if I was weirded out with the idea of staying alone with her fiance, she'd understand. I was weirded out, but I figured I'd give meeting him a shot and let my intuition be my guide. So I hopped onto the SkyTrain.

The transit system in Vancouver is easy, efficient, extensive, and good-looking (what a catch!). It's also entirely automated. There is no collector in a toll booth, or conductor on the train. There's some master computer somewhere running the show. The fare is reasonably priced as well. A passenger pays more or less depending on how far they are going. There are three zones, ranging from $2.50 for transit downtown, to $5.00 for the suburbs and outer-lying areas. Best of all, each ticket offers its holder an unlimited amount of transit time for an hour and a half, meaning you can get on and off as you please without paying another fare. It's like having a Metropass for a hot minute without spending the $121 that mostly goes down the train (a relevant typo).

I met Keith outside of his apartment building downtown on Vancouver's West End. We went up to the 16th floor and entered the one-bedroom suite where I dropped my stuff into a corner and admired the view from the living room window. It was like beholding a three dimensional map before our eyes, which came in handy when Keith explained to me the perimeters of downtown. He had left his work to meet me and had to go back, so we left at noon and agreed to be back around 4:30. After meeting him, I decided he was nice, courteous, totally in love with his fiance, and that I would stay the night after all. It was a good decision, considering the couple are also the proud owners of the most adorable dog in the world, Magoo. When I was feeling sad, he'd crawl into my lap and make it all better.



I didn't feel like shopping or checking out Robson Street so I headed toward Stanley Park, the phone attached to my head. I sat on the sand of English Bay that murky morning, crying my eyes out. Something beautiful had ended, a cycle completed on that beach, and I found myself suddenly alone and single in a place I'd never been. A few very helpful and healing conversations later, I ventured into the forest of trees hundreds of years old, the trees that had fallen and the trees that grew on top of them, given life because of them. Four hours I wandered, reflecting on my life and how it had changed so much in two days, so abruptly. But I suppose I've always liked change.

Because Keith was home alone and Katie had the only extra key, I had to leave when he left to go to work. The next day I was up and at 'em at 7:20 AM, and by 7:35 I was out the door. I decided to walk down a residential street before hitting the main line because I like houses and am curious about west coast architecture. I liked what I saw.




It was on Robson Street that I saw three Cafe Crepes, all visible if I stood in a particular spot, crooked my neck, and squinted real hard. But why would I? Their proximity to each other was a turn off and I didn't want to go anywhere near them, so I kept my distance from the marble slats and red neon Eifle Towers. I'm sure the Toronto location is far superior anyway, if it's even a possibility. Enough about work! I'm on vacation!

At any rate, I was spending a lot of time inside other cafes jacking internet and keeping warm and dry. When I felt ready to venture out again, I needed something to eat, and a place called "Excellent Sushi" sounded promising, if not a bit overcompensating. I took a chance with some yam tempura rolls.


That price. I knew for a fact that a place that called their sushi "excellent" and offered $2.25 rolls could statistically NOT BE GOOD, and I was right. The miso soup was lackluster, and the green salad bland. But the bill? $6.00. I can't remember the last time I spent that much at a sushi restaurant. I was full and my wallet remained so. I'd say it was a fair investment.

My skin had been acting up since the train ride and especially bothered me when I looked into a cafe bathroom mirror - when did it get so red and blotchy, when did I become ugly? I knew what I wanted. I walked towards the apartment and happened upon a salon called Juju that offered skin consultations. I looked in... interesting looking people cutting hair, amused looking people sitting in chairs... I opened the door and entered.

I talked to a beautiful young blonde woman about my skin in a small back room used for facials (NOT those kind. I know it's the gayborhood, but geez). I learned more in that sitting than I had during any other conversations with an aesthetician. I'm interested in natural remedies, stuff that is gentle, stuff that works. This woman explained to me that the honey and ground-oat cleanser I'd been using was probably too abraisive because the oats were not perfectly circular like our pores are, so they irritate the skin instead of cleansing it. I asked her to give me a facial and she graciously squeezed me and my zits into her schedule. The experience was heavenly - my face was less red than when I came in (the sign of a good facial) and I didn't want to crawl into a ball and hide in the corner when I saw my reflection. Another sign that it's been a good facial.

I asked her if I could also get my hair cut. The post-break-up haircut. Classic. "I'd like it cut short, really short," I told the stylist. She promptly answered "No," and we came to a compromise of shoulder-length proportions. She later invited me to the Furniture Warehouse for drinks with her friends if I was interested (yes, it's bar, not the western division of United Furniture Warehouse Doo-Doo!). Even the owner, upon hearing that I was only passing through, invited me to a club in Chinatown, and gave me his number for good measure. I thought, these people are nice people. I like this place.

I stayed another night at Keith's place planning to leave for Vancouver Island the next day. I had some business to take care of at the local clinic which opened at 9:00, so after struggling in the first place to find the place, I tapped a woman on the shoulder and asked her its location. She kindly told me it was a block 'that way' which meant I had already passed it. I backtracked and spotted it, walking to the beach to write out postcards and pass the morning dawn away. A man with a white beard, a fisher hat, and a button that read "Ask Me!" was packing his bag a few benches away when he said, "Writing your memoires already?" "Better start now," I told him. We then discussed the sights and sounds of Vancouver. I told him I hadn't gone shopping yet, so he offered me the usual list of malls and stores that are basically the same in every "developed" city and town around the world. I told him I was interested in thrift stores. "Well, there's a good one over at Denman Mall a couple blocks from here. It's run by seniors, and the stuff is nice, if a little bit expensive. I think it's worth it though." I had a feeling I could trust the aesthetic taste of a west coast madam so I made it my mission to go. He also told me that Captain Jean-Luc Picard lived at one point in the condominum with the tree on its roof, and that it was placed there in commemoration of the old trees cut down for the sake of development. This one's for you Heather - I heard you love a tree on a roof.



I recieved my prescription at the Shopper's Drug Mart across the street, conveniently attached to the aforementioned Denman Mall. After I found the store I sat on a bench close-by and took the first dose of my medication. A woman tapped me on the shoulder. "Did you find the clinic alright?" the sweet lady from the morning asked. "Yes! Thank you!" I said, surprised. "When you're finished, come into my store over here, I manage it." None other than the thrift store itself did she manage - and I knew it was meant to be.

My haul: a big yellow handwoven sweater, a brown pleated silk skirt, a cool belt, a pair of earrings, two bags of buttons, and a book called Dr. Boston's De Luxe Official Bartender's Guide published in 1951. It is as amazing as it sounds. I figured as I brought my findings to the cash that it would likely add up to something between $35-$40 and expressed my fears that I did not have enough money to pay her in bills (as they did not take debit or credit). She said, "We usually offer discounts if you're buying more than one thing anyway," which was reassuring. One dollar here, two dollars here, another dollar - "how about fourteen dollars?" she says. Wow, okay! She even gave me a tote bag to carry it all in. She was real nice. These people are nice.

I had asked her for a recommendation of a breakfast joint nearby, and she suggested Acacia for some fillo. I didn't even know what fillo was but I trusted her and treked across the street with my big backpack and new tote bag. I ordered a spinach and feta fillo and found out that it's kind of like quiche except instead of pie crust, the egg and fillings are wrapped in pastry. Delicious.



For desert I ordered the matcha creme brule which was interesting, in addition to being tasty.



A few hours more at that cafe and I was off to find the ferry to Vancouver Island. I took the SkyTrain to Bridgeport station where I entered a double bus (with the acordian in the middle) and felt surprise and a strange reassurance upon seeing all these backpackers with their big backpacks on their laps and on the floor. They made up 75% of the bus. I felt a kinship with a group of people I hadn't before.

After the hour-long bus ride, we arrived at Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal, bought our tickets, and boarded the big-little cruise ship. This wasn't no Toronto Islands ferry. Two floors of cars lined the bottom of the boat, while gift shops, buffets, food courts, arcades, and a plethora of moderately-spaced coushy seats made up the passenger decks. Friday was the first sunny day Vancouver had seen after a long spell of cold, rainy days so I like many others decided to spend the duration of the ride outside on deck.




It was out there that I met Trisha, a lovely girl of similar age interested in science, trains, and my backpack. She planned to drive to Tofino on Monday for a work-related vacation, and I don't know who said it first - whether she asked me to come or if I begged to let me join her - but we're going to Tofino together on Monday. We exchanged numbers, and today she called me because she was going to the beach with her roommate. Would I be interested in joining them? Does a clock tick clockwise? Yes, I think so! And off we went.



I don't think I've ever sat on a beach prettier than this one in Victoria. The mountains in the background basically tip the scales of being a great beach to being an epicly awesome beach. The water was cold, yes, but Trisha and I dipped our toes in the Pacific. Cold becomes numb becomes cold again, and then you dive head first in the water to get it all over with. I can happily say that I swam in Pacific waters for the first time today, fully submerged in its frigid sea! I'm not sure why the salt suddenly in my mouth surprised me, but it did. I forgot about ocean swimming. We bore witness to some ocean rowing as well, this picture being the boats crossing the finish line:



And now I'm back at "home." I am the happy guest of Kate J's mother, the wonderful Jennifer, who has provided me with a comfortable bedroom, nutritious food, tasty wine, and great conversation. For our first dinner we made Greek salad together, corn-on-the-cob (my favourite), and toast, where I learned that in England most people prefer their toast cold and bone dry. They've even got cooling racks for their slices of toasted bread. You might be happy to hear (Ms. Katie Lee) that I indulged in some Marmite, that aquired taste of yeast extract. I am very happy here in Victoria, in this house, with this woman, amongst the trees, beaches, and bodies of water. I am happy to be on this trip, I am happy to be in a new place wherever I go.