Sunday, September 03, 2006

Vancouver

(I apologise for the length of this post, but I'm currently suffering insomnia and there's lots to say. Well done if you make it to the end!)

So, I’m off on my grand world adventure. It’s been a strange leadup, mostly because I’ve oscillated between ‘keen’ and ‘alarm’ on the scale of emotions. I haven’t felt infectious excitement or abject panic... yet.

Packing was very arduous. I wasn’t really worried until the day before I left, so I’d left all the packing until the last moment - literally. I figured there wasn’t actually much that I could take, so how long could it take to pack it all?

Wow, how wrong I was. It took me hours just to write up the spreadsheets of where I was going, accommodation details (maps, instructions, etc) and gather all the paperwork I needed to enter the UK. I also don’t have a copy of my uni transcript so I’ll have to order that and get it mailed to me. Troublesome! I also didn’t count on all the little things that I would have to cater for – like makeup and proper shoes for interviews, and sneakers and tracksuit pants for hiking in Banff. Imagine having to cram three wardrobes into one 50 litre backpack. I was up until 5:30, steadfastly plodding along. I had to wake at 6:30 for my flight, so I got a grand total of one hours’ sleep. I also was rushing to get out of the house in time, so I didn’t have time to say goodbye to the dog. I wish I’d hugged her one last time.

Saying goodbye to the family at Sydney airport was really, really hard, and I cried. I’ve actually refrained from writing anything about my trip yet because I didn’t want to think about not seeing them for a year. I’m very glad that Alison’s here, for my own sanity.

We met a peppy girl from Adelaide on our flight, and she was just a baby - born in 1988! Only 18 and she decided to go and work in Canada for a year at a vineyard. It was her first time traveling overseas too, and she seemed thrilled, wasn’t crying or an emotional mess. Impressive.

The flight was otherwise hellish. Singapore Airlines has really spoiled me for choice, because the Air Canada the hostesses were grouchy, abrupt and kind of unkempt. Also, it came as a rude shock to not have a personal entertainment-on-demand screen. Can you believe we were forced to watch the same movies as everyone else on the flight, sitting 20 rows back?

We landed in Honolulu and everyone had to get off the plane, clear customs and immigration and get our fingerprints/photos taken by the department of homeland security. The ridiculous thing was we got a date and visa stapled in our passport, then when we reboarded the plane the visa card got taken away again. It was in there for less than half an hour! I guess they’re keen to keep themselves busy.

I managed to sleep most of the Honolulu to Vancouver leg, but by the end of the flight I was very, very over it. Holly, the peppy girl from Adelaide, still had another connecting flight to Calgary but didn’t seem tired in the least. I don’t know how she did it, because she flew from Adelaide to Sydney before even joining our flight.

Once we got out of the airport, it was nice. Vancouver is much warmer than I expected, which was a pleasant surprise. It’s quite humid at the moment and around 25 degrees, so I’m glad that I packed some summery things.

The city seems to be a town planner’s dream. We drove right down a main thoroughfare (Granville St) with cross streets at regular intervals and houses numbered in the high thousands along the side of the road. There were lots of pretty avenues with trees, and it all seemed very suburban. We found our hostel with minimal trouble, it’s right in the middle of a section of pubs, eateries and strip joints. Classy. The hostel itself is nice though, kind of homely with squishy couches and things, and lots of pamphlets about local attractions. Staff were pretty laid back, and very Canadian. The hostel gets a big plus for the private room that we have with individual lockers and keycard entry!

After checking into the hostel, we decided to go to Granville Island, known for its markets. Looked at a map and decided that it wasn’t too far, so we tried to walk it, then got stuck on a bridge that was high, high above the island with no end in sight. We finally arrived, but resolved to catch a water taxi back...

The island was smaller than I thought it would be, but there were two highlights – a postcard shop inside the mall, and the public markets, with SO much delicious looking fresh produce, particularly the berries. The markets also had numerous bakery stalls (key lime pie! blueberry tarts! banana cream pie!) and sold unique gourmet items all over the place. One stall had about thirty different varieties of salts infused with various flavours; another solely dedicated to about twenty different flavoured butters and chutneys.

We were both suffering from jet lag and dehydration, so we headed back to the hostel for an afternoon nap. Woke up at 7pm, read some literature and decided to go to Grouse Mountain tomorrow because it’s a public holiday. Feeling very lazy, we just ate locally – at a place called Whine Oh (hee!) which had some interesting décor and music, but didn’t really come alive until after 9pm. We had some scampi, patatas bravas and a spinach salad with duck.

One weird thing: Vancouver citizens drive with their lights on no matter what time of the day it is. Broad daylight on a sunny day, they all had their lights on driving over the Granville bridge. Odd. They also have very cute “bathtub sized” ferries that potter between the different stops on the south side of the downtown island. And the buses run on electricity cables suspended above the roads. (What do they do when there’s a traffic jam in the lane with the cables?)

One annoying thing: tax gets added to everything you buy. So when you’re looking at something that costs $5.21, it’s really about $5.50 depending on what it is (I think different things attract different tax rates, or no tax rates if they’re “essentials”). Also, having to remember to tip 15% on all restaurant services is stressful. I’m glad that Sydney doesn’t do that!

Anyway, back at the hostel I tried to use internet but there is no wireless, and only one ethernet port that is shared by all who have laptops. While I was waiting, I ran into an old, loud, ugly lawyer from Florida who just wouldn’t shut up about himself. He’s been to Sydney but didn’t like being “poor” because you can earn three times more money in America. Well Mr. Lawyerman, a) I’m glad you left Sydney because we don’t want you anyway, b) what are you doing in a cheapie backpacker hostel if you’re a monied up lawyer? and c) your glory days are over. They cannot be reclaimed. Just go and buy yourself a red convertible like all your other comrades to get over your mid life crisis.

That ends my crazy September 3rd of 2006, which lasted 38 hours.

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