**Picture looks out on beautiful English Bay.(Posted Wednesday from the Bellingham, WA, library; written Monday night before the Internet died at hostel).
Well, a long first day is finally coming to an end -- and I haven't even hopped on the bike yet. That will start tomorrow morning, when I pick it up from the bike store here, load it up with all my gear, ditch the suitcase currently stuffed with all my gear and figure out where the heck I'm headed...
Anyway, let me first look back...
I flew out of Raleigh around 6:30 a.m. EST this morning -- seems like ages ago. After an uneventful flight to Newark, I had a quick enough changeover so that I didn't have to wait to hop onto the next plane to Seattle. That was a long, long fight -- over 5 hours -- but it was split up by a half-decent breakfast, and once we got within 30 minutes or so of the airport, I opened up my window (not literally) and...
What a picturesque landscape. There were snow-capped mountains everywhere my eyes veered. One after another. I later deduced that we were flying over Eastern Washington, but in the moment I just enjoyed looking at scenery I had never really seen. The best part about it were the three or four peaks that loomed above the others, really giving you the sense that they were big, intimidating peaks. It was a sight to behold.
Then, once we were coming in for our landing, the beautiful, unique (and huge) Mt. Rainer stood out in front of us. For a moment I envied the pilots who get to see such sights every time they fly out west.
Anyway, I put those sights in my memory bank, knowing I'll likely have similar views when I reach Seattle within the week, and prepared for the final leg of my journey -- a short flight up to Vancouver. Of course, our plane was delayed by about an hour (when doesn't that happen for a simple, 30-minute flight?). But once we boarded, it was an entertaining half hour, made all the better by our happy, happy stewardess who made sure to tell us that she was from "beautiful Vancouver" and that we'd all love it. I believed her.
And she was right. But first, I had to meet the first character of my 1,900-mile journey.
As I was trying to figure out what bus to catch to get downtown where I could find a hostel at which to bunk up for the night, a middle-aged man came up and volunteered his services. And he was a true case of "don't let looks deceive."
The guy had one tooth -- one -- and it was closer to yellow than white. Not only that, but as we were waiting for the bus he pulled out a pint of Bacardi rum and asked the gentlemen around him if they had anything to mix it with. And this was at 3 in the afternoon. Not only that, but he took a swig or two of the rum once we got on the bus.
But he was extremely nice, helpful and informative. He told me he'd lived in the city for 55 years, and he knew everything about it. On the 30-minute bus ride, he told me all about his family and threw in an entertaining story to pass the time. Then we got off after crossing the Granville Street bridge, and he led me three blocks in the direction of the Samesun Hostel. We then parted ways, and I thanked him. Good man, good man. Just really bad teeth (or lack thereof).
After checking into the Samesun (which is where I'm typing this), I decided to take advantage of the remainder of the afternoon by walking down toward Stanley Park on the West side of the city. I'm not known for making good decisions, but this one held up. I knew this as soon as I descended the stairs to English Bay.
There, in front of me, was a large body of water that looked like it led out to the Pacific ocean. In reality, I was just looking at the Burrard Inlet and the Straight of Georgia. No difference. I peered out over some huge water vessels and a sun high in the sky that just didn't seem to belong in, well, the Northwest. I'm not a big sun guy, but I accepted it on this unusually warm April day (I just wore my polo shirt and jeans).
And I took in an amazing atmosphere. There were numerous paths along the bay that led toward Stanly Park at the north tip of the West End. And people made sure to occupy. People of all kinds. Runners, bikers, rollerbladers, dog walkers, walkers with their dogs (off the leash)... They all made sure to frequent the path.
But the coolest thing I noticed right away was the beach setup. It wasn't exactly a swimming beach to my left, but it was a nice place to chill. And in another example of Canadians being ahead of the times, there were huge logs laying all over the beach that made perfect benches to sit on or lean up against (I guess the huge trees up here help, as well). This was evidenced by the fact that there were hundreds of people who did just this. I can't believe I've never seen such a setup before.
So I walked a few good miles north until I got to Stanley Park, which is huge. If I had my bike, I might have been able to see the entire park. Instead, I simply took a trail through the Lost Lagoon, which was a pretty cool nature walk that featured plenty of wildlife. I saw plenty of swans, ducks and on two logs in the lagoon, there were groups of turtles just hanging out. Don't see that in North Carolina. I also saw a raccoon on the opposite bank.
What stood out to me was how well nature is integrated into the city of Vancouver. One minute, you're walking among large buildings. The next you're walking next to a peaceful lagoon.
Another cool aspect of the beach atmosphere: People played all kinds of sports, including soccer on the beach, hacky sack, roller hockey in a little cordoned off area -- there was even a kid and his dad throwing a softball. Oh, and there were about 16 public tennis courts open to anyone. I could see myself living around there.
On my way back to the hostel, starving and about to get sushi from one of the 27 sushi joints I saw -- sushi is super cheap and good here -- I ran into the second interesting character of the day. After a minute of chatting, it was pretty clear from his voice that he was gay. Vancouver has a very thriving gay population and is an open-minded community as a whole, another positive about the city.
The man was extremely friendly and gave me some advice on the city after jokingly calling me crazy for doing the bike trip. We then parted ways, and I headed for my sushi.
A funny thing for me -- when I got back to the hostel, it was only 8:30 p.m., but I noticed that almost all the sports games for the night were over. That's gonna be a huge adjustment for me -- but a good thing. Sports will be over out here, almost always, by 10 at night. That should lend itself to an early schedule. It's also a huge adjustment just knowing that games on the East coast come on at 4 here. Crazy.
And once I reach the U.S. tomorrow, they'll start (I think) showing hoops instead of hockey -- which is certainly the case up here.
Anyway, Internet's about to run out on me.
Until next time, peace...
Pictures to come.
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