The 'Couve

Koo-loo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo-koo!*

Greetings, eh?  We’ve taken off for the Great White North!  In one afternoon in downtown Vancouver alone, we’ve worn touques, downed a “2-4” of Molson, seen loons, hunted moose, trapped beavers, wrestled salmon from the mouths of hungry grizzlies, unhorsed a pair of brawny Mounties, panned unsuccessfully for gold, survived a grueling, 8-months-long blizzard on nothing but hard tack and salt cod, and then buried the vicar when the ground unfroze. Oh, Canada!

Our eventful day kicked off with a morning drive across the famous Peace Arch border crossing into the greater Vancouver area, which marked Erica’s first time in Canada, and James’ first time as a foreigner.  Sadly, the forest fire smoke continues to obfuscate the views in these parts.  It was bad in the North Cascades, but is worse here, where the smoke has settled into the lowlands surrounding the city.  You might have a mental image of Vancouver as this Hong Kong-like metropolis surrounded on three sides by mountains plunging dramatically into the bay, but today we were hardly even able to make out the shapes of the nearest foothills.  Still, there was fun to be had, so we went to find it.

Our first stop was the 2k-long miniature train ride in Stanley Park.  This park, which sits on the farthest northern promontory in the city, was voted “Top Park in the Entire World” TripAdvisor, and it does not disappoint.  The ride itself was a typically junky kind of kids’ train ride, but longer.  James loved it, so it was totally worth doing, and it wound through several peaceful groves of massive, old growth Western Red Cedar and Douglas Fir, which are prevalent in the park.  

Stanley Park Miniature Train

We then parked our car and rented two bikes and a “chariot” in which I towed Sir James, and did the 9k loop ride around the park atop its seawall.  We made a rather lengthy stop at one point to let James play in a kiddie splash park, which he of course didn’t want to leave and so threw a fit (one of many today—the no-naps-and-a-new-place-everyday pace is beginning to wear on the little guy).  After two long hiking days with James on my back, my quads about quit on me near the end of the ride.

James in his chariot, at a Second Beach stop for some ice cream

It’s uncharacteristically hot here (and, as an aside, there aren’t air conditioners anywhere because they don’t normally need them. And so our hotel room is hot and stuffy) so we went to the beach, which is just across the street. Vancouver doesn’t exactly scream “beach destination,” but there are three beaches near our hotel, one of which is, in fact, lined with palm trees. The beaches themselves are a far cry from the white sand strips of the Caribbean; think big, course sand strew with millions of scallop shell shards. James waded right in of course, so we had to follow. The water was a bit murky and full of bits of organic dross (feathers, dead seaweed, bark, etc.), but after a few minutes Erica and my lower halves were numb, so we stopped noticing, really. James played happily for a while before migrating, shivering, to the beach to lump up clods of sand together and pronounce them “castles.”

Dinner was…well, I made a mistake. Vancouver is known for its Asian cuisine, owning to its large immigrant population. We wanted to find something in that vein that was walkable from our hotel—and so I did. Plus, the Yelp reviews of this place were excellent. Well, as it turns out, it was really more of a takeout kind of place. As in, good for a lazy night in, but not really what you want for a vacation meal in a city known for its cuisine. James liked it, and positively loved both the dingy coy tank and stale fortune cookie. Erica and I not so much. Plus we misordered, and ended up with two dishes that were basically chicken in clear sauce, which no one looks forward to. After, we took a long walk through the southern part of Stanley Park and James found some playground equipment to screw around on for a while. He ended up melting down again and having to be dragged home, so here we are. Got some wine for our room, and I’m typing away (our hotel, the Sylvia, is one of those century+ grand dames gone slightly to seed. It’s still perfectly fine, plus our room is a suite with a kitchen and separate living space, but everything has about 15 coats of paint of in from years of trying to keep costs low, and the keys are still actual keys. I’d stay here again at this point, and the downstairs bar and restaurant look inviting, but it ain’t the Ritz anymore.)

Sunset view from our bedroom window.  The forest fire smoke has at least meant several hours of beautiful sunset per night.

Tomorrow it’s up Grouse Mountain on the gondola for some hiking and nature observing fun.  For now, good night!

Grant

*This reference to Strange Brew is basically in here just for Dad.