Vancouver (second day)

Notes from today in no particular order:

People here really do make do with the weather. Despite a very fine drizzle and clouds so dense you couldn’t see the Lions Gate Bridge up above us, Stanley Park was crawling with people this morning. Most had rain gear and some had umbrellas. But people jogged and walked undaunted.

Up in the mountains, a coyote loped across four lanes of traffic without checking both ways. Drivers waited politely for him to finish.

The staff at Cafe Medina are friendly and accommodating whatever you throw at them. They found me (party of one) space at what seemed to be a merely decorative bar. Next came a party that might be ten – no wait, now we’re twelve, but they won’t be here for at least ten minutes. The waffles were tiny as reviews promised, but with raspberry caramel dipping sauce, one couldn’t eat more than a few bites. The lavender latte was delicious, and I appreciated the, “Here you go, darlin'” that accompanied it.

I am perfectly happy spending hours on end in a silent hotel room. I like the balcony door ajar and leave the lights out as long as possible. I like lying diagonally across the (made) bed, reading novels in what feels like an absence of time or date.

What’s labeled a “farmers market” in Whistler is actually necklaces, honey, vegan bread, and crates of blueberries strung among bumper cars and bungie harnesses.

Outside my room, I think someone just cannon-balled into the pool.

My goals for the remainder of the day include a bath, tapas and several more chapters of The Book Thief.


Here are soggy tourists in front of the totems in Stanley Park.

With apologies for the bad photo (blame the fog), I give you the first water-bound gas station I’ve ever seen. This really cracked me up.