Vancouver, Cloudy-Side Up

Yesterday morning when Red pulled back the drapes of the hotel room, the first thing that hit my eyes was the uniform slate of grey. Outside, twelves stories below, small figures in raincoats and umbrellas crept along the walkway beside the marina. A parade of cars---a constant feature of Vancouver's traffic, slid along the road towards Stanley Park. Hawai'i seemed like a long way away.

It was nice view---our room at the Bayshore Westin near Coal Harbor was certain nothing to complain about. And who could really complain about the weather? This after all was late November. One would expect exactly this---not a trace of sun in sight. Still it was almost too stereotypical.

We'd spent a lovely Thanksgiving in Washington State, with Red's friends on Vashon Island, in a house surrounded by tall fir trees and lots of moss. Nick had smoked the turkey to perfection and entertained us with stories of his recent work experiences piloting a hover craft for an oil company in the Arctic Ocean. His intermittent breaks from his job allowed him to fly back to Seattle and prepare the meal for us with his wife, and give her a break from tending to their six-month-old son by herself.

After two lovely nights, we'd said our good-byes and driven up to the ferry on the north end of the island. We had just time enough to get out of our cars and climb to the front deck before the ferry reached the Seattle side.

It was a straight three-hour drive to the Canadian border. We'd finalized the decision only the night before while on Vashon. By the time we got the Peace Arch Park at Blaine, and drew near the frontier controls, it was past dark. A horrendous traffic jam on the south side of Vancouver delayed us further. It was pitch black by the time we got to the Westin and checked. A nice place. Staying there had been my choice, but ironically Red recognized it from several years back when she worked for the Giant Consumer Goods Conglomerate. She'd stayed there while researching marketing for one of their oral care products. Somehow I enjoy the fact that I pay out of pocket for places where giant corporations send their employees on trips.

Over night Red had fallen ill with a virus of some kind. We lingered in our room, and then when she felt up to it, we ventured outside into the cold British Columbia drizzle. We skipped over puddles in the walkway around to the point of Stanley Park. I played doctor and made Red go back to the room while I ventured out towards the lighthouse.

The white clouds hung low like a crown over the towers of downtown Vancouver. The tops of several of the taller ones disappeared right into the clouds. This was a beautiful city to be sure, but the light-permeable contemporary forest of glass towers felt chilly in the winter setting. The across the inlet mountains were completely invisible. They might as well have been a thousand miles away.

Part of me wished I could see the city in a more magnificent setting. But all in all, I enjoyed being here with the weather so lousy. Now I knew what Vancouver looked like "on a bad day." It could only go up from here.

Later I walked through the rain to the busy West End and warmed myself with a cup of coffee at a Tim Horton's. Some things are better when experienced in the stereotypical way.