My first post from Vancouver, where I’m sitting in an internet cafe, surroudnded by Korean kids playing computer games, and desperate to wash my hair.
Moments ago, as I was walking along Robson Street, I was tranfixed by a black grow relentlessly nibbling at the tail of a sprinting black squirrel. And as I stood still, I got shat on by a bird. Since I’m miles away from home, and can’t therefore go there immediately, I might as well just sit here and stuffer and hope nobody’s going to have a sniff at my hair - and why should they anyway?!
This is my second time in Vancouver, and a first by low-cost airline Zoom, which took me from one of the most disgusting airports in the world (Gatwick) to one of the most non-descript (Belfast) before ending up in the world’s best and most beautiful airport, Vancouver International.
I’m not one to get excited by the interior decor or airports, but my God, is it beautiful here. I almost creamed myself when I saw the high ceilings and foresty green decors. Somehow, it didn’t look as pleasant four years ago when I last visited, probably because it was night time then and having just detached myself from a Mancunian woman who spent the entire journey moaning about her arthritis, anything would’ve looked pleasant this time round.
None of this non-sense on Zoom, however. It was a mildly pleasant flight, with not much in terms of comfort though the woman next to me did bugger off to another aisle which gave me the chance to admire some astonishing views of Greenland and Baffin Island. To say they were stunning would not do them justice, though a worrying note was seeing the number of melted icebergs floating away from the mainland.
Food on Zoom is nothing to shout about either, and is possiblt the worst/smallest portions I’d ever encountered. Hvaing not flown long-distance for some years, I was looking forward to the food, though the question “What is it?” didn’t really produce a reassuring answer: “Cottage pie or shepherd’s pie - it’s all the same…”. Of course it’s bloody well not the same. I gave the flight attendant that thunderous look that I would only give to ignorant, frivolous individuals. I didn’t wish to point out that one is beef and one is lamb for fear of coming across as difficult. But his rather casual response has been noted, and will no doubt feature in my forthcoming letter to the airline concerning the previously unannounced stop-over in fucking Belfast.
Vancouver is nice, of course, though the second time round reaffirms my belief that whilst it is aethesatically pretty, it is rather hollow and devoid of any character. There are also a rather a lot of rats around, and its mobile phone operators are as useless as the rest of the world.
I’ve begun my stay here in style by gambling my money away at the racetrack and during a game of mah-jong with my grandparents, which somehow amazes me. That’s 20 dollars down the drain without even setting foot in downtown Vancouver. But I’ve gradually reaquainted myself with the local customs and transport systems which still ranks as one of my favourites in the world.
Not so the beggars/homeless people, whose competition for passers-bys’ generosity must be one of the fiercest in the world. I mean, where else would you get a beggar at the top opf the street holding a placard which tells you he’s homeless and HIV positive, whilst another one 200 metres further down telling you he’s ’senile, homeless and has Parkinson’s’?
May 29th, 2007 by 
bleungberg 
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