After spending as much time as I could with Dakota and reassuring him I’d be back in no time (leaving him is always really tough, I’ve only ever done it a handful of times in his 9 years), I was off to the airport.
It’s a nice change flying within Canada since I didn’t have to be at the airport as early as usual, although given my own anxious personality type, I still was there earlier than I needed to be.
Check-in was smooth and painless; Pearson was quiet. It was only 6AM. We’d be taking off at 8 and then landing just after 9AM locally in Vancouver. I didn’t really have much time to sleep after the concert, but at least I didn’t have to work for the next week.
I reluctantly grabbed a coffee at the Starbucks before making my way to my gate, unsure if there would be a Tim Hortons along the way. I’ve never really had any complaints about travelling through Pearson, but as I’ve travelled more it’s become obvious how much it lacks compared to other airports when it comes to food/beverage options, shops and art or community-driven projects to amuse yourself while you wait.
I didn’t bring my laptop on this trip because I felt due to take a break from as many screens as I could and try to make myself relax without worrying about blogging or whatever else. I know they’re a necessary evil in this day and age, but I get tired of looking at them, honestly.
But, now here I was bored in an airport, too tired to read the book I’d brought along and too restless to just sit and do nothing. So I pulled out my pocket computer (Google Pixel) and dove right back into usual habits.
We had WiFi on the plane too which was great, because randomly browsing Reddit seemed to be one of the only things I felt like doing to pass the time. I did however use the opportunity to watch a couple movies. A Complete Unknown was first on my list, followed by Juror #2 – I recommend both.
I know I’m late on the Dylan movie train. I meant to watch it in theatres but one thing or another kept me from it. I really enjoyed it on the plane though; Timothée Chalamet did alright as Dylan – nobody can really replace the real deal, I think. He didn’t awe me as much as say, Jaoquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash in Walk the Line, but I’m a real big Jaoquin fan so there’s probably some initial bias there.
I’m a big fan of Dylan’s too as you might have gathered if you’re familiar with my Neither Could Dylan project (listen to my cover of Mr. Tambourine Man here), but I’ve never seen him live and that fills me with a certain level of shame.
When he came through Toronto a couple years ago with a stop at Massey Hall, I briefly had the opportunity to buy a ticket, but it would have set me back about $240 and at the time I hummed and hawed over it. On the one hand, if I was gonna spend $240 for anyone, it would be Dylan – who knows when I’ll get another chance? On the other hand $240 is a stupid amount of money for a concert ticket. I don’t believe I’ve ever spent more than $150 on anyone, even Paul McCartney. Ultimately I decided to try and be good and didn’t buy the ticket.
Thinking about this again after having spent the same on The Offspring, I’m conflicted to say the least. On the one hand I did really enjoy the show (did I enjoy it $240 dollars worth?) and on the other hand I should have just bought the fucking Dylan ticket, now shouldn’t I have?
I think about Dylan semi-regularly as I make my way through my own weird little life. Sometimes the decisions I’m making aren’t rooted in anything super sensible, there is just a feeling, a certain magnetism that pushes me towards a direction and I either trust that it’s where I should go or I force the feeling away with excuses or rational that may or may not also be rooted in sensibility. What I’ve learned to understand about Dylan is that he’s always sort of just trusted his instinct to travel and explore much like I am now and it’s seemed to work out for him.
This trip I’m on was born first out of the desire to go to Seattle to explore the city that Death Cab For Cutie call home, but right now I’m heading to Vancouver because I’m trying to decide if it’s the type of place I could call home for myself.
Ever since I was very young my heart has been trying to lead me to the west coast. For most of my life though, I thought this meant California. It’s been a constant nagging feeling that hasn’t let up, but only in recent years have I begun to really give in to it. As I’ve gotten older, other states or provinces seemed to make more sense for me as far as my interests and general goals, so I’ve been trying to explore my options and really think it through. I always tell people, “I’ve been ready to leave home since I was 12, but I wasn’t really sure how to do it or where to go”.
I reach the point in the movie where Dylan has arrives in New York to find out that Woody Guthrie is in a hospital in New Jersey and he annoyedly quips that he just came from there before he decides to go back to meet him. I laugh because that’s the kind of ridiculous shit that would happen to me; travel a whole long way just to find that the thing you really want to do or the person you really want to see was right where you came from.
It’s not a wholly historically accurate film, but the sentiment sticks.
And suddenly I don’t feel so silly for wanting to go to Seattle just because a songwriter is from there.
But back to Vancouver.
I’ve been pretty sure for a while now that I’d be happy settling down in Vancouver. It’s not that I don’t like Toronto, but I’ve been here a long time and I’m a little bored and uninspired by it now. Our winter’s are cold and unforgiving and I much prefer milder weather; I can handle the rain if it means losing the bone-chilling winds. And I love being in the woods, would like to climb a few mountains in my lifetime and I’d prefer to be by an ocean rather than a lake – I love the salty smell of the sea. The two cities share a lot of commanalities, but Vancouver seems to have a bit more of what I need.
I say this of course without ever having stepped foot there – it’s all just a feeling.
I step off the plane and collect my bag from the carousel. The flight felt pretty quick after the movies and my random Reddit scrolling and now I was walking a tunnel to the SkyTrain with mountains in full view.
I felt light. Airy. Happy. The sun was out with barely a cloud in the skies; It seemed to be welcoming me home.
I fumbled my way through the SkyTrain machine prompts. “Am I going one Zone or two? How do I know? Oh there’s a little legend here. Waterfront. That’s two zones. I’m going two”. I grabbed my ticket and turned to enter the turnstile behind me, but not before someone else asks me, “How easy is this thing to use?”
“Oh, it’s not bad. Where are you heading? Okay, that’s the same line as me, you’ll need Zone 2 tickets for both of you.”
Who am I, a local?
The train arrives fast; it’s clean and spacious. First time on the SkyTrain, I have to admit it’s kind of cool. I take in the views on the short ride up to my stop; I’m staying sort of near BC Place at the Cambie Seymour Hostel and I have no idea what I’m in for, but I feel pretty good already.
The hostel isn’t a too far walk from the train stop and even with my suitcases stiff wheels I manage up the street hills pretty well. Sometimes it can feel overwhelming when I enter a new city and haven’t got my bearings yet, but in Vancouver I immediately felt completely at ease, as though I was exactly where I should be. There were no massive high-rises towering over me and sun filled most streets; I felt like I could really breathe.
I chose a hostel on this leg of the trip to save costs. When I was looking at Vancouver hotels, I was amazed at how limited the selection was for more economic options. Everything seemed to be like $200+ a night even if you chose a dingy motel on the outskirts of the city, so I was stoked when I found the Cambie – although it was still a pricier option than most hostels I’ve seen because I upgraded myself from the 6-8 people dorms into a 2-bed female dorm. I don’t mind sharing space with others, but I do like my own space, too, so if I can work it in my favour to end up with my own room at reduced pricing, I will. And it’d turn out that was the smart move. Of the 4 nights I stayed at the Cambie, I only had 1 roomate for a short time one night and she was awesome; a marine bioligist named Helen who had to be on the island early the next morning for a conference.
The staff at the Cambie were great. Again, smooth easy check-in (I book through booking.com primarily), good WiFi and the best part: the bathrooms were always clean when I went to use them. I’ve had some bad experiences in bathrooms at other hostels, so this deserves the utmost praise. The only thing more important than a half decent bed to sleep in when you’re on the road is a clean bathroom.
For your records, this 4-night stay still set me back over $600CAD, but I also saved at least $600 by going the hostel route over any of the hotels which is good because it meant I could buy meals with hesitating.
The best part about the hostel though is it’s proximity to everything. As I mentioned, it’s not far from the SkyTrain if you plan to utilize that and it’s only about 10 minutes before you’re at the waterfront or in the cool Gastown neighbourhood (I went back there often, there is a little piazza that feels kind of like Eastern Europe). There’s a bar attached to it, too, so if you need a quick bite you don’t even have to leave the building – but if you do, there’s a ton of other options right outside the door, too.
My room was ready when I arrived, some 4+ hours ahead of normal check-in time, so I dropped off my things and hit the town. I wasn’t planning it, but that morning I walked a chunk of the SeaWall stretching from B.C Place all the way around Stanley Park, passing through the beaches and over to Burrard Street Bridge. I had one of the best burgers I’d ever tasted in Stanley Park and marvelled at how picturesque the city was. From the mountains to the beaches and the trees and all that’s inbetween, if I’d known it was this pretty here I probably would not have waited so long to visit. Films and photos simply don’t do it any justice – you just have to be there.
I was already sure I’d made the right choice in choosing Vancouver and the next 3 days would only further compound that feeling.
The next morning I got up early. It was a little cooler and overcast – a perfect day for a hike, I figured. I grabbed a nearby bus that was heading north to Grouse Mountain.
There were a ton of places I could have chosen to hike that day and I loved that, it’s something I’ll definitely be taking advantage of. Even with stopping at a grocery store midway to the mountain (I picked up a sub and water for after the hike at Thrifty’s), and a second bus transfer, the whole trek to Grouse only took about 45 minutes.
Without really thinking, I grabbed a coffee from the Starbucks at the base of the mountain. I knew it was going to be an uphill climb, but it’s also mostly stairs so keeping my hands free wasn’t really a concern. It felt a little silly, but I slugged up that mountain swirling that coffee cup the whole way, periodically stopping to enjoy the trees and take a swig while noting that elsewhere in the city, someone was also slugging around a coffee, but they were in an office building and about to fill out some useless spreadsheets for upper management.
If you’ve never hiked Grouse, it certainly is a grind. Even though it’s mostly stairs, you’re going to sweat your ass off doing it. I like to think I’m pretty fit and even I stopped a couple times to catch my breath.
And the view at the top?
Boy..
Non-existent that day, actually. It was super cloudy at the top of Grouse, a little chilly and damp. I couldn’t see a damn thing.
But it felt so good to climb.
You can take the gandola back down from Grouse or hike the BCMC trail down (the Grind itself is far too steep, so climbing back down that way isn’t permitted), and although I’ve never been on a gondola before, I was happy to take the trail. Along my way down other hikers making their way up would keep asking me, “how’s the view up there?” and my response would vary. “Great! Well worth the trip up!” or “The clouds were starting to part as I was leaving so I think you’ll luck out!”
Hopefully they did for them, I bet it’s pretty sweet on a clear day, but the hike itself is really enjoyable anyway.
Just south of Grouse Mountain you’ll pass Capilano Suspension Bridge Park if you’re heading back into the city, so I popped in on my way.
Admission is a little pricey, just shy of $80CAD for an adult for a day pass, but I was there and it was there, so I went ahead. Sometimes you’ve just gotta do the touristy stuff! It’s a pretty cool park actually, complete with some treetop trekking, rad totem poles and meet and greets with interesting wildlife like my new bird friends. I even saw a bald eagle in the wild flying by – it was beautiful. All said, the park was a nice leisurely way to cap off my afternoon after tackling Grouse before heading back to the city to enjoy the sunset by the water.
Vancouver was full of cool surprises while I was there. I stumbled into an outdoor movie night off of Georgia Street where they were playing Scott Pilgrim, a movie most people would be shocked to hear I still haven’t seen. We have these types of things in Toronto, too, of course, but the vibe hit different in Vancouver. It seems was more chill amd community driven, more accepting and more inclusive; the difference between watching a movie with a bunch of strangers versus watching one with a bunch of potential new friends. I hung out there for a while just to enjoy it. I’d do this a fair bit at the events I’d stumble into. Like the next night when there happened to be a full orchestra performance outside B.C Place and hundreds of people had shown up to listen. Now that I haven’t seen in Toronto and it was super cool – there is nothing quite like a well rehearsed orchestra. Everywhere I went, Vancouver seemed to be inviting me to sit, relax and enjoy myself and I was constantly in awe of it all.
I had to keep reminding myself that I was just on vacation and maybe I was looking at things through those rosy lenses too much, but the truth is that no other place I’d visited until this point has ever made me feel so comfortable so quickly and I was just so grateful for that.
The next morning I was up early again and I decided to go for a run along the SeaWall. I was a little tired from how much running around I’d done the last two days, but once I got moving it felt so good to be out there. So many runners of all ages and most of them made a point to say hey as we passed each other which was a nice addition that I don’t get very often back home.
Later that day I had some important plans. Before coming I had already looked into a couple options for places for Dakota and I to stay while we got settled in. I was pretty set on the Kitslano neighbourhood which is just across the bridge from downtown Vancouver; I’d just heard good things and it seemed like a good place to park ourselves for at least a few months. So, a quick shower in the hostel and about half hour walk later, there I was; Kits!
I walked to the beach and took it in for a bit; bigger than I thought it would be and with a nice view of English Bay downtown across the water. The main street connected here is Yew Street, so I took that up to find the apartment I’d looked at.
The neighbourhood is pleasantly quiet. I didn’t find downtown Vancouver to be terribly busy and this was like that slashed in half. I took the road up to Broadway passing by a few coffee shops and restaurants that I’d mentally note would be my new local spots. One of them had a sign out front mentioning their weekly open mic night. Nice, that’ll be good to have. I’d just missed it by a day.
I walked down Broadway a while before heading to the street I would be on. And then I got to the address that I had put in my Google Maps and not looked at much while exploring and looked up at the building before me.
Huh? This is a house.
That can’t be right. It should be a building.
A bit of digital rummaging and then…
Ah, that’s why.
I shook my head, turned my feet and started walking back towards where I’d come from.
Wrong address. I was way further than I needed to be.
And then when I got back to it, and “Yep, that looks like what I was expecting,” and realized my location, I was relieved.
I’m even closer to the beach than I thought I’d be!
People always comment on how much research and thinking I do before I commit to something, but the reality is a lot of the time I’m just sort of winging it. I do just enough to feel comfortable and not completely in the dark, but what’s the point of living without a few surprises?
I liked the neighbourhood. It’s cute and well maintained. Quiet, but people are actually out and about walking around with their kids and dogs so it doesn’t feel empty. I walk up to a nearby park where a women’s softball league is playing a few games on its many baseball diamonds and I stop to watch them for a minute. Yeah, this should do just fine. I think Dakota would like it too and that’s really enough for me.
With my most important errand of the trip out of the way I make my back back to Kits beach. I’m blistered and sore from my hikes and runs and need to park my butt for a couple hours; It’s beautiful out, so there’s no better place to be than the beach.
I note that there’s changerooms and washrooms right by the entrance and a nice restaurant with a rooftop patio for easy eats, plus a fountain to fill up my water bottle. Perfect. Everything you need so that you don’t have to lug your whole life with you like you do back home. Toronto has beautiful beaches, but it always feels like such a pain in the ass to get there and then to actually enjoy the day you need to really stock your bags well.
And anyway, they don’t smell like Kits.
Salty ocean breezes will always outweigh dry lakeside winds.
The tide is really low which presents a lot of seaweed, but that doesn’t stop anyone from making their way down the shoreline into the water. I’m surprised how many people are kicking around, playing volleyball, building sand castles, reading or napping. Just like downtown, it doesn’t feel in any way crowded. Lots of space for me and anyone else who wants to enjoy a lazy afternoon.
It was incredibly relaxing.
I spent hours there because later that evening I had other important plans. I don’t know anyone in Vancouver really, but my sister has a friend who moved here a few years back and she was down to meet up with me. I’ve only met her a couple times, but as much fun as I was having running around by myself, it’s nice to be able to sit down to a meal and speak with another human being, especially one who has made the big leap from Ontario to B.C like she has.
Sara recommended we check out the Local, a restaurant right across from Kits Beach (convenient!) so I made my way over there to grab us a table while I waited for her. She was worried it might be a little busy since it’s a popular spot, but I got a place for us right after they wiped down a couple tables.
The Local is a cool vibe, too. They have bike racks lining the walk-up to make it easy for cyclists to park before coming in. I’d learn along the way that this is true of much of Vancouver and it’s another breath of fresh air. Try finding bike parking in Vaughan, I dare you! It is almost non-existent. You can find some in Toronto, but even that can be a challenge in our densest and most bike-friendly areas. There is clearly a much biger focus on outdoor activity in Vancouver and I’m stoked about it. I wish Toronto would get more on board with these kinds of initiatives, it makes such a big difference in everyone’s quality of life. Instead our political pundits seem hellbent on removing bike lanes and desteroying our most precious green spaces in favour of more development in an already overcrowded city to better serve their own pocket books and not the people that live there.
I ordered a pop and Sara arrived a short time later. We chatted a bit about what I’d been up to and why I wanted to move here before she divulged a little about her own journey and how our initial reasonings seemed to align. We both sort of decided it on a whim and after she visited the first time, she was sold. No real concrete plan about it all because moving provinces without a job offer as the main motivator is its own special chore, so she sort of just went for it, hoped for the best and everything just kind of worked itself out once she started to put things in motion.
It was reassuring to hear from someone who didn’t really know me personally that well explain their journey in a way that didn’t make me feel insane for what I was about to attempt.
We got a little New-Agey as she mentioned some variations of signs and odd occurances that seemed to continue pointing her in the direction she chose and reaffirming her own choices; Those peculiar happenings that make you pause and smirk into nothing like you’re Jim from the Office, in on some kind of funny joke that only you and your own internal audience understand, like having a particular affinity for yellow butterflies and having two flutter by just as you’re looking for some sort of spiritual guidance. I’d had a few of them myself.
And then we talked a bit about Seattle. She’d visited and enjoyed it and was sure I’d have a good time there. I explained that I figured it would be the last opportunity I have to take a vacation for a while since once Dakota and I move here, I’ll have to focus on just working and I wouldn’t want to ever have to put him in a doggy hotel even for a couple days given his age and how attached he is to me (and I to him). It’s one thing to leave him a few days with family who he already lives with and adores, it’s another to put him in a shelter.
“Well, one thing I can say after moving to Vancouver; It’s nice to finally live somewhere you don’t want to take a vacation from!”
Yeah, I think that’s what I’m really looking for.
That night I was treated to the final night of the Celebration of Light, a summer festival that is home to the longest running offshore fireworks competition (it’s been running since 2001). The roads are closed and boaters, kayakers, paddleboarders and more hit the water to secure the best viewing of the show that takes place just outside of English Bay. Up until this night, Vancouver had seemed to be sparsely populated. But now, as I made my way from my hostel to the shoreline, I was surrounded by thousands of other Vancouverites eager to get to the show. Ah, so there you all are!
It was an unreal experience just walking there, but once you get to the waterfront you realize how big the event really is. There are people absolutely everywhere. You can buy tickets to get premium seating or a spot on a balcony with a bar, but it’s a free event and most of us are just going to find a random place to stand and view from there. I end up basically dead center of the Honda-sponsored barge where they’ll be firing the fireworks off from amidst a sea of people, just behind the beach barricade put up to help Vancouver police and event volunteers with crowd control.
I love fireworks shows, but I haven’t really enjoyed any in recent years – that was part of me that died somewhere along the way in my former relationship and it’s been challenging to get back to my old self, the version of me that found magic in those kinds of things.
But tonight was different. I’d basically limped my way to the waterfront, my right leg in particular still super sore from overdoing it. I was kicking myself a bit for not listening better to my body to avoid that kind of discomfort, but I wasn’t going to let it keep me from this show – we must endure!
What a cool event to put on for your city, I thought. Toronto does the usual holiday fireworks shows, but this is way beyond those. It felt great to be part of it even before the show began. Why does everyone in Vancouver seem so much happier than everyone in Toronto?
It started with a drone show which is something I’d never seen before in person. I’d see other commentators later scoff about it online, saying it was pretty lame by drone standards (whatever that means), but I thought it was pretty neat. It was all accompanied by music and was there to hype us up for the main event. Instead of a hype-man over a loud PA, you got drone’s scrolling through the sky with messages of Canadian pride, nodding to legends like The Tragically Hip’s Gord Downie and Terry Fox.
Canada does not always boast a high level of pride or patriotism unlike our American neighbours, so these moments always feel authentic and are very warmly received.
Gord Downie and Terry Fox have had a huge impact on me (as with many Canadians, no doubt) so I always appreciate when we acknowledge them and their work; It just seems such a shame that the bulk of this appreciation tends to come after these types of people have left our mortal Earth.
There were no real hiccups or issues at the event from where I stood. With the exception of one long drawn out interaction where some very patient Vancouver police struggled to convince some attendees to move from the aisle that led into the beach area because it needed to be clear in case of any emergencies (it was both a mild language barrier and an ignorance barrier as far as I could tell), everyone seemed well behaved and respecful of each others space.
The fireworks show itself was the biggest and longest I’d ever seen in my life. Every part of it was bigger than any fireworks finale I’d seen. It was incredible and I’m really glad I had the opportunity to see it.
Magic restored.
Afterwards I joined the hoards of happy people through the streets of Vancouver, still mostly closed of course which made for a very enjoyable evening stroll. In Davie Village a drag queen helped keep pedestrians safe by controlling traffic at an intersection where cars were able to sneak through and those not ready to end their night excitedly entered liveful bars and ice cream shops to keep the party going. It was a total vibe; I took my time walking back to the hostel thinking that there was only one thing that could have improved it all for me – not taking it all in by myself.
I had one day left in Vancouver. Knowing I’d be back in just a couple months, I didn’t feel a strong urgency to get out and do anything in particular. Instead I went back to Kitslano and plopped myself back on the beach spending most of the afternoon there just thinking.
I hadn’t bought any souvenirs because you don’t really buy souvenirs when you visit home. Was this really where I’d be living? It’s almost too perfect. I mean, yeah, I’d already signed up for a place and booked my Air BnB’s for the 6-day drive over. But was I sure?
Very sure.
Not sure how it was going to work out really, just that it was going to be a thing I’d be doing. How quickly will I find a job? Hopefully reasonably quickly, but I’m mentally prepared to be struggling with that at first. After my initial few months in Kitslano I might need to find another place. How will that go? That might be tough, too. I have no way of knowing, but neither did Sara. She seemed pretty sure it’d work out for me like it did for her.
We might both be wrong, but I know I have to try.
This is Part 2 in an ongoing series. Check back soon for Part 3 where I finally make it to Seattle.
Crooked Forest 