bookish

Despite the gray skies, heavy drizzle, and cold temperature, yesterday I got on my bike determined to explore Vancouver’s bikeways, with my end result being the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia, suggested by one of my hosts.

First, I had a fistful of US Dollars, and needed some Canada money. Using my Vancouver bikeways map, I plotted out what looked like an easy ride from the house I am at near Commercial Drive and Broadway, to a money exchange place on W Broadway. Most of this way involved the Tenth Avenue bikeway, aka “Off-Broadway.”

Once I exchanged $50 USD for $59.05 Canadian, I got the map back out again and plotted a course over to Ontario Street, feeding me right onto the seawall, which it looked like I could follow most of the way to UBC.

Ontario Street fed me right to that thing. Turns out that thing is called Science World!

Once on the seawall, the air got colder and the drizzle started making my pants wet. At first the sights kept my spirits up. The bikeway signs directed me clearly, cars actually stopped instantly when I came to a crosswalk, and there were lots of happy dogs with their owners. Yay!

However, at one point the seawall route started becoming a little confusing. I refused to accept that the “seaside” route signage would be taking me away from the sea, so I plodded on past a sign that said “pedestrians only.” After the path narrowed along Kitsilano Beach, I came to a big set of stairs and had to lug my bike back up. Yeesh. There seemed to be a lot of cyclists on Point Grey Road, which was a more major thoroughfare. I decided to still take the signed route–I went up a couple of blocks with an enormous hill, then turned right and went down that same enormous hill, which fed me onto…Point Grey Road! Argh!

Once I got to the Jericho Beach area, the traffic calmed immensely and the surroundings became much more lovely–more sea and trees and beach. And an extended hill which I was not mentally prepared for, between the cold, rain, and my mettle being tested.

On the way up though, I looked out to the sea and saw what looked like distant peninsulas, obscured because of cloud cover, beckoning to me like a Pacific Northwest Bali Hai. There were bald eagles hanging out in a dead tree, and circling above looking for food. Friendly joggers said hello.

Once I got to the museum, I locked my bike very carefully, remembering that my hosts told me that it’s very common for bikes to get stolen. Using my U-lock and a cable lock they lent me, I secured both of my wheels and frame to the bike rack, where it sat alone.

Inside the museum, I slowly dried off while looking at lots of totems, bentwood boxes, and ceremonial dishes, mostly from Haida and Kwakiutl people from the “first nations.” In addition, there was also a traveling photographic exhibit of Samoan tattoo art, and a collection of ceramics. (Not really sure what that had to do with anthropology, but it was fun to see nonetheless.) You can see photos here.

After getting lost on the UBC campus trying to find some food, I started making my way back via another bikeway. The way back seemed to take half the time, probably because there was a lot of downhill, great views, and the sun was starting to shine, although it was still pretty chilly. I took the Eighth Avenue bikeway until I started experiencing more car scariness again, then climbed up Ontario (arrrrgh! it’s steep) to the Tenth Avenue bikeway, and back home for an evening of food and conversation with my hosts.

Given that it’s one of our national symbols in the US, I think it’s very strange that I have always seen more bald eagles in Canada than all my time in the United States.

Almost as soon as I cleared Peace Arch Park crossing the border on Friday, I passed by a tree on the side of the road where a couple of baldies were just hanging out. Right next to I-5.

Yesterday on my bike ride to the Museum of Anthropology at UBC, I was climbing a long hill when I saw another eagle hanging out in a tree overlooking the ocean, and not one, not two, but THREE more circling around looking for some chow! They were chattering to each other and hanging out in a dead tree nonchalantly, like it was Backspace or something.

My only previous bald eagle sighting was when I was in International Falls, Minnesota, in March 2006. There were three or four baldies that were flying over Rainy River on the search for some nice walleye. However–and this is the important part–they seemed to mostly be sticking to the other bank of the river. AKA Canada.

What does this say about us as a nation, that our national symbols are ditching us for our northern neighbors?

My initial impression of Vancouver is that it’s a little like being in a parallel universe, or in one of those dreams where you’re in a place but not really. That is to say that being here is so incredibly like Portland, and yet so incredibly different that trying to wrap your head around it leaves you a little bit in a daze.

Essentially, I’m staying at a house that is located, as far as I can tell, around 39th and Hawthorne–except actually in a foreign country. The houses in this neighbourhood (har har!) have extremely small or non-existent yards, the city has many parks sprinkled throughout, I’ve seen many bikes along all the bikeways in the city, and Commercial Drive teems with home-grown eateries a mere half-block away. There’s Ethiopian. Indian. A place called Me and Julio. A burrito place run by a Chinese-looking woman, which blows my mind until I remember that oh yeah, there probably aren’t a lot of Mexicans in Canada. Then there’s this place, very Portlandy, where I got a pineapple tofu veggie burger for dinner. Yum yum.

Commercial Drive itself has way more people than Hawthorne, though. In fact, there was so much foot traffic that I had to be very mindful and “pull off to the side” if I wanted to stop and look at a store. And those other pedestrians walk fast and with determination, like New York City. There’s an elevated rail station about five blocks away, lending a flavor of the outer boroughs.

Despite all these pedestrians though, drivers are drivers. Not an hour after venturing from the house I’m staying at, I almost got run over by a lady not looking for pedestrians as she exited the parking lot of the nearby Safeway.

In Canada, products are labeled in two languages. “Of course!” you think. But, although you may have seen a multi-lingual product package before, have you gone into Safeway and seen every single product on the shelf labeled in English and French, the same weight given to each? Or in that very store, have you looked at the peanut butter shelf and found the major US brands almost forgotten at the bottom, with Adams inexplicably becoming hugely prominent?

Reinforcing the Portland theme, I also saw a woman with a spiky purple mowhawk fly down Commercial Drive on a longboard, and then on my walk home from Safeway, saw that same woman using a Starbucks cup tied to the end of a makeshift fishing pole to beg for change. Interesting.

One particularly cool moment during my walk was when the streets opened, presenting a peek at the downtown area of Vancouver and that thing from the world’s fair of 1986. You know…that thing?

What’s on the docket today? Just learned how to flush the toilet (no, I’m not kidding) with the help of the internet. Need to find a money exchange and touristy gift shop. I’m hoping to get on my bike today and start exploring the city’s bikeways, heading over to the UBC museum.