Vancouver

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DAY ONE - 21 April

Corrie, Rachel, Jed, Georgia and Myself jumped into J&G's van and made the 2 hour journey down the mountain from Whistler to Vancouver, found ourselves a central parking spot and headed out for a spot of sightseeing around the city Centre, down around Canada Place and finally stopped off at the swish Steamworks for a spot of lunch. Steamworks is located in the old train station building from the early 1900's and is decorated in keeping with the train carriages and stations of that era, so is abundant in wooden and upholstered surfaces, decorative lighting fixtures, stain glass windows and beautiful artwork and photography. Rachel and I discovered a lovely blueberry Mojito and rooiboos, lemon, mint martini and the food was delectable and very reasonably priced.

We head back to the van to find ourselves some digs for the evening only to find that someone has smashed the back window of the van. $1000 cash still remained in the front console, bags scoured but nothing taken, only Corrie's hair gel is now broken? BUGGER!! Now we are down on Vancouver and cursing the crack whores, smack heads and homeless bums that are ever apparent in this town! Paranoid, we clear the glass and pile into the van to look for some 'safe' accommodation for ourselves and the van. Deciding to take advantage of the fact that we now have an open air vehicle and are safe together in our group of 5, we cruise down East Hastings, infamous for it's trolley pushing homeless, doorway loitering crack smokers and desperate yet friendly junkies. None of us have ever seen anything like it. Hastings is a very long street and at the Westend, very smart, bright, clean, modern and chic. At the crossroads where it turns from West to EAst Hastings you can look West to the modern, safe haven beside the sea then look east toward an ocean of poverty. All the shop walls are decorated with peeling posters and graffiti, it's lined with litter, and is somewhat shops, whether open for business or not, have bars on all windows and you can see the dirty, grimy squats located above. From the sights on the street, it's easy to imagine what is hiding in the shared, mattress lined 'homes'.
After losing count of the amount of people we spotted injecting heroin or smoking crack in doorways, on stairways or at traffic lights, a few more journey's up and down the street and a roll of film later, we checked ourselves into a lovely 4 star resort for the evening - removing absolutely EVERYTHING from the van and into our room even though it was in underground secured parking. It wasn't until this point that I was made aware that my bag was missing - unfortunately this too meant my favourite jeans, fisherman pants, smokers cap I got from Nimbin, underwear, toothbrush, prescription sunnies, phone charger, digital camera and the brand new video camera my bestest friends pitched in to buy me for my birthday, for this trip, all went missing too. After a few tears shed, the adrenalin got the better of me and I went in search of my tossed backpack with Corrie and Rachel. Quite a little adventure we had around the block, scouring rubbish bins, gardens, stairwells etc. I figured they'd take the valuable stuff and toss the backpack and clothes but nothing was to be found - other than a pile of cds... probably the throwbacks of another theft.

Once that little search was out of my system, back to having fun and no longer judging Vancouver and the rest of it's people by one mishap. I concluded the bum or crack whore with a new wardrobe and mod cons now at their disposal, probably needed it more than me and if not, karma would come round and kick them up the rear eventually.

A few games of President Asshole, Shithead and a 12 pack of Corona, bottle of Baileys and bottle of Kahlua later, we ventured across the road with one Susan Midgley for all you can eat chocolate fondue at Rachel's request ($6.95 UNLIMITED fruit, marshmallows & pretzels). Fondue is huge in Canada. Weird. Then onto Granville Street to check out the nightlife - me still adorning that days clothing of what some say look like tracky dacks (but they are actually the coolest Alien Nation Skater pants alive!) and my snow jacket. As we had run into a long lost friend of Jed's, Tim, working at the Steamworks, we took his advice and entered the ROXY: a live music venue, lil dark, lil dingy but with our limited knowledge and drink specials, we weren't complaining.

That night Tim educated us on the bums of Vancouver. Basically, they're harmless. It's just disconcerting when every block you walk there's another bum on the corner trying to sell you flowers they've picked from the gardens or pots out the front of the store less than 10m away or giving you some sob story about how they need money to call home, or a cup of coffee, or they've locked their keys in their car and need to call their equivalent of the RACQ. To prove his point a couple of COMPLETELY out of it people came up to us asking for $. Tim jumped at them shouting boo and they freaked out, apologised and went on their way. Another 5 minutes later another one's asking us for $, so Corrie threw a handful of pennies on the pavement which to my sadness, they chased until they found every last one. They will offer you drugs, they will ask for money, but you just need to say no, give them a smile and they're soon on their way to bug the next pedestrian.

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