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Published: September 6th 2007
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The five or so months I had spent in Latin America were undeniably the best of my life to date. Along with all the amazing experiences and fun times, the journey had exposed me to many cultures, personalities and scenarios which helped to develop a set of personal skills which previously either didn’t exist, or lay dormant. Never before had I been forced to look out for myself without anyone else’s assistance for that length of time, and as I flew from Guatemala to Vancouver it was with a distinct sense of satisfaction that I pondered the fact that I had managed to avoid any serious mishaps.
All this talk of personal skill development notwithstanding, a sense of joy swept over me as I touched down at Vancouver airport knowing that my mother, father, sister and brother-in-law-to-be would be waiting for me at the gates, and that over the next few weeks I needn’t draw on any of my newly discovered survival and personal security instincts. A happy-go-lucky, irresponsible, slobbish lifestyle held an irresistible allure for me at that moment, and what better place to live it than Vancouver.
Occupying an incredible landscape setting and a perennial contender for
the title of the ‘world’s most livable city’, Vancouver would be at once a real ‘head turner’ and the ‘girl next door’ if it was a woman. Better still, it is populated by Canadians (surprise surprise) - the most polite, placid and wholesome people in the world. Never before had I seen cars pull to a stop on a main road before to give way to a single pedestrian standing on the side of the road waiting to cross. There is no need to teach Canadian children to “look left, then right, then back to the left again” before crossing. Pedestrians are at a greater risk of being sprayed by a skunk than getting hit by a car in Vancouver. Some people would be put off by Canada's wholesomeness, but I think it's fabulous.
My mum and dad were in town for the first three days of my stay, and the opportunity for some family bonding was most definitely seized upon. Thankfully we were blessed with some great weather and were able to get out and experience the glorious outdoor lifestyle of a Vancouver summer. George and Matt lived in Kitsilano, a beautiful neighbourhood on the southern shore of
The lads at Quadra Island
Matt, HJT, Ash and Jo (aka Shabidoo) English Bay. The area positively shone on a good day, with crowds packing the beach and the foreshore, walking dogs, flinging frisbees, and cooking barbecues.
With the sun shining and having not set foot on a golf course in over 5 months, I was particularly eager to get out and swing the blades. I got my opportunity when I headed out to University Golf Club with the old man for a titanic clash between father and son. Unsurprisingly, given my lengthy stint in the spelling paddock, I didn’t bring my A game to the course with me. I struggled to find my D game in fact. Despite my abysmal short game and the fact that I was taught a golfing lesson by the big fella (eventually losing the match 5 and 4) it was one of the more enjoyable rounds of golf I’ve ever had. Considering my ordinary form, I was glad that we were paired with a couple, one of whom hadn’t played before and struggled to get the ball in the air let alone worry about where it went. Seeing a beginner top more than a few balls is hardly out of the ordinary, but I was
suitably amazed when he somehow managed to fire a ball straight at the old man and hit him square in the thigh. Taking into account that my dad was at the time standing a good 20 metres away at a 45 degree angle behind the bloke, this was a remarkable feat which to my mind defied the laws of physics. Terrific stuff, but not good enough to bring down the old warhorse while he’s steaming home to victory.
Having waved the folks goodbye the day after the round of golf, I pondered my options for filling the next couple of days while George and Matt were at work. Perhaps it was the non-stop travel over the previous 5 months catching up with me, but at that point there was nothing I’d have rather done than relax at home with a few DVD’s, so that’s precisely what I did.
I was wrenched from my inactivity that weekend when we all headed across to Quadra Island, just off the north coast of Vancouver Island, for a weekend at the holiday home owned by the parents of Liz, George and Matt’s neighbour and landlady. As luck would have it, it turned
Still got it
HJT putting one on the dancefloor at UBC Golf Club out to be a palatial lakefront retreat complete with its own marina. Better still, Liz’s parents turned out to be gourmet gurus who enjoyed nothing more than toiling away in the kitchen churning out outstanding culinary delights. The key element of every meal was prawns, fresh from the prawn traps in the bay which we'd head out to on the boat and pull up a couple of times a day. When it was my turn to pull up the trap there was barely any prawns to be had, just a large, slimy, dark red octopus. Typical of my luck.
The following week both Matt and I were keen for a fix of live sport action, so we headed into town to the home of the BC Lions of the CFL (Canadian Football League), BC Place. Neither of us knew a whole lot about the game (which is similar to American football but has a few different rules, slightly larger field etc) aside from the fact that Kramer prefers it to the American NFL. We were nonetheless treated to an entertaining contest in which the Lions, reigning premiers, exploded out of the blocks with a touchdown 30 seconds into the
Go team
Matt outside BC Place before the BC Lions game game, and were from that point on troubled by current cellar dwellers, the Hamilton Tigercats, running out narrow winners. The crowd were so very Canadian, tending towards a passive, good-natured enjoyment of the spectacle for what it was, rather than taking a personal, emotionally charged interest in the outcome like an AFL crowd might. For mine it lacked a bit of edge in that sense.
On the other hand, the crowd at Splashdown (Vancouver's premier waterpark) certainly did not lack enthusiasm. This was probably due to the fact that the average age of the patrons was barely into double figures. After seeing the ad on TV, Matt and I decided that we had no choice but to head there ASAP. I don't think I'll ever be too old for waterslides. Doubtless, many would have disagreed when they saw the two of us giggling and screaming with excitement like young girls as we waited in the queue before hurtling down the slides. After excitedly recounting the day's highlights and discussing our favourite slides on the bus on the way home, we calculated that we were the only people there above the age of 15 other than those who were there
Capacity crowd
HJT struggling to find a seat inside a packed BC Place with their children. It was a fantastic day though, well worth the ignominy.
I ended up extending my stay in Vancouver by a few days for the sole purpose of attending the premiere of the Simpsons Movie with Matt, the Lennie to my Carl for many years now. I had been waiting restlessly for this release for over a decade by that stage and knew that I had to experience such a defining moment in my life with a fellow Simpsons aficionado. Similar to an AFL Grand Final, the screening was bookended by both a spirited discussion of what we were expecting to see, and a comprehensive review of the terrifying lows (there weren't any), the dizzying highs and the creamy middles. Needless to say, it was an affair to remember.
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