VANCOUVER ON A SUNDAY

The seagulls are huge. The first time one landed beside me I thought perhaps it was a dodo.

I walk to Canada Place, where my self-guided tour of public art begins. In a repeat of obstacles I will meet during my stay, a number of the roads are closed as construction continues for the winter Olympics to be held here in 2010. Around the water, new and boring apartment towers are growing like feral grass, like they grow around the Docklands in Melbourne. It looks the same the world over. Or does it? If I turn my back on them and look out across the water, my eye snags on a floatplane picking up speed and rising up above the orange buoys, the harbour walks, the masts of the yachts, above the evergreens of the park, leading my gaze to the mountains behind the city, dark blue and white, now behind a cloud, now gleaming as snow slips off the slopes.

Throughout my stay, my first impressions of the airport become second, third, fifteenth impressions of the city: water. Fountains, waterwalls, features, waterfalls, bays, a gentle rain that arrives without comment or excitement and leaves with the slightest breeze. Every time I walk past another pool in another courtyard I almost cry.

fountains /
water / dry
trickles / dry
/ concrete / tulips
/ bleached / bloom
/ yellow / cloud on mountains
/ dry
i am not homesick / until i think
i am /
/ so thirsty
and i like it here /

I wander around the marina, stop in this park to drink in the magnolias and apple blossoms, in the next to watch a Canada goose grazing in a lawn speckled with tiny daisies, and then again on the pier to examine the barnacles and mussels on the wood. There is a scratched up sign telling all arrivals to Canada to report to customs and immigration immediately. There are rows of tulips and pansies in every garden.

At Lost Lagoon I sit for a while on a park bench, watching the geese grooming themselves, twisting their necks and flipping upside down in the water, legs kicking and wings beating as they perform what may be a practical but is certainly a less-than-elegant toilette. I choose the paths closest to the water, the unsealed paths, the tracks that are quieter, without toddlers throwing bread at ducks and children learning to control their scooters. At one point I pause to watch a photographer sitting a short way off the path, offering almonds to little grey squirrels as payment for their pictures. Later I see a tourist couple trying the same trick with a black squirrel, but this one grabs the nut and scampers off around a tree trunk. Mute swans glide carefully amongst the branches at the edge of the lagoon, and small ducks – black and white ones, tiny speckled ones – paddle timidly in the quieter areas, while the wood ducks (as the information sheet said they would) hang around like pigeons waiting for food.

I take some random paths, confident I’m heading in the right direction, and soon find myself at Second Beach, where I buy myself some fries and a cup of tea, and am once again overwhelmed by the array of condiments available. I choose green pickle and ketchup and sit myself down on a wall near the beach. It’s colder now, so I’m wearing my scarf and beanie. I have noticed a distinct lack of beanie action in Vancouver (and LA, but it was hot there), and I wonder if the looks I get when wearing it indicate that it’s obvious I’m not a native. Wandering along the beach paths, I see a few people selling pictures, playing guitars, etc. I also eventually find the highrise apartment with the tree planted on top – apparently that’s the height to which the trees used to grow in this area. It’s astonishing to think, and I wish I could have seen them. As my feet begin to hurt, I stop more frequently on the way towards the bridges, watching a game of roller-hockey and admiring the strange untitled black ball sculpture in a random suburban feeling plaza.

Eventually I make it back to the hotel, and check the time (I don’t have a watch or phone with me). It’s after 5:30, and I’ve been walking and looking for just over six hours. I collapse after having a shower and rubbing my feet (I wish Dan was here to do it for me!), and write a few postcards, buy some internet time, listen to some music. Later in the evening I go out (it gets dark quite late) and realise this area of town is clearly the seedy area at night. Mind you, seedy in Vancouver is hardly too obnoxious, so I feel quite OK about wandering around a few blocks and finding another Crepe Café. I hope to replicate the delicious one I had in LA with Grace, but it is not quite so delicious. Maybe it’s true what they say about good company being important to the flavour.

I fall asleep in my own (borrowed) space for the first time since I left home, and sleep without interruption until the morning.

AUCKLAND AND LA: 1

Sitting in Auckland airport, have 2 hours before we leave, 1 hour to check in. Flight from Melbourne arrived slightly earlier, so we have longer to wait. We’ve found a business desk in the terminal where you can use wireless . . . FOR MONEY. But I’m too stingy for that.


Az and me.

Instead I can tell you about the clouds that looked like flocks of sheep, the wing bouncing in the mild turbulence on the way into Auckland, the flight attendant who busied himself getting me a vegetarian meal because (surprise, sur-frikking-prise) they didn’t have one for me. Apparently Air New Zealand only do meaty and vegan meals from Melbs to Auckland, and if you’re not vegan you supposedly must eat meat. Bizarre. Have checked to make sure I’ll get vegetarian meals on the way to LAX. I plan to sleep a lot on this next flight.

I was dropped off at the airport by Saj and Es, and got lots of hugs from them and Dan before going through the chompy gates of doom. Met Az at the airport and also got to meet his brother and mum, yay! Have not yet been harassed for gender variance, but have been misread all over the place. The man at check-in had to “go and check something with the passports”, the boarding staff checked my pass and called me “Jonathan” when most other people were “Sir” and “Ma’am”, and the meal-hunting flight attendant (who produced a very nice meal in the end) called me “Miss Williams”. I’ve decided to use the men’s toilets for this whole trip – just suck it up and get used to it.

I watched “The Golden Compass” during the flight. Wow, it’s packed with awesome actors, isn’t it? It was quite fun, but obviously not as rich as the book, and I still feel like there’s something missing, something that makes it all a little . . . flat. I found with the books, too, that they felt a bit “and then, and then, and then” – that is to say, saga-iffic. I suppose, though, that it’s not a whole story, so you have to take it in the context of the trilogy. Of which I’ve only read 2, because the death of my favourite character just made me stop caring. *Sigh*

OK, enough rambling. I’ll write more from LA and post it when I arrive. Ciao.


lights below the clouds
swimming ghostly in the night
I see atlantis

slow, a rim of light
dawn slips across the planewing
we sink through our dreams



Rohan and me

Arrived safe and sound. Was picked up by Rohan, Trav and Tasha, and waved goodbye to Az at LA. The 12 hours from Auckland to LA could have been worse – they could have been slightly better with more sleep, too. Strangely, I’m not feeling too jetlagged, just very tired as I might be on any night if I only got 5 hours sleep.

As soon as I arrived at Rohan’s I felt I was really in America – Venice beach was in full weekend mode, with the footpath market pulsing. Mats gridded with handpainted, bejewelled skulls, a different band every twenty metres, photos, paintings, beggars, people on bikes (all with enormous curved handlebars – seems to be the thing over here). Rohan pointed out the landmarks – the place Romy and Michelle live in High School Reunion, the basketball courts, the outdoor gym where one might linger to admire/gape unbelievingly at the enormously muscled, sweaty and oiled men. The fake boobs. I had strawberry lemonade (lemons, sugar, real strawberries), then we went to the drug store (actually called a pharmacy) and got A GALLON of milk and some bagels and BUTTER IN STICKS. AHAHAHA!

Then I had a powernap and we caught the bus to Rohan’s beau’s house in and played boardgames and drank wine and OMG RAW BROCCOLI WITH RANCH DRESSING! And now I’m nicking their wireless and eating VEGETARIAN HOT DOG WITH TOMATO SAUCE AND MUSTARD. YUM! And Rohan made bean curry!

I can’t wait to go to sleep.

I hope you're all well.