I’ve done surprisingly well with finding serenity in Vancouver. I’m writing this on my phone from Zoée’s flower-packed backyard, surrounded by hundreds of bees. The bees may not be relaxed, but I am.
For the love of not writing a detailed blog post on my phone, the photos will be doing the heavy lifting today.
I mentioned in the previous post how I don’t have a rate for my cat-sitting services. Perks such as being welcomed with a flower arrangement, as well as drinks and snacks to give me some extra pep for my week, are why.
Also, I love cats.
In this instance, it’s like staying at a cool AirBnB for free.
And there’s a cat!
This is not the place. It is a place at the corner of Union and Glen. Scrap the fun colours, and it is a depressing building.
This place looked more fun. “Warranties voided!!” drew me in. The folks who run this place are probably fun to hang out with. I don’t know if there is a cat, but there are lasers!
While I am glad a store like this exists, its storefront is not in the least bit inviting. True, I applied the grayscale filter to the photo; however, the full-colour version is not an improvement.
The 1/3N batteries in my Garmin Rally pedals crapped out the day before I headed to Vancouver. The last time I went looking for replacement batteries, I ended up ordering them online because I couldn’t find them at a physical store location.
But, in Vancouver, there are at least two battery stores: Battery World and the pictured Vancouver Battery.
Once I got past the metal gates and the frosted glass door, I found myself a metre away from the front desk. All the batteries were behind the counter, and at the back of the room, a massive freshwater tank. To the right of the aquarium was another door, which I imagine led to even more batteries. There was nobody at the desk, nor was there a bell for me to ring. Saying “excuse me!” isn’t my thing, so I stood in silence for a minute squinting at the fish tank (I didn’t have my glasses on me).
There is a happy ending to this titillating tale: they had exactly what I needed, and it was way cheaper than I expected.
As far as battery shops go, Vancouver Battery is a 10/10 for me.
I needed the batteries for my big day with Ben. He used to be my boss, neighbour, and riding buddy. Then, he moved to Vancouver, but he’s still a buddy who mostly rides without me (17,500km this year alone).
Of the two of us, I was the weak one. It wasn’t until after I uploaded the ride to Strava that I realized how well I’d actually done. I may have been three minutes off from my Seymour personal best, but I went on to do more than 1000m of climbing. I need to do some backpedalling on the idea that I’m not fit.
I gave my brain a workout via a game of Scrabble at Spanish Banks Beach. My opponent was Marianne. Marianne is to Scrabble what Ben is to cycling; The only way to beat either of them is by luck.
I did not get lucky. Neither did Marianne: it was not a strong game for her either. We ran out of sunlight and things got fugli. We stopped taking turns like civilized people and kicked up sand while putting down tiles as quickly as we could.
Marianne trounced me.
As we were leaving the beach, she pointed out a human-like shape sitting on one of the beach’s many giant logs.
“A flautist,” she said with a smirk. I didn’t have my glasses on me, but the word “flautist” was enough to make me giggle.
I’m not claiming that Vancouver is weirder than Victoria, but I feel like there’s more of a market in being weird in Vancouver.
How does one afford rent in Vancouver? As a pet psychic?
“Your hamster is going to die… within three years.”
Reiki for dogs?
This flower/bee combo picture is a stand-in for the vista Maggie and I got at the top of Grouse Mountain after we did the Grouse Grind. We were in complete fog until the gondola was 2/3 of the way down the mountain.
What many tourists don’t seem to understand is how the Grouse Grind isn’t a pleasant excursion through the woods: it’s 2.5kms of nonstop stairs. It is so strenuous that four defibrillators have been placed on trees along the way.
The only way to make it easier is to take lots of breaks. In my indisputable opinion, if one requires more than a few breaks, they are not ready for the Grouse Grind.
It was Maggie’s first time doing the Grind, and she did not take a single break–not that I thought she would. The gamble was whether she’d hate it as many serious hikers do. It’s crowded and there are no viewpoints until the top, but we both agree it’s a fun challenge.
My legs got some much-needed break today. I travelled south to Surrey to see my opa. He lives independently in a gated “senior-oriented” townhouse complex. I had to buzz him twice before the gate opened, and as I went through the gate, I realized the gate likely opened because someone else was arriving by car. I made Opa jump when I greeted him: he hadn’t heard the buzzer.
I asked what I could do to ensure I wouldn’t frighten him like that again. He waved it off and said it was fine. He served tea and tales from the past. I learned some more about his time in the Dutch military when they occupied Indonesia. (It was compulsory.)
Then, he surprised me with a black notebook. He said he found it among my things (I believe Dad left a box of my belongings with Opa. I went through the box last year, but didn’t find anything I deemed worthy of holding on to.)
This notebook was the one thing I would have saved had I found it last year. It was a joint journal between me and Tammy. When I moved back to Vancouver from Victoria, Tammy and I would mail this journal back and forth. We didn’t just write in it: it was more of a scrapbook of 2010.
Here’s the first page (the back is also covered in fruit stickers).
Tammy has not messaged me in over a year now, and I do not know why. I have made several attempts to reconnect. Maybe it’s time for me to accept that the friendship is over and instead treasure all the memories I had with her.
This getaway has also helped close the chapter on another relationship. I ended things with Jordi at the beginning of June, and it had been a rough two months.
I feel revitalized.
squaremeat.com 