So much Food!

Back in Vancouver we countered our week of healthy outdoor loving with a day of total indulgence. We met up with Penny, Jason and George's friend Richard who was visiting from England - Richard is Penny's brother. To start the day off we headed to the Cambie to watch the final of the World Cup, it was rammed, we just grabbed the last table. The support between Argentina and Germany was pretty even, so tensions were high. Finally after all that extra time we could head off to our next appointment, the plan was to go to the Food Cart festival, this was easily one of the things that George was most excited about. So we headed across the bridge to the disappointing venue of concrete car park, with the sun ridiculously hot again there was minimal shade. 

The food carts however definitely made up for it, everything from Oriental to Pizza and Hot Dogs to Curry, the selection was amazing. I myself went for spicy pork rice dish, whilst George really mixed up the different cultures with some Japanese style fried chicken followed by a curry wrap. You know a standard combination. Anyway it was super tasty and made that much better by my table nabbing skills that got us a spot in the highly valued shade. We braved the waves of heat radiating off of the ground for as long as possible before giving in and buying an artisan Ice lolly - a blackberry mojito which was delightfully alcoholic - and heading down to the water. 

Fortunately there was a bar that exclusively sells craft beers next to the water, so that was a logical way to continue the day, we sat there for a couple of hours enjoying the glorious weather, watching the kayakers in the bay and tasting the beer. They do little tasting 'flights' where you pick 3 different ones to sample, which is fun until you make a terrible choice. 

Penny then mentioned a night market in Richmond that had a load of different Chinese and Japanese foods, and as we had spent all day eating and drinking we were obviously starting to feel a little peckish. 

The night market is a collection of Asian food stands, cheap iPhone cases and genuine samurai swords and switch blades. Personally I opted for something a little less lethal, a pair of socks with pandas on. The food on offer seemed to be an equal combination of awesome and hazardous; there was dim Sum and ramen on the healthier end of the spectrum, with deep fried cheesecake and rotatoes occupying the artery clogging end. So after being greeted by this little old guy singing away in traditional Chinese style - he was still going when we left several hours later - we made a beeline for the food.

Now wary of peaking too soon we looped all the food stands before making any decisions, this was important, we didn't want to behave too rashly. What we were all pretty sure about was the Rotato, it's deep fried potato, cut so it spirals down a skewer, then flavoured with various flavourings. So the end result is a kind of like skewered thick crisps, I went for Salt and Vinegar (obviously) George decided on pizza. Both were incredibly tasty, even if the predominate thought going through my mind was OMG I'm eating a whole potato covered in salt! 

We then split up and all chose different things rice noodles, tasty meat skewers, dim sum you name it, we had it. It was all pretty scrummy. As it darkened it started to get crazy busy, so much so you had to push through the hordes of people queuing just to get from stall to stall. 

After a little wander to help us digest our mains we headed back to the food for the big daddy, The Deep Fried Cheesecake, now personally I didn't indulge (cheese isn't my thing) but George described it as 'sour, like a sour, chewy bite of disappointment.' Well worth $6 then. Anyway after that we headed home with ridiculously overfull stomachs.

On Tuesday to help burn off all those calories we'd accrued we went kayaking with Penny and Richard, we headed back to Deep Cove the scene of our less than successful hike. Luckily the sun was shining and for even us to get lost in the bay would have been a struggle. So we hired some kayaks, and headed off to some islands that are supposedly quite nice to meander about. 

It was an absolutely spectacular day, hot (but not sticky courtesy of the sea) sunny and there were loads of people on the water. As we headed out the wind was against us making the going pretty tough to begin with, because of this us girls lagged behind a bit and to pass the time the boys invented a new use for the water pumps. They turned those water bailing devices into water guns, I mean how could one not! 

George also started showing off by speed kayaking without paddles, which was only slightly annoying. We paddled round the island, which whilst tiny had a couple of houses on it, and then headed back into the Cove. 

This time we were helped both by the tide and wind so it was far more relaxed, except for when a big boat would fly past and the wake hit us turning it into a mini rollercoaster. Fun! After a couple of hours we messed around before turning back in, on the way a seal popped up right next to us. It was so cool, it just chilled there for a couple of minutes bobbing up and down before disappearing below the water. A pretty awesome way to finish the kayak. 

I unfortunately continued my weird tan/burn line streak with semi circles on my legs from where the kayak blocked the sun. Looking good.

All in all a pretty good way to spend our last couple of days in Vancouver before heading South. 

White Water Rafting and Hungover Hiking

After a weekend of full on downpours, and barely venturing out of the house for fear of being washed away, Monday brought scorching hot sunshine. We'd agreed to meet up with Dan, a friend of George's to do the Grouse Grind. It's a hike up to the top of Grouse mountain, which can be reached by cable car for the rather steep price of $45. Now I was aware that it's a relatively taxing hike up, consisting mainly of natural steps; in fact it is a 2.9 km hike with an elevation gain of 853m and 2830 stairs. However I didn't quite grasp how hard it would be, I was so naive about it that I'd gone for a run that morning, in hindsight I most definitely wouldn't advise both. 

So blissfully unaware of what awaited we set off, initially the boys gallantly stuck at my pace, but about 20 minutes or so in I asked Dan how far up we were. I was thinking somewhere between 1/3 to 1/2 way up, but no we hadn't even reached the 1/4 mark yet. At this point my optimism began to falter, and I could only think of the relief of the shade offered to us by the forest. The guys began to pull ahead and would periodically be waiting for me. There are lots of different types of people doing the grind, those drenched in sweat pushing for a good time, tourists and groups of friends just enjoying the walk and people who must do it at least once a week they look so at ease. 

Unfortunately an Indian man decided to use me as his pace setter, I would appear round the corner and he would stand up and get going. Now this would have been only mildly irritating, opposed to full on grating, if it weren't for the incessantly tinny Bollywood music being produced by his mobile. When this audibly distressing noise became too much I would stop, wait for him to pass, leave enough time for him to plough ahead, and set off. A couple of minutes later I would round a bend to see him sitting there, and as I passed he would begin again. This continued for about a third of the way up, and caused my enjoyment of the whole thing to plummet. George and Dan however found this hilarious, my thought was if you can't enjoy the sound of nature, PUT IN HEADPHONES! 

As we neared the top blue began to appear in the green of the canopy above, and the staircase became more regular. With my eyes on my feet I pushed the last quarter quite hard - partially to avoid the Bollywood - and paused only to watch a frail looking old Chinese woman carefully place her feet on each step. Slowly and carefully she negotiated the roots and slippy rocks, it was very impressive to see her make her way up. Pretty inspiring, if she could do it then no one else had reason to complain. I reached the top in 1h41, to the sight of the boys lounging in the sun, they'd completed it in 1h30. 

As a reward we went to the viewpoint, which offers a great view of Vancouver. Off in the distance is Mt Baker, the sight of it got my ski legs itching. 

We then headed off to see the grizzlies in the enclosure at the top, but were distracted first by Beavertails - a super tasty flat doughnut - then by the lumberjack show. 

It showed you all the old tricks and techniques lumberjacks would use before the arrival of chainsaws. It was pretty entertaining and filled with the pre requisite corny family jokes. 

Then we went to see Grinder and Coola who grew up in the enclosure after they were orphaned as cubs. 

Suitably amused by our day we headed down in the cable car, you aren't allowed to walk back down, and even if we were I don't think my legs would have fancied it. 

Our next adventure was off in Whistler, so we got up early and jumped on the minibus up to the mountains, it's only a couple of hours up the aptly named sea to sky highway. The scenery on the way is pretty stunning, turning from coves and mini mountain islands to towering monoliths covered in Glaciers with waterfalls tumbling down their sides. When we arrived we searched for somewhere to store our bags, unfortunately the storage facility is closed on Wednesdays, so we lumbered around Whistler with our camping supplies. It was absolutely scorching our entire time there, and we were soon feeling hot and sticky, however Whistler isn't renowned for its friendly prices so we settled under a tree waiting for midday. 

See instead of heading straight off to set up camp we were waiting around to watch the Argentina vs Netherlands match. We found a bar - Tapleys, everyone recommended it - and shared a table with a Dutch couple. 

Such hope! 

As we all know it didn't go so well for the orange side, but it was fun to watch it with someone who had a vested interest. Afterwards we grabbed the shuttle to our campsite which is about 10 minutes out of the village, only to discover instead of a camping spot we had a fiery pit of death to sleep on. The whole campsite was gravel, and it lacked even the tiniest patch of shade from the burning sun. 

Not very comfy.

It was so bad we couldn't venture out of the tent until the sun sunk behind a mountain at about 8:30.  Then to add insult to injury our propane canister was the wrong size for our gas ring, so our beautifully prepared bolognaise was eaten cold with a side of bread. So gourmet. 

The next day brought much excitement, we were off White Water Rafting! An early departure meant a nice walk into the village following the river, and then when we were all assembled piling in an old school bus. The journey to the river was filled with the required cringing introductions and guides making jokes. 

View from the bus.

We did the Elaho-Squamish river which has Class 4 rapids, when we finally reached it we split off into groups, luckily George and I managed to form one with other young like minded people. Essentially our guide, Pete, decided that we were all capable and steered us on a course down the biggest, and hardest rapids on offer. It was an initially nerve wracking experience but it quickly turned into a full on adrenaline rush full of fun. At one point we got out to swim, shockingly the glacier melt water was icy cold, and when Pete splashed me I got serious brain freeze. The next stage of the river was chock a block with the biggest rapids, the raft would rise up to almost 90* before plunging back down, quickly followed by a huge wave crashing into the boat! Sometimes there would be 3 or 4 big rapids in a row, for these we jumped down into the raft instead of trying to steer through them. Pete had us all alternate sitting on the bow of the raft, with our feet literally hanging over the edge. That was the freakiest moment, I could've sworn I was going to fall in, as it was I just lost balance and toppled back. Twice, obviously. The rapids ended all too soon and we spent the last half an hour drifting to the landing point, just enjoying the stunning scenery and now welcomingly warm sun. 

Upon our return to Whistler, we invited a Texan girl Hannah for a drink. In no rush to return to our gravel lava pit we wiled away a few hours drinking, eating and comparing countries. 

George tried Poutine, a Canadian delicacy. 

We discussed everything from healthcare to the Louisiana farmers on the rafting trip - she described them as Swamp people - to sports - we pointed out it's not a World Series if America are the only ones who play. Dinner turned into more drinks until we ended up at Garfinkel's, apparently the locals club? (Please don't quote me on that) Anyway we proceeded to drink and dance the night away, met up with the rafting guides who introduced us to these amazing rum and caramel shots and then watch a massive fight break out. It was crazy, the barmen jumped over the bar, the security guys were outmatched. Somehow it was ended, however half of the group were now stuck outside unable to get back in, after an inordinate amount of time looking for each other we reassembled. The decision was made to head to someone's flat, when the sun started to rise we decided to make our exit - the plan was to go hiking the next day - and wandered back to our now cool campsite, watching the sun turn the mountains pink. 

Waking up in a sun baked tent with a hangover is not ideal, what's even worse is walking back up to the village in relentless heat, especially when you have all your camping equipment on your back. In their infinite wisdom the campsite had a shuttle that ran at 10 and then not again until 2. 

When we reached the village we dumped our bags, as the storage shop was thankfully open. Our plan was to head up and do a longish hike around whistlers summit, given our not so fresh state and our late start we weren't quite so keen on the idea. We bought tickets and headed up anyway, it's about 15/20 minutes in the gondola up to the Peak 2 Peak station. 

The Peak 2 Peak links The Whistler and Blackcomb mountains and ski areas, it's a 4.4 km gondola across the dividing valley and takes 15 minutes. The views are pretty incredible, but looking right down to the valley floor is most definitely in freak out territory. 

There was still some glacier skiing on Blackcomb, and as we followed a trail we had to walk across a very slushy piste. The only people I saw skiing down were park rats, I can't imagine many other people would want to water ski in 35* heat. 

After admiring the stunning views of Whistler we settled down for a bite to eat, and began throwing breadcrumbs to an inquisitive Greyjay - otherwise known as a Whiskey Jack - big mistake. After only a couple of minutes the trees around us were filled with grey quiffs and hungry eyes, at one point there must have been at least 15 or 20. 

Bird attack!

It felt very menacing, almost like a scene from a movie, just before they start to swarm. More warily than before we finished our lunch and headed back for the return trip. As we were waiting for a gondola, one came past that was being decorated by 3 ladies, it was being filled with photos and love hearts, someone was about to propose in there. So cute!

On the Whistler side we jumped on the chairlift to the summit, it turns out walking off a chairlift is very disconcerting after years of pushing off of one. 

The Summit was very rocky and hot, despite the snow to the sides it was burning. We headed off down a trail for some more hungover hiking and walked along a massive ice wall, which came in handy when we wanted to cool down.

There was very little plant life even though it's only 2,200 m high, very far removed from the pretty vegetation of the alps. As it turns out hiking surrounded by rocks and snow makes you quite liable to burning, as I found out with my atrocious racer back tan lines. Good work me. We took the gondola back down, and on the way saw a bear gambolling in a meadow. Yes I say gambolling because he/she was reaching up for something in mid air, so I feel gambolling as a word choice is justified. Our two hour wait for the bus was sweltering, hot and muggy it was around 37*, once again we were lugging around our rucksacks and eventually resorted to a slightly shady bench to wait for the bus. Our trip back was just as gorgeous enhanced by an amazing sunset over the sea. 

There's a Bear in My Bin

So our coach ride wasn't quite as pleasant an experience on the return journey. It all started by following a woman up the coach steps, her 'dress' didn't quite cover her overly large bum. The coach itself wasn't smelling all that fresh either, it had already travelled from Calgary, about 8 hours in. Fortunately we found two seats together and settled down for the long haul, unfortunately the seats were near the toilet which was pungent. Every time someone went in or out, didn't close the door or the bus stopped/slowed a not so fragrant stench would waft down the bus. My undying enmity however was reserved for the man who used it whilst we were stopped at a service station, WHY?!? WHY WOULD ANYONE DO SUCH A THING?!?!!!???? For a couple of hours we also got to enjoy the overwhelming musk of someone who apparently hasn't washed since 1973, yummy! So it was that we finally escaped the bus with the relief of someone who hasn't had a toilet break in four hours, and headed to our digs for the night. We'd decided to stay in the Cambie hostel, which is loud, does decent beer and food and is full of travellers. First however we had to negotiate our way through Vancouver at night, which was an interesting adventure. To start with we managed to jovially brush off the homeless guy who offered to show us where we could get champagne out of the bins at the train station. However then we walked down a couple of streets that in the day seem quite innocuous, a bit run down maybe but nothing all that untoward, at night however one notices that it is essentially a street of homeless shelters and missions, which apparently have a lively drugs trade on the side. So here we were tired, weighed down with rucksacks, a little lost and confused but not wanting to get the map out until we're somewhere with a less muggy vibe. In our haste to get off the street we turn up the next block, and as we turn back to the right direction walk into a night market of sorts. I say of sorts because it was a rather bizarre selection of items lying out on the side of the street, surrounded by some pretty drugged up sellers/buyers. Some guy was selling a girls outfit from the sunglasses to the shoes, I ploughed ahead, eyes forward until we reached the bright lights of a club strip full of girls tottering in heels and guys in dodgy shirts. So finally we got out our map, standing under a street lamp with a couple of bouncers two doors down. When we reached the Cambie, sticky and sweaty - it was a very hot night - we were told we'd been moved to their other location 'just a couple of blocks away'. Needless to say we weren't all that amused but we didn't have all that much choice in the matter. So off we headed, luckily more into the city centre, and found it with little disorientation. The reason for our move was that 4 fat Japanese guys had booked a private room - 2 twin beds - and the ones in the original hostel were bigger so they put them there instead. Now I didn't mind being moved, but they could have called us to ask/inform us before we turned up, I mean why else do we put our phone numbers on those booking forms? We dumped the bags and went to a pizza place that was surprisingly still open and actually quite nice, we then pretty shortly after collapsed.

Much needed fuel.

Sunday arrived and we decided to go for a walk through the city down to Stanley Park. It was a gorgeous sunny day, so we took our time walking down through the city, along Denman street which is full of lots of different cuisines. We stopped off for a bit at English Bay beach, enjoying watching the sailing boats and kayaks out in the bay. Then we headed off to Pitch & Putt in Stanley Park, I started strong but unfortunately my putting skills turned out to be wanting, and George beat me, not great.

Typical Golfing attire.

The most notable thing though was the Coyote that came to watch everyone play, at first we thought he was a dog, but no just a coyote chilling in the sun.

Oh hey there Mr. Coyote.

As we finished our game the dark clouds started to gather and a couple of spots of of rain were felt. Obviously we'd left our anoraks in the bottom of the big bag, which was still in the hostel, will we ever learn? 

So we found an authentic looking Chinese restaurant called 'Legendary Noodle', we were the only Caucasians in the tiny restaurant , everyone else was Chinese, always a great sign. The food was delicious, some of the best Chinese outside of China, and I got a bit of speaking practice in. Our waitress was so cute, even though she was the only one in the restaurant when something happened in the football - Greece vs Costa Rica - she would stop what she was doing and watch the TV. Whilst she was literally in the middle of taking our order, she paused and concentrated all her attention on the match. So we spent a couple of hours eating, watching the footie and waiting for the deluge to stop. Eventually we headed off and jumped on the bus back to North Vancouver. 

好吃 (tasty)

Tuesday was Canada Day, and another absolute scorcher, so we tatted up and headed into the city.

We decided to hit up Granville Island, which according to the busyness of our connecting bus, so had a tonne of other people. The bus route passed the Art gallery which is a surrounded by an open square, which was full of a massive weed festival/ market. Pungent smoke was heading skyward, marijuana was on deal - today only prices - and some savvy food cart people had set up on the street outside. We were taken aback to say the least, we knew a lot of it was grown here, a lot of people smoke it, and it is illegal. So if anyone knows how it can happen please let me know. Granville Island was bustling and we wandered around marvelling at the different food stalls, and the arts and crafts shops. George had to pull me out of a beautiful pen and paper shop, which was full of gorgeous notebooks. We were sorely tempted by some of the food, but the practicalities of carrying a massive salmon home in the heat decided us against purchasing much more than a couple of Canada biscuits.

Slightly melty biscuits.

We stopped for a drink in Bridges, a massive restaurant/ bar right on the edge of the dock. Enjoying the view of the city and the kayakers and yachts going in and out of the mariner. After a little more exploring we found a new distillery which has only been going since 2010, they make vodka, gin, white whiskey with normal whiskey coming in 2016. I had a super tasty cocktail of whiskey, lime, pineapple juice and a dash of jalapeño, George had a white whiskey Old Fashioned which I've been assured was just as good.

Avoiding the gigantic bus queue we headed across the bridge back to the city, our goal was somewhere for dinner but decent food places were few and far between the clubs and XXX shops. Luckily we found this great restaurant called the 'Fish Shack', you basically pick a fish and the way you want it cooked, fabulous!

Our plan was to jump on the Seabus, find some Gelato on the way and watch the fireworks from Lonsdale Quay. Now we succeeded in locating Ice cream and it was very tasty, the fireworks weren't so successful. We stood on the McDonalds roof and at 10 one solitary firework went off, it was big and green. We waited for the rest of the show, 5 minutes went by, then 10, then 15 and at 20 our ice creams were finished and we headed for the bus. Typically as we got off the bus we heard the boom of fireworks in the distance. Ah well you can't win them all.

We decided to go and explore what North Vancouver had to offer, and it turns out not all that much. A lot of the shops have closed down as many of the blocks are being knocked down and redeveloped, so we ended up in the Salvation Army thrift shop. What delights it had, whilst George entertained himself with a pair of leather trousers I found a book about how Winnie the Pooh represents the Taoist faith. There were many other exciting finds such as this ridiculously sized Tim Hortons mug. A guide on how to become a millionaire, and a Friends trivia board game!

An Orca car we saw on the walk down.

Later that night we heard some banging outside, and what do we see but a big black bear rifling through the bin. He was pretty sizable, and we were only standing there in our PJs, as close to the door as possible whilst still able to see him. As he was only about 10 ft away we decided against photo taking, as we thought the chances of him being startled and attacking were quite high. It was all very exciting.

The next morning however we had to clean up the aftermath, which was at least food free.

Then we headed into the city to go for a bike ride. Vancouver has a Seawall which runs from Kitsilano round Stanley Park to near Canada Place. We joined it by Yaletown and headed past English Bay Beach into Stanley Park. Along the way we admired the bay full of the massive cargo ships! and enjoyed an Older Lady with Classic FM blaring from her Boom box. 

We had to abandon the Seawall as it's only one way and we wanted to head into the forest. Never have I been in a city where there's a park big enough and quiet enough to feel as though I am in the countryside. 

We meandered our way through the towering trees, rarely seeing others, until we came upon Beaver Lake. It's a freshwater Lake that is actually drying up and turning into more of a boggy/damp area full of lush greenery. We stopped there for Lunch and one of the blackbirds with red lapels came and let George feed him from his hand. I found out they are quite sensibly named red shouldered blackbirds. 

Luckily on our post lunch travels George came across a map, which he claims was given to him by his spirit guide, this allowed us to orientate ourselves. We then headed up the hill to the far end of the park before whizzing back down to join the Seawall. We pedalled along with a view of West Vancouver on our right and the briney smell of the sea rising up from the seaweed coated rocks. 

We paused on Third beach and paddled our feet in the rather chilly Pacific Ocean. We headed onwards towards the Northside of the city, where we joined the city traffic. I have never cycled in a city before and fortunately Vancouver has a cycle lane system which partially covers the system. I was doing ok until we hit a hill and I got a bit freaked out by the cars speeding past us. I slogged up a hill with that hot sun shining in my face. It was at this point that the cycle lane became extremely discombobulating switching onto different sides of the street after each block, going both ways down a one way street. So somehow we missed our destination and ended up back on the Seawall which we just followed back to the shop. On our way back we bumped into George's friend Penny and stopped off in a brewery called Back Forty, where George ordered a Silo of beer, which was basically an oversized pint with a humorous name.

That evening we used the most insanely quick BBQ and had a whole rack o' ribs, which were de-li-cious! Super good.

Friday we headed to Deep Cove, from where we planned on following the Baden Powell trail back to Lynn Valley. It was made about 40 years ago by the Scouts of the local area. Unfortunately the only map we could find was a rather basic non descriptive one, the Baden Powell trail is luckily relatively well sign posted with these orange tags on the trees and posts at every junction... Or so we thought. 

The first section was very busy as it leads to a local viewpoint about 3.5 km up. We reached the Quarry rock lookout and scrambled up one of the rocks to have lunch. 

Then after admiring the gorgeous view carried on the now extremely quiet trail. We didn't see many other people and quickly discovered that whilst 12km might take 2 hours on the road it takes a fair bit longer when your hiking up inclines, over ridges then descending back into valleys. Also the trail is littered with staircases, so many stairs...

About 5 or 6km the signposts became worn away and we found ourselves guessing the direction we wanted to go, there was a junction where one path went up and another down. We knew we would soon have to head down to reach the bridge so opted for the lower trail. This proved to be our mistake as we ended descending a steep track with loose soil and rocks that stuck out, I even managed to slip and land on one of these rocks, happily it was my bum that hit it and nothing else, but it still hurt! 

Big trunk!

After a while we realised we had definitely lost the trail and came across a biker who pointed us in the right direction. We estimated that we walked an extra 5km or so on our 'detour', eventually we found our way back to the path and carried on through the forest enjoying the smell of pines and admiring the rocky canyons we traversed over by bridge. Finally 5 hours after we'd left we arrived back at Lynn Valley 3 hours later than we'd naively anticipated but essentially in one piece, apart from my bruised bum!!