Well, I've been up for almost 24 straight hours, came down to the hotel business center, logged on, wrote a long post, uploaded some photos, tried to load Picasa so I could size them for the blog, and the computer froze up and I lost everything. I'm so tired now I can hardly see, and I have to be up painfully early again for early departure for Whistler. So a lot of the things I was going to write tonight will have to keep.
And no pictures. That will have to wait until I can get the technology to cooperate.
THIS JUST IN: Was able to recover some of what I lost, so I'm revising this post!
The word you most commonly hear to describe Vancouver is "beautiful." Guess what: It's not hype.This is an undeniably, unequivocally, unapologetically beautiful city. Everywhere you look, at least on a sunny day like today, it's graceful, dynamic, surrounded by natural majesty and built with flair. No wonder it's growing so fast. The cab ride from the airport was more breathtaking than many cities' most postcard-ready vistas.
Anyway: When last we left our heroine, she was frantically packing on the eve of departure. Since then, she has gotten about four hours' sleep, had her departure delayed by thunderstomrs, gotten on a twin-engine prop plane to fly to Toronto, gotten lost in Lester B. Pearson Airport (the busiest airport in Canada), had her flight delayed and flown into Vancouver, meaning, when you tally it up, I have been through the two busiest airports in Canada in the same day without properly resting up first.
But when we started our descent into Vancouver and we broke out of the clouds to see those craggy, snow-topped mountains, all was forgiven. I was sitting in the middle block of seats, so the only window I could see out of was some distance away across an elderly couple. When we landed, I expected to see a patch of sky, a boxy terminal building, maybe some grass. Instead, I saw a perfect, jewel-like little miniature painting framed in the porthole. In the background were the jagged mountains, softened with fog and tipped with white under a cloudless blue sky. In the middle distance, a green meadow sprinkled with a few yellow flowers. And what was that moving in the foreground? A tiny bright speck. A car?
No. A cyclist. Of course. Perfect!
I'm staying at the Opus, a boutique hotel in the Yaletown section of the city. It's stylish and luxurious, all neutrals and smooth, shiny surfaces and glowing glass. Yaletown is populated almost entirely, it seems, by people who look -- incongruously -- both very young and very prosperous.
Vancouver has a tourist trolley that follows a convoluted route and endeavors to stop at most of the downtown hotels and noteworthy attractions. I spent a lot of time waiting for it today, and I've concluded it's best suited to tourists who have unlimited time and/or cannot walk long distances. Still, the hop-on, hop-off convenience is useful over short distances if you time it right. I ended up walking through the elaborate Millennium Gate into Chinatown, which enjoys a huge reputation but is actually a bit seedy. The best part, I think, is the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Park and Chinese garden. The park is tiny but public, while the garden comes with an admission fee. I wandered the park happily for a while, enjoying the peace and quirkiness of it. Just outside in the courtyard of the Chinese Cultural Center, the 28th Vancouver Scouts Group was drilling and holding ceremonies, mostly in uniform. Adorable Chinese-Canadian children, mostly in the "Cub" age bracket. Meanwhile, in the shade of some bamboo in the park, a couple lay on a blanket, looking like any other couple relaxing on a sunny afternoon in a park, except that the woman was lying on her back and holding in her hands a very large quartz crystal. She pointed it skyward as she welcomed interdimensional beings.
How cool is that?
I also took the elevator to the top of the Harbour Centre Tower, which offers stunning views of the Fraser River, False Creek, the UBC campus on its distant point and much of the city. On the way back to the hotel, I walked bustling Robson Street, packed with boutiques, sunglassed women with shopping bags and restaurants. It was busy and vibrant.
Dinner was completely over the top, in the best possible way. The Blue Water Cafe is all about fresh, local, beautifully prepared fish and shellfish, and it did not disappoint. The waitstaff is attentive, knowledgeable and even passionate, and the food is complex and brilliant without being fussy or precious. I had some Arctic char and sablefish that would have brought weaker people to tears, it was so melt-in-your-mouth good. (I also slurped some oysters, which people who know me will find surprising. But they were just so darned fresh!) Even the desserts were creative and delicious, full of simple, natural flavors rather than articficial goo and syrupy sweetness.
Tomorrow, it's up with the larks to board the train for Whistler! I don't really want to check out of Opus, but I'll be back. In the meantime, adventures await in Whistler as it prepares for the Olympic Games. Even the train ride should be spectacular!
And no pictures. That will have to wait until I can get the technology to cooperate.
THIS JUST IN: Was able to recover some of what I lost, so I'm revising this post!
The word you most commonly hear to describe Vancouver is "beautiful." Guess what: It's not hype.This is an undeniably, unequivocally, unapologetically beautiful city. Everywhere you look, at least on a sunny day like today, it's graceful, dynamic, surrounded by natural majesty and built with flair. No wonder it's growing so fast. The cab ride from the airport was more breathtaking than many cities' most postcard-ready vistas.
Anyway: When last we left our heroine, she was frantically packing on the eve of departure. Since then, she has gotten about four hours' sleep, had her departure delayed by thunderstomrs, gotten on a twin-engine prop plane to fly to Toronto, gotten lost in Lester B. Pearson Airport (the busiest airport in Canada), had her flight delayed and flown into Vancouver, meaning, when you tally it up, I have been through the two busiest airports in Canada in the same day without properly resting up first.
But when we started our descent into Vancouver and we broke out of the clouds to see those craggy, snow-topped mountains, all was forgiven. I was sitting in the middle block of seats, so the only window I could see out of was some distance away across an elderly couple. When we landed, I expected to see a patch of sky, a boxy terminal building, maybe some grass. Instead, I saw a perfect, jewel-like little miniature painting framed in the porthole. In the background were the jagged mountains, softened with fog and tipped with white under a cloudless blue sky. In the middle distance, a green meadow sprinkled with a few yellow flowers. And what was that moving in the foreground? A tiny bright speck. A car?
No. A cyclist. Of course. Perfect!
I'm staying at the Opus, a boutique hotel in the Yaletown section of the city. It's stylish and luxurious, all neutrals and smooth, shiny surfaces and glowing glass. Yaletown is populated almost entirely, it seems, by people who look -- incongruously -- both very young and very prosperous.
Vancouver has a tourist trolley that follows a convoluted route and endeavors to stop at most of the downtown hotels and noteworthy attractions. I spent a lot of time waiting for it today, and I've concluded it's best suited to tourists who have unlimited time and/or cannot walk long distances. Still, the hop-on, hop-off convenience is useful over short distances if you time it right. I ended up walking through the elaborate Millennium Gate into Chinatown, which enjoys a huge reputation but is actually a bit seedy. The best part, I think, is the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Park and Chinese garden. The park is tiny but public, while the garden comes with an admission fee. I wandered the park happily for a while, enjoying the peace and quirkiness of it. Just outside in the courtyard of the Chinese Cultural Center, the 28th Vancouver Scouts Group was drilling and holding ceremonies, mostly in uniform. Adorable Chinese-Canadian children, mostly in the "Cub" age bracket. Meanwhile, in the shade of some bamboo in the park, a couple lay on a blanket, looking like any other couple relaxing on a sunny afternoon in a park, except that the woman was lying on her back and holding in her hands a very large quartz crystal. She pointed it skyward as she welcomed interdimensional beings.
How cool is that?
I also took the elevator to the top of the Harbour Centre Tower, which offers stunning views of the Fraser River, False Creek, the UBC campus on its distant point and much of the city. On the way back to the hotel, I walked bustling Robson Street, packed with boutiques, sunglassed women with shopping bags and restaurants. It was busy and vibrant.
Dinner was completely over the top, in the best possible way. The Blue Water Cafe is all about fresh, local, beautifully prepared fish and shellfish, and it did not disappoint. The waitstaff is attentive, knowledgeable and even passionate, and the food is complex and brilliant without being fussy or precious. I had some Arctic char and sablefish that would have brought weaker people to tears, it was so melt-in-your-mouth good. (I also slurped some oysters, which people who know me will find surprising. But they were just so darned fresh!) Even the desserts were creative and delicious, full of simple, natural flavors rather than articficial goo and syrupy sweetness.
Tomorrow, it's up with the larks to board the train for Whistler! I don't really want to check out of Opus, but I'll be back. In the meantime, adventures await in Whistler as it prepares for the Olympic Games. Even the train ride should be spectacular!
