26 September 2016 – No, I am not in Toronto any more. I am walking north across the Cambie St. bridge in Vancouver, hanging over the rail with my friend Louise to admire dragon boats beneath & mist-draped mountains beyond.
We are going walkies, Louise & I, not out to do a bucket list of Vancouver sights, though she is indeed taking me on a sort of tour. Along the way we will drink good coffee, surely enjoy some kind of organized art exhibition (she is an artist, as well as an ESL teacher), but, most of all, we will enjoy the quirky sights that amuse her in her own rambles.
I am all for quirky.
Next up, a quirk indeed — revealed if you carefully position yourself just so on Homer at Smythe to view the heritage building diagonally opposite.
“See?” she says, gleefully. “It’s called ‘The Homer,’ but from here, the tree obscures the second word. You can imagine it is known simply as ‘The.'” We giggle, and swap memories of a greasy-spoon icon in Toronto’s Beaches neighbourhood, known locally as ‘The Goof,’ since some burned out letters mutilate the proud neon claim of ‘Good Food.’
Just a little down Homer from The The, we contemplate a sidewalk that makes way for a tree.
People & their dogs swerve right & left; the tree continues to stretch ever more majestically into the sky.
Still on Homer, but down in (I think) the Yaletown neighbourhood by now, and a quick detour into one of Louise’s favourite cafés. She loves the coffee, the food, the old building and, most especially, the name.
Tourists get to ask the obvious question. I learn that the owner believes we should notice & celebrate any small victory that comes our way — including good coffee.
Down at Hamilton & Helmcken now, definitely prowling Yaletown, I shrug past glittering shops to stroke the twist of rusty metal that makes this bench a sculpture.
l laugh when Louise points out the refrigerated units inside Living Produce Aisle. Reflected towers jumble the shot, but focus on those living sprouts, just waiting for your selection. I know similar stores are found else where, but it does seem… so very west coast.
We loop back on ourselves, find ourselves again on Homer with The The in sight. This time approaching from the other direction, with other things to admire.
Nature’s gift of sparkling blue hydrangea blossoms …
and the City’s gift of scattered leaves, pressed into these sidewalk slabs as they were being laid.
Quick steps into another café, this time not for the name on the wall but for the chandelier — of coffee cups, what else?
We lunch at some point, on an outdoors patio ( take advantage while you still can), and then check out this year’s Word on the Street — a festival of tents and vendors and talks celebrating books & literacy. We visit a whole stretch of tents on the closed street bordering the Vancouver Public Library central branch.
Where, to my delight, I see they have quite literally posted various words on the street.
I had to look it up. I means a tambourine or similar instrument.
More tables & displays just inside the library, in we go.
Soaring architecture, as you may notice — the 1995 work of Israeli-Canadian architect Moshe Safdie, who first stamped himself on Canadian (and world) consciousness with his Habitat ’67 complex in Montreal.
We acquire pins & bookmarks & leaflets and even a book apiece, then visit the library itself — eventually up to the Special Collections on the 7th floor, where we also see the maquette for the building as it will appear once the planned 8th & 9th floors (complete with public rooftop park) are added.
One art gallery visit only, to the Bill Reid Gallery on Hornby, which honours Haida Gwaii culture, and his personal contribution to that culture — both in greater public profile and respect, and in the jewelry, sculpture, paintings and other artistic works he created imbued with its spirit. If you have a 2004 Canadian $20 bill, you possess an example of his work: it features two of his sculptures, Raven, and Spirit of Haida Gwaii.
There are many other images & examples of his work (and other artists) in the Gallery, but I am especially moved by this quiet portrait hanging in the stairwell.
Finally, late afternoon, we head back south. We’ll meet again for dinner, but for now we part, Louise to home, me to my Airbnbn nest in Mount Pleasant.
At Broadway & Main, I look north to the water.
The mist has lifted, the mountains dance in the sunlight.