To the village, to the aunt, to the wilderness, to Canada
When I was looking for housing, I was unpleasantly surprised by the lack of hotels in Vancouver with the required configuration – there were no triple rooms for a reasonable price, therefore I resorted to airbnb.com, where I almost immediately found a good option. And there, in the house of a certain “free artist” Dave, we headed in the morning after leaving the hospitable cruise ship.
The first question is about Vancouver: from the windows of the taxi I noticed that along many streets there are not 2 lines of trolleybus wires (round trip), but as many as 4, however, they do not intersect with each other. For what? So that trolleybuses can overtake each other? Stupid … Most likely, the lines are stretched by competing trolleybus fleets, which could not share the costs of laying them?
Dave arrived at around 11 a.m. Quiet green district, perhaps some Sikh temple nearby does not fit into the picture. Surprisingly, the door of the house was open, we entered … So. Kitchen … Bedroom … Another room where a girl in pajamas sits and stretches out on the bed: “Hello! Who are you and how did you get here?” – “So it’s open with you …” – “Ah, you must have rented a room with Dave, right? He’s sleeping now. Come on downstairs, sit down, he will wake up and show everything.” We go down to the basement and get stunned – I probably have never seen such a mess in my life: piles of some sketches of paintings (it’s not clear where most are the top and bottom), on the walls are posters with rock bands, hanging on a carnation the rickety plate “Join the cannabis legalization campaign!”, next to which a battered bong, a cassette (!) VCR covered with a long layer of dust, is adjacent to a pretty decent stereo system … Decorated the room (although not, not the room – hall!) a mighty fireplace, clogged to the top some fragments of clubs (at least, it seemed to me), and no less powerful billiard table, on which stacks of some books interspersed with ironed bed linen. But there was fast Wi-fi, this can not be taken away.
The quintessence of the impression of the home fit into one question asked by our third friend as soon as he entered Dave’s hospitable home: “Are you sure that we won’t wake up with kidneys cut out this morning?” However, the reviews on airbnb were encouraging – people honestly pointed out that “housing is not suitable for children”, but they certainly mentioned the good nature and cheerful disposition of the owners (there were five of them: three men and two girls shared the upper two floors of the house, all free artists) .
So, at about one o’clock in the afternoon, our third friend arrived in a car rented (Peter flew to Seattle the day before, picked up the car this morning and came straight to Dave, since the cruise did not fit into his vacation schedule). We began our acquaintance in Vancouver with the farthest point planned – from the Capillano suspension bridge.
Admission to the park, of course, is paid (40 Canadian dollars, then in the story about Canada all prices will be in Canadian dollars, which are about 20% cheaper than US dollars). For these $ 40, you can freely walk around the suspension bridge over the canyon (which sways at your every step), circle around calmer places (called a “walk under the tree crowns”) and go along the canyon along the trail; a couple of hours for all this is quite enough:
Well, after that it was already getting dark, and we went to the center to wander around Vancouver in the evening:
By the way, you will need coins to park the car, because not all parking meters accept cards; parking price is divine – about $ 2 per hour.
In fairness, when we returned to Dave at 9 pm, the mess was partially localized. True, a fun party was boiling upstairs. Dave himself, a man of about 50 years old with gray hair sticking out in different directions and crazy eyes, inspiredly played something on the guitar, the second man played a little more sane look on the drum; one of the girls worked: staring at another guitar with inspiration, she periodically touched it a little with a brush, drawing some strange pattern.
At night, at about 2 o’clock, we were woken up by some new guest, a half-drunk man, bursting into “our” room: “Hello! Where is Dave?” – “Fuck you, there is no Dave here!” – Peter gave him the right direction. From above, through the creaking of the guitar and the rattling of the drum, a voice came: “There is no Dave, there are guys, they came from the Czech Republic for a few days … Come better to us!”
09/30. After breakfast (God bless Starbucks!) We set off to watch Vancouver in detail. We start next to the city museum, where you can park the car for the whole day for $ 8. The museum is interesting ($ 14 entry): there are old maps that can be walked on, and exhibits from different years, and the Indian alphabet (for locals they developed a writing that only remotely resembles the Latin alphabet), and a large sheet of paper, which you can stick a color label with the answer to the question “What makes you happy?”