Flying, Fauna And Floodgates That Wouldn’t Shut
There was a thick cover of cloud just hovering on top of the Harbour this morning. It looked so eerie. The sun was shining again, proving Raincouver can turn it on occasionally and that we were in the right place at the right time.
Ross had his first full day of conference today and after ironing his shirt and tying up his laces, he was off for breakfast with his professional posse, leaving Maisy and I to our own devices for the day.
Our first destination was Flyover Canada, a simulation ride, in the same vain as Soarin’ Over California, from Disneyland, but entirely Canadian. The ads had sucked us in and we felt compelled to try it. After a quick safety preamble, we, along with our fellow tourists, loaded into our ‘aeroplane seats’, buckled up and sat back to enjoy the ride. And enjoy it we did! It was absolutely awesome and had us low flying over paddocks of wheat, icebergs, fishing holes, city skylines, vast mountain ranges, pristine lakes, ice hockey matches, big surf, steep snow-covered ski runs and the rugged Rockies. So low in fact, I found myself pulling my knees up to avoid being hit. The ride advertised ‘wind, mist and scents’ which, ‘combined with the ride’s motion, would create an unforgettable experience’. Now the experience was unforgettable and we did get the mist and wind but we were not too sure about the scents. I was looking forward to sniffing those wild horses as they thundered past or whiffing the fish the indigenous Canadians were gutting on the ice, or even the sweat of the ice hockey players as they shot for goal. I had my nostrils flared and poised in readiness for the assault but alas, no fragrance other than the faint B-O of the guy in the seat next to me came forth. It was a missed opportunity really. In all seriousness though, it showcased what an amazing, beautiful and diverse country this is.
Feet firmly planted back on terra firma, we planned to visit the Vancouver Aquarium, nestled in the heart of Stanley Park, where we’d cycled yesterday. Without a big rail network, Vancouver’s main public transport system consists largely of buses. After some consultation with some friendly locals – all the locals are super friendly – we discovered we needed to catch the Number 19 bus to Stanley Park, leaving only from certain bus stops.
Eventually we found the right stop and boarded the no. 19. I hadn’t bought a Compass Card yet so I tentatively asked the bus driver if I could pay in cash, brandishing my crisp $5 note in front of him & hoping for the best. “Oh no”, was his reply, “we only take coins”. Wishing I’d done my research better, we went to turn and get off the bus but he closed the door and told us not to worry, telling me I could tap the ticket scanner at the front with my credit card…if I wanted to. So I thought I should. One tap sent the machine flashing red and emitting a loud bbbboooohhhhh, bbbboooohhhhh, bbbboooohhhhh alarm and had the entire bus-full of curious passengers looking my way. I’m not sure what possessed me but I tapped again just for good measure. Now I really had their attention. The bus driver was so casual that when I asked if I should try a different card he said “oh, if you like”. You could hear a pin drop as everyone waited for my second card attempt and when it flashed green, with a big tick showing, there was a little round of applause.
Vancouver Aquarium was excellent. They boasted having over 50,000 marine creatures, which does sound a lot. Maybe they included the plankton? We saw all kinds of fish (or as they say in Canada: fishes), otters, seals, numerous varieties of jellyfish, a big old walrus, an elusive dolphin named Helen, poisonous little frogs – almost too colourful and cute to be real – and there was even an exhibit full of cane toads. *Spoiler alert: if you’re planning to go, don’t read this next bit. The 4D Shark movie was pretty graphic! It showed David Attenborough-type footage of a shark catching and eating a seal, in all its technicolor, full 4D glory! At the very point in the movie where the shark comes up and bites the seal in the back, our seats let out a spike that stabbed us in the back. Talk about interactive. Everyone walked out of the theatre in a state of shock (still rubbing their backs!).
Maisy’s class at school has been looking in-depth this year, at plastic pollution, ways to minimise single-use plastic, its affect on sea life etc. She had to write some ‘slam poetry’ (like a rap with a social conscience) about the horrors of this non-biodegradable waste. The Aquarium certainly had a similar anti-plastic focus and as we walked through the art installation that was all about being overrun by plastic, Maisy recited it for me. It was very cool. On our way out they showed us the snap they’d taken of us in front of the green screen. They’d superimposed us into the ocean, a pristine environment, amongst the turtles and sharks. There I am, standing unashamedly with a plastic bag in my hand. What an environmental vandal. It’s a wonder Maisy will still talk to me.
Tonight we’d been invited to dinner at the home of Tanya and Matt (who were mutual friends with our friend Julie & who we’d met at church). Maisy and I had popped back to the hotel briefly to get changed and go. Maisy had visited the ‘washroom’ and had perhaps been a little over enthusiastic with the toilet paper. She had flushed, but because the Canadian toilets, like those in the USA, are already sitting at the high tide mark, I hadn’t realised it was blocked when I sat down myself. The minute I pulled the flush lever, a violent Vesuvius-like eruption was released with a whoosh from our throne. Great volumes of water (& other fluids but let’s not think about that) were gushing forth from the bowl, overflowing at a rapid rate without ceasing. OH MY GOSH! At first we couldn’t stop laughing. What was happening? It was bubbling like a cauldron and just kept coming. I rolled up my sleeve and plunged my arm in (what was I thinking?) but couldn’t locate the blockage. With a high degree of panic we threw all the towels we had, on the floor and put an SOS call through to reception. Despite calling it an ‘emergency’, no one came to our aid immediately. We’d formed a dyke at the doorway but this thing was relentlessly pumping water over the rim and we thought we may have to swim out. With the water rising to ankle deep, Maisy volunteered to run down in person and alert them of the outrageousness of our overflow and brought back with her our plunger-wielding saviour. He was a man of very few words but he knew his way around an S bend and just like that, the flow was stemmed. He disappeared once his work was done and was replaced by a lovely young girl who took one look at the deluge and audibly gasped. She must have gone through 50 towels, so sodden she had to call in reinforcements to help carry them out. All this quite ironic since we’d opted to make ‘A Green Choice’ by forgoing housekeeping visits during our stay. We were supposed to be saving 32.7 gallons of water but in reality, we drained the local waterways and put Vancouver in drought. Told you I was an environmental vandal.
Well, after that ordeal it was lovely to sit and have dinner with Matt and Tanya & their three beautiful kids, Elly, Fleur and Beck, in their ‘Vancouver Special’ house – one of thousands of identical houses built between 1965 and 1985, to house mainly migrant families in the Vancouver area. Tanya cooked us a delicious dinner and we all got on like a house on fire, chatting for hours about everything from politics and religion to Canadian slang. We also learnt that Canadians call beanies ‘tuques’ so you learn something every day.
