In Vancouver, I awake at dawn, as the sky starts to light, ready to make my getaway to the mountains, to Whistler. It is early Sunday morning and Chinatown is quiet. It’s rained, leaving a fine mist on the sidewalk. Tents from the street fair the day before still line the streets, and two police chat at the bottom of the blockaded road, keeping an eye on things. Other than an occasional pedestrian walking , it is still.
I dread the bill at the parking garage. There is a Parking Meister who stalks the over night parkers, even though overnight parking is allowed. I suspect he is an older Chinese man, fit from walking the parking garage, who methodically goes from floor to floor, exerting his authority. He leaves pink slips with notes on the windshield, even though the parking ticket is visible on the dash. I don’t understand why he does this. Nor does the ticket taker at the gateway out.
No matter. The smoke from the British Columbia fires that has blanketed the Pacific Northwest is breaking and I’m desperately in need of some sleep which I hope will be inspired by the mountain air in Whistler, as the winds shift. I walk down to the garage, take the elevator up two floors to may car. I throw the bags in the back seat, depress the clutch, turn the key and the car starts. Even at her age, the sound of her engine inspires.
I wind my way down to the ticket taker. But it’s early and she isn’t at the station yet. So I try the autopay machine, which failed to take my ticket upstairs. But it accepts it here at the exit to the garage, and now I discover why the Parking Meister has been stalking me. Without the pink slip which he leaves on the windshield and which I obediently give to the ticket taker, the machine only charges me for a few hours!
The heat and the smoke are dissipating.
I’ve unwittingly outwitted the Parking Meister!
Life is looking good.
Onto Whistler.
The Sea to Sky Highway is aptly named. Highway 99, it’s numerical moniker, does not do it justice.
Highway 99, Sea to Sky, from Vancouver to Whistler
It’s a highway sandwiched between the sea and the mountains. It broadens into a highway, then narrows in places to a winding two way road. Vast metal netting hangs over the cliffs to trap the falling boulders as nature works her way with the earth. It’s a road worthy of attention, both for the scenery and for the winding, fun drive. My trusty BMW, a 2002 all wheel drive station wagon, has a five speed stick, and she loves these roads. As do I.
It’s a moody day with low hanging clouds and spritzes of drizzle. Clouds linger over mountainous islands that seem to grow from a turquoise sea. The land is clearly living, almost as if it’s breathing as it arises from the sea. The views from the drive are beyond stunning.
Whistler, site of the 2010 Winter Olympics, is an easy hour drive north of Vancouver. Four wheel drive in the winter, but on a summer’s day, you simply get to enjoy. The road morphs from highway to two lanes and back again as it navigates a narrow path between the sea and the mountains. On this rainy day, clouds settle atop the mountains, so sightseeing along the way may be limited.
Which suits me just fine. I have my eye on some hiking and an afternoon at the spa when I get to Whistler. I want to enjoy the peace of the mountains after a hot, smoky week in the city.
***
I arrive early, too early to check in, so I park in one of the common lots. Ten dollars for the day. A bargain compared to Vancouver where parking one day cost $60.
Except that the machine charges me $50.
Is this some sort of parking karma for eluding the Parking Meister in Vancouver? I try to shrug it off, but I’m tired from a week of no sleep. I come to the wise conclusion that it’s Sunday, so nothing can be done anyway.
Given the weather, a visit to the Audain Museum seems like a good idea. The 56,000 square foot modern building is sleek and it settles into the land as if part of it. Inside glass corridors look out onto forest. It’s peaceful and stunning. Michael Audain, philanthropist and collector, built this $30 million dollar building to house his collection of almost 200 works of British Columbia art from the 18th to the 21st century. The building was designed by the award winning Patkau Architects of Vancouver. Lead architect John Patkau explains some of the challenges involved:
“To respond to primeval forces like floods and snow in the context of a west coast forest’, explains John Patkau, ‘we had to make a strong and simple design that fit into the site and drifted into apertures in existing trees.”
I enter and share my petty parking woes with the young woman at the desk. She tells me to contact the municipality. “I’m sure they’ll take care of it,” she reassures me. Like so much of my Canada experience, she seems fresh and polite, positive and kind.
I realize that my lack of sleep is seriously interfering with my perspective just now. I take a deep breath and let it go. Little did I know I should be prepared to take an even deeper breath when I entered the gallery, because the Dancing Screen in the first room will take your breath away.
The Dancing Screen, Audain Art Museum, Whistler, BC
Close up of the Dancing Screen
This screen fills the room. Intricate carvings, creatures and aqua gilded fish are immediately captivating. I am told that part of the screen opens to reveal a doorway through.
In addition to this magnificent piece of Pacific Northwest art, the museum displays 39 different First Nation masks created by the Coast Salish, Haida, Nisga’a, Haida, Tsimshian, Kwakwaka’wakw, Nuxalx, Gitk’san, Tlingit, Heiltsuk, Nuu-chah-nulth, and Nuxalk nations.
It also houses works of renown Canadian artist Emily Carr and contemporary photographer Edward Byrtynski’s series The Scarred Earth.
This collection of First Nation art is just as stunning as the Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art. It is truly a world class collection. Between runs on the ski hill, or trips to the spa, be sure to put this amazing collection on your Whistler itinerary.
First Nation Mask
***
Whistler Village
Whistler Village is thoughtfully designed. Like most ski towns, it’s a combination of shops and restaurants strategically placed around plazas, with lodging above. But Whistler did an exceptionally good job in designing this outdoor “mall”. The architecture isn’t too heavy. It’s on the eclectic side, with contemporary tones which, to me, feel much better than the heavy mountain designs of some ski villages that, in time, I think will feel dated. There is plenty of open space and vistas of the surrounding mountains. And the unexpected addition of outstanding art offers interest beyond the outdoors.
But the outdoors is what Whistler is about. This weekend there is mountain bike race and the crowds gather around the finish line at the base of one of the hills.
Bikes for rent in Whistler Village
From the 2010 Winter Olympics, a look at this phenomenal ski town in its winter element:
Whistler is beyond beautiful, but for me it evokes mixed feelings. I look at daring ski runs that I won’t ski and it brings back many ski memories from other mountains. I was a very good skier. I once had someone stop me and comment on how graceful I looked skiing a mogul field. And I loved moguls. Not the nearly vertical Volkswagen sized bumps, but the more moderate fields where you could choose a line and follow it through the terrain. There is a certain grace and elegance of being in the flow as you navigate the slope. I’m lucky to have experienced it, but I also feel the loss.
Whistler/Backcomb ski runs
There is something about the mountains that I just love. The towering rock descending to water. The wild abandon of a river coursing through the woods. I think its the primitive experience of the elements and the outdoors that touch me so. I fell in love with the Sierras my first night at the Truckee airfield so many years ago, and that mountain love is part of my heart and soul.
Normally hiking is high on the agenda, but this trip is short, and I need to adjust to the weather, welcome rain, that is clearing the skies of soot and smoke. I scale back my ambitions and head to Green Lake.
My urban walking poles go almost everywhere with me.
My Urban Poling walking sticks come along. I have really fallen for these things. They keep me upright; provide a bit of balance and support. and help create a brisk tempo for my expedition. I like to walk under any circumstances, but I love walking with these.
The area is full of easy walking paths and campgrounds that line the river. Signs warn of bear-safe camping. And not far away is Green Lake. The area sports a golf course, restaurant and (best of all!) a seaplane base. I have a thing for seaplanes. Part romance (think Pan Am Clipper or the Dornier WW II amphibian , a DO-24ATT, in which I did splash and goes in Tahoe!), part adventure, if it has floats (or is amphibian), count me in! :
Seaplane taking off on Green Lake
The seaplane base for rides of the valley and the glacier
A view of Green Lake from the walking path
From here, it’s a short walk to the entry of Scandinavie Spa:
Normally I’m not a spa person, but this afternoon I need the relaxation of moving from hot to cold and back again; from pool to sauna; from a chair around the fire, to a deep massage. Sitting in the warm sunshine, in the cool mountain air. I leave feeling wonderfully relaxed and rested.
As an aside, my parking overcharge was gracefully and swiftly handled by the municipality. (So kindly Canadian!) Apparently this happens often. So I can rest assured it’s not a personal parking karma thing!
Karma once brought me to the Sierras where I spent eighteen wonderful years. I first moved into a rented condo in Incline Village, and then down to southwest Reno, where my house looked up at the Sierras. I’d watch the sun rise and her light spread from the top of the hills down to their base. I’d watch the wave clouds form, presaging a frontal weather passage. Snow hugged the peaks during winter and created a raging Truckee River for tubing during the rest of the season. Mountain areas are wonderful.
While I love mountain towns, I have to wonder if this phase of my life has passed me by. The excitement of the Whistler Village after a long day on the slopes is no longer mine. The crowd is the age I was, not so long ago. Our elders always talk about how time passes, but it’s not until we experience it ourselves do we realize the brevity of this experience. Part of my heart will always live in this terrain, and part of my soul will always ski bumps and will always fly airplanes. I consider myself lucky to have these pieces of my soul in my heart, now and always.
“There comes a time when the world gets quiet and the only thing left is your own heart. So you’d better learn the sound of it. Otherwise you’ll never understand what it’s saying.” -Sarah Dessen, Just Listen
I had considered writing a long post, about all the different oysters I’ve tried at various places. I’ve conscienciously jotted down all the names and my thoughts on each. But let me simply cut to the chase.
There is always a trade off between price, ambiance and quality. I love a dive bar with great food. I love to save a bit of money, particularly on the road. But there are times when the most upscale, seemingly expensive establishment is the way to go. And it may be no more expensive than many other options.
After nearly a week of smoke and heat, combined with stale cooking odors and no sleep, I desperately needed some self care, and for me that often involves a good meal. I’d scoped out the seafood restaurants in town and had at least a mental list of those that I’d like to try if they worked into my itinerary.
YEW Seafood + Bar was one of them. And it just happened to be located in the Four Seasons, just across the way from the Gallery with the Monet exhibit. And it just happens to be wonderfully air conditioned and a refuge from the smoke outside.
The downstairs lobby is busy with people coming and going. An escalator leads up to the main lobby, and tucked discreetly off to the side is YEW. Their mantra:
Modern. Coastal. Social.
Yew’ll be hooked.
And hooked I am.
Oysters at YEW Seafood + Bar, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
I sat at the bar (what’s new!) and perused the menu. But of course, oysters to start. If this is to be a decadent take-care-of-myself-luncheon, it calls for oysters.
Six perfect oysters with lemon and mignonette. I need this. I feel the soot and the heat that have settled in my throat. But the cool brininess is taking over, one oyster at a time, and life is feeling good again.
It’s beautiful; it’s cool in the restaurant. The bartender is friendly and helpful without being intrusive. The restaurant has the hum of a well run, happy establishment.
It’s not inexpensive, but not overly expensive either. Either way, on this hot, smokey day, I do not care. It gives me respite from that nasty condo where I am supposed to sleep.
After six perfect oysters, leaving is still not on my agenda. I’m hungry and it’s hot and smokey outside.
I order a Salade Nicoise.
Salade Nicose for me is both health food and comfort food. It has many of my favorite elements: greens, eggs, green beans, Mediterranean olives, potatoes, and of course tuna. Perhaps a hint of anchovy. To sing, it needs to have the ingredients drawn together with just the right touch of richness and tang in the dressing. Each item has to shine, yet happily compliment all the others.
This salad can be bold and peasanty, or more elegant and refined.
The Four seasons version of the salad arrives. It is beautifully constructed and arranged. It falls somewhere between the peasant version (which I usually make at home) and Riviera elegance. I dip my fork into the greens.
Perfection.
Salade Nicoise, Four Seasons, Vancouver BC
The egg is perfected boiled, a bit on the soft side; the black olives are pitted and not too salty; and just the smallest bit of perfect white anchovy is interspersed in the greens.
Four large pieces of barely seared tuna sit atop the salad.
I realize I am starved. With each bite, I get another combination of lovely ingredients, prepared and presented perfectly. The quality of the tuna is outstanding It’s so fresh, and fork tender. I consider repeating this meal every day until I leave for Whistler.
The perfect end to the perfect lunch at Yew, Four Seasons, Vancouver
I finish off lunch with an espresso with lemon peel. Just the way I like it. It’s real espresso, done right.
Life is good again.
I love nice surroundings. I am comfortable there. I recall the vast sitting areas in the Madrid Ritz with the glass ceiling high above; the (formerly) shabby chic of the Algonquin; the grounds overlooking the Aegean at Lagonissi, where I spent many a summer.
Then it hits me.
Hard.
I haven’t done this for a while. Since, well, cancer.
This simple meal speaks volumes to me. About my life trajectory, my expectations and my experiences of recent years.
The stock market and real estate market tanked, just as I was starting my first round of treatment. I went from a paper net worth of millions, to not so much. Out of fear and a need for cash for cancer treatment, I pulled money from the market. My investment advisor fired me. I realized later that he didn’t make a commission on anything that sat in cash (and his “firing” me was probably illegal). I should have known that, but at the time I was consumed with a diagnosis of incurable cancer. I faced an uncertain future on so many levels. The antics of my investment advisor who had just lost half of my portfolio were hardly my major concern.
Like most cancer patients, I felt helpless. Helplessness over the uncertainty of the entire situation; helplessness over the outcome of treatment and the after effects of the drugs; helplessness over the mounting costs; helplessness as the tech creeps walked off with my hard earned intellectual property.
Sitting in the Vancouver Four Seasons having this perfect meal, I realize that I deserve many more perfect meals. I deserve a different life trajectory than the one of recent years.
A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions. – Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
The Price of Perfection
I also realized that by “indulging” in this perfect meal, it cost me no more than many not so perfect meals of late. Some of the establishments that I visited pitched dollar oysters, then did a bait and switch. The type of oyster offered for a dollar was hardly a Kumamoto. I often ended up with a plate of very mediocre oysters that cost me nearly as much as this perfect lunch.
So where’s the moral in the story? To paraphrase the famous Cyndi Lauper song:
“And girls they wanna have lunch Oh girls just want to have lunch…”
Preferably at the Four Seasons.
To the Four Seasons Vancouver and Yew, my heart felt thanks on many levels!
Seldom do one’s travels go exactly as planned. I’d anticipated getting outdoors a good deal during my stay in Vancouver, but that was not meant to be. The city was shrouded in heavy smoke from the British Columbia wildfires and experiencing an unusual heat wave.
It’s been HOT, HOT, HOT!
And no place has it been hotter than in the Airbnb that I stayed in.
No air flow to speak of through the condo, and worse yet, no air conditioning.
Seriously?
Apparently in Seattle and Vancouver hot weather is uncommon enough that it is somewhat common not to have any central cooling.
In the future, this is a question I will be asking of any potential places I stay. Because my accommodations, in this very nice condo, have been miserable.
Under normal circumstances, I’d recommend this Airbnb. It’s located in a relatively new building in Chinatown on Keefer street. Great location. It’s within easy walking distance of Gastown and there are two parking garages on the street, one of which is modern and for an urban area, fairly well priced.
The entire Airbnb experience started off well enough. The “owner” (I suspect she was managing this particular unit) was kind enough to meet me a bit early at the property. We chatted. She babbled about the number of properties she has and how the city wanted her to get a business license. She was obviously proud of her growing real estate empire via Airbnb. And capitalizing on what has been the skyrocketing Vancouver real estate market, no doubt. Good for her.
She ran me through the basics of the condo. The keys; how to use the elevator.
I asked about the air conditioning. I am a bit of a utility whore. I can’t stand being too hot.
Suddenly her perfect English disappeared. “Fan, fan” she said, pointing agitatedly to a free standing fan unit in the corner. She turned and practically ran out the door.
I watched as the door closed behind her and the heavy curtains moved in the smokey, hot breeze.
A fan. Really.
I’m pretty adaptable, but the sweat was starting to pour out of me. Rivuets of moisture ran down my face and back as I surveyed the situation.
The sun struggling through the smoky haze was beating its heat into the condo.
The only possible sources of ventilation were two small windows, each in a wall of windows, in the main room and the bedroom. Each window cantilevered out about three inches, barely catching any passing breeze. And there was a door to a small patio.
The patio overlooked the rooftop of a restaurant next door. And on the rooftop were a series of six massive exhaust fans that obviously served the kitchen. I say obviously, because the odor of used cooking oil and Chinese seasonings rose up though the hazy air and into the condo.
Surveying the situation, I guessed that opening the patio door during the late evening into morning, and closing the unit during the mid day heat would offer the best strategy. It would be a tradeoff between sweltering heat and the wafting odors of stale cooking smells.
I got on line to see what my cancellation options were, and what else was available. The cancellation procedures were rather byzantine and definitely not in my favor. The only hotel rooms in town seemed to start at $400-500 dollars per night. Plus parking. Plus taxes. Plus the cost of this Airbnb. Leaving was not really an option.
Ok, let’s see if I can’t manage this. I’ve been through much worse, although at the moment, I can’t recall when.
The first night I simply roasted in the putrid air. There is no relief, just more claustrophobic heat and the wafting odors of dead cooking oil from the building next door. The exhaust fans on the roof below create a palpable hum that reverberates through everything from the air to the mattress.
Here is my review for the Airbnb site on this Vancouver condo:
“The unit has no air conditioning. In the winter with closed windows, this would be irrelevant. It is a very nice unit. But in a smoke filled summer, in a heat wave, this is appalling. The stench of the fried food coming off of the kitchen fans that dominate the roof of the building next door is revolting. The noise is deafening. Even with earphones on, the relentless strumming noise still reverberates through the apartment.
The lack of transparency by the host to note the noise, the odor and note the lack of air conditioning is not ok. It’s particularly not ok for me: I have both asthma and cancer. This is a high heat, noise filled, odor horrific experience I don’t need.
Bottom line, ask a LOT of questions, including surroundings, utilities and refunds under adverse conditions. If you don’t have to open the windows, this is a great place. If you do, be prepared for the gentle squawk of the morning seagulls to give way to the reverberations of massive fan units on the roof next door, followed by stale cooking odors that waft upwards and linger in the condo indefinitely. And should you care for a glass of wine, BYOC (bring your own corkscrew). The kitchen is poorly equipped.”
But finally, 4 nights later, the heat wave is beginning to break and an offshore low is bringing fresh sea air and rain to the area. I have finally slept at least a good part of the night. Well rested (compared to the rest of the sweltering week), I set off to explore Chinatown in a bit more detail.
Vancouver Chinatown
A view in Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s Chinese Garden, Vancouver, Canada
I am a very visual person. I think about sight lines and patterns as I put together a room or an image (the latter is a fledgling skill). When others show similar thought, I notice. And a place of note for exquisite balance and beauty is the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden and the attached public gardens.
The art and design of this property integrates yin and yang; references to other world, human and earthly elements. Much like the Bill Reid Gallery, the elements of design have great depth, complexity and often ambiguity which is one of the things that makes them so interesting.
The integration of the past with the present, with an eye to the future evolution of a garden such as this is a monumental task. All great gardens have a timeless depth to them. I once stayed in a bed and breakfast on Cape Cod with a garden designed by Olmsted. Through the tranquility you could feel the love and care that went into its creation. It was a sacred space.
What makes a sacred garden space? I think it’s a space that suspends us in thought, time and place. Its an ageless, soulful experience, that moves through time, day by day and decade by decade.
Here a just a few images of shifting shadows, beautiful vistas, bridges and paths from from Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s garden:
Bridge in the public garden
A view into the garden from the teahouse
Chinese Garden, Vancouver
This is a magical garden that is well worth a visit. And it’s a great starting point for a walking tour of Vancouver’s Chinatown. From the brochure, allow me to provide a bit of background on this wonderful oasis in the midst of the city:
“The Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden is the first classical garden constructed ouside of China. Its financing and construction represent a unique cooperative effort between Canada, the People’s Republic of China and Vancouver’s Chinese and non-Chinese communities. It is modeled after the highest standards of private classical gardens in the city of Suzhou during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644).
These Suzhou-style gardens represent the apex of Chinese architecture, philosophy, art and calligraphy.
Note the detailed pebble design in the main courtyard
A team of 53 experts from Suzhou spent 13 months constructing the Garden. Working with them were Vancouver architect Joe Wai and the landscape architect Don Vaughan. The materials, tools and techniques used were nearly identical to those used centuries ago. Most of the architectural components were shipped from China; hand fired roof tiles, carved woodwork, lattice windows, limestone rocks and even the courtyard pebbles.
Construction of the Garden began in March 1985. This labouroflove cost $5.3 million (Canadian) and was officially opened in 1986. In June 2004, the $1.9 million new wing, designed by Joe Wai Arcitects and featuring the Hall of One Hundred Rivers, was opened to complement the existing garden spaces.”
On this day, just around the corner, a street fair is taking place. Booths line the streets; vendors inhabit the booths; and people browse.
Street fair in Chinatown, Vancouver
In one booth, a potter brings clay to life:
New Town Bakery in Chinatown, Vancouver
I browse the streets, looking for a Chinese bakery I had passed the other day. Since no cruise through Chinatown would be complete without some Dim Sum, I stopped in New Town Bakery and Restaurant. The shrimp dumplings are simply perfect. I tip my imaginary hat to Eva as I enjoy these delicate morsels. Dim sum is available to eat on the premises or to go. The dining facilities are limited, and many people place large orders to go.
This bakery and dim sum restaurant is not an unknown find I can take credit for. It’s been discovered by others as well:
2012 : CNN Travel | World’s best Chinatowns : “Must-visit restaurant” in Vancouver Chinatown
Be sure you discover it too, when you visit Vancouver.
Vancouver Lighthouse Park
In my continued attempts to find relief from the heat, I plotted trips to places near the water, using my (air conditioned) car. This both kept me out of the smoke ridden air and heat, avoided the parking meister in the parking garage (who found countless ways to pad my parking bill), and at least partially avoided the horrifically hot, odorific condo. It also expanded my explorations.
Urban Poles revolutionize the walking experience.
Naturally I drove through Stanley Park. I wish it had been clear enough to see the surrounding hills and mountains. But even in the smoky murk, it is spectacular. I had planned to get my Urban Poles out and walk the perimeter, but it wasn’t meant to be this trip. (If you decide to try a pair of Urban Poles, use the discount code in the right sidebar just for readers of CancerRoadTrip).
Lions Gate Bridge connects the Stanley Park to North and West Vancouver. I can imagine what the city must look and feel like in good weather. But all I can see is smoke and haze.
Map-Lighthouse Park
Even under such conditions, Canada is so beautiful. Even the currency is gorgeous. I shall come back for a more extensive trip. But this foray into the northern and western suburbs was wonderful.
A view of the lighthouse in Lighthouse Park. Note that the smoke totally obscures the view of Vancouver
While still hot, being near the water and in the densely forested walk down to the lighthouse helped still the heat somewhat. And the smoke was slowly starting to break up as the first suggestions of a low pressure system moved into the area.
The park is situated in a rain forest that receives over 50 inches of rain per year. Numerous trails wind their way through the grounds and on this day, a park ranger warned everyone of a bear that seemed to be wandering about as well. Perhaps he too was seeking some relief from the stagnant weather.
Vancouver Maritime Museum
Another heat avoiding possibility presented itself: The Maritime Museum, across the Burrard Street Bridge. In addition to the museum, the walking paths along the water are worth a trip unto themselves. And it was a good 5 degrees cooler, especially in the shade.
Everywhere I go in Vancouver, I am struck by what a human city this is. It’s clean; spectacular; the people are great, and it’s very walkable. The link to the Canadian outdoors is an integral part of life here, even more than in the Seattle area. Vancouver is truly a world class city with world class amenities. And oysters. But that’s another post!
Northwest Passage, an imaginary inland waterway that appeared on maps for many years
The museum turned out to be an absolute delight. For those of you that read this blog regularly, you know that I collect and am endlessly curious about rare maps and the exploration of North America. One of the most interesting aspects (for me) of this museum was the fact that it was the Canadians that finally managed to navigate a Northwest Passage. This museum is dedicated to that effort.
Originally, the Northwest Passage was a 18th century myth made up about a way to navigate from the east coast to the west, via an inland waterway. This myth persisted for years. But an actual Northwest Passage was finally found by the Canadian ship the St. Roch (pronounced ROCK), a Canadian mounted Police Schooner, made of thick Douglas fir, and lined with Australian eucalyptus. In 1940–1942 she became first vessel to complete a voyage through the Northwest Passage, an arctic route, winding through ice blocked passages and an archipelago of islands, in a west to east direction.
The museum features a fully restored St. Roch, right at waters edge. Which means it’s a spectacular location with cooling ocean breezes. I think I won big time with this expedition.
Viva la Canada!
Viva La Canada!
Granville Island
And of course, a visit to Vancouver had to include Granville Island Market:
Flowers! At the market!
All sorts of vendors are present at the market. This pickle company had an assortment of homemade pickles to die for!
The Pacific Northwest has an amazing assortment of great local food. this stand displays the “usual” assortment of local, fresh produce.
This shop offered all things tea and made the perfect almond milk latte for my morning matcha fix.
The water taxi brings people to the island market.
“Our voyage began in myth time…” says the Haida myth maker.
So starts the tale of The Spirit of Haida Gwaii. But to understand the history of this iconic and transcendent work of art, one must reset one’s contemporary clock to myth time, Pacific Northwest. In this time zone, earth merges with sea, indigenous people with animals and spirits, and timeless voyages of mythic proportions are undertaken.
Haida Gwaii aka Queen Charlotte Islands
Bill Reid’s Haida Heritage
The Haida, (sometimes spelled Hydah), are an indigenous people of the Pacific Northwest Coast from Haida Gwaii in northern British Columbia, Canada. They’ve occupied this archipelago for more than 17,000 years.
Like other people of the Pacific Northwest, their heritage is intimately tied to the land and the sea. Of the 150 islands in this archipelago, the largest are Graham Island in the north and Moresby Island in the south. Vancouver lies well to the southeast across the Hecate Strait. Alaska, where the Haida have resided for over 200 years, lies to the north.
Bill Reid was a renown Canadian historian, writer, master goldsmith, carver, and sculptor, and son of a Haida mother and Scottish father. It was his Haida heritage that would eventually lead him to become one of Canada’s greatest artists.
Bill Reid possessed many skills. His communication skills fostered connection and understanding. His gold and silver smithing created spectacular jewelry with a strong Haida influence. And his sculpting skills would lead to a number of magnificent bronzes reflecting his Haida heritage.
The Spirit of Haida Gwaii
He is perhaps best known for his most public bronze, the Spirit of Haida Gwaii. Two casts were made: The Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Black Canoe resides in the Canadian embassy in Washington DC and The Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Jade Canoe, is in the Vancouver International Airport.
Other pieces of his work can be seen at The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art. This gallery is a national and human treasure, showcasing the pride and exceptional richness of Pacific Northwest history.
Much like the Carriers of the Canoe in the Suquamish Museum in Washington, The Spirit of Haida Gwaii melds a diverse group of mythical creatures that tie land, sea and humanity together in a voyage across time.
In the canoe, the Raven holds the steering oar. The Raven is the trickster of Haida mythology, the bringer of change. She is both powerful and flighty. As a steersman, will her guidance bring stability or (mis)adventure?
Mouse Woman, under Raven’s tail, provides a strong moral compass as she strives for balance between earth and her creatures.
Grizzly bear, stares at Raven. The bear represents freedom and understanding, family and stability. He brings comfort and companionship to the others.
Bear Mother, grizzly’s human wife, gave birth to twin bear cubs creating a human-bear bond. Legend has it that she was the daughter of a prominent tribesman. Her two cubs, Good Bear and Bad Bear are distinguished by the direction in which their ears point.
“Dogfish Woman is another powerful figure in the pantheon of beings of the sea. The dogfish is a small variety of shark that inhabits the waters of Haida Gwaii. Dogfish Woman is a crest belonging to many of the Haida clans, and is related to a story of a woman ancestor who could transform herself into a dogfish. It is in this form that she enters into a whole other realm of experience, the undersea world.”
Other figures such as Eagle, Frog and Wolf also inhabit the boat, each bringing their mythological strengths and weaknesses to the voyage. In the middle is the human Shaman who holds a staff carved with images of Seabear, Raven, and Killer Whale.
The sculpture is 20 ft long, almost 13 ft from the base to the top of the Shaman’s staff, and weighs nearly 11,000 pounds.
Bill Reid’s Haida Gwaii is a bronze of unbelievable complexity, both in execution and in its story. For in the story of this sculpture, lies the story of its people. And, indeed, of indigenous people everywhere. The museum has an extraordinarily moving video that explores the various elements of this bronze on the second floor mezzanine . It is mesmerizing. If you go, do not walk by these films, tucked quietly alongside the beautifully sculpted handrail. Be sure to stop and be drawn in by the richness of this transcendent tale.
The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art viewed from the upstairs balcony
The Bill Reid Gallery of Northwest Coastal Art holds so many wonderful surprises, ranging from jewelry based on Haida Gwaii tradition, to another magnificent bronze-Mythic Messengers- mounted high above the ground floor gallery. (These pictures don’t begin to do justice to the extraordinary artwork in this museum).
Close up of Mythic Messengers
According to Bill Reid:
“this work was inspired by a device often used by Haida artists, an exchange of tongues, whereby power was communicated from one mythic creature to another. At a deeper level, the power of these old forms, born of a mythological past, reinterpreted through new materials and techniques, in a contemporary setting, can still speak to us across time, space, and enormous cultural differences.”
Using these mythic creatures, the bronze tells five stories:
The Bear Family: Mother, Prince and their two cubs
Nanasimget, his wife, and her Killer Whale abductor
Wasgo, the Sea Wolf who feasts on three whales a day, joined by the Frog, his spiritual helper
The Dogfish Woman, a female Shaman with great powers
The Eagle Prince
The piece was originally commissioned by Teleglobe Canada and later donated to the museum.
Bill Reid was equally adept in numerous mediums. Here is a sampling of his work from the museum:
Bill Reid captured mythic images in gold jewelry.
Haida Necklace. The “rope” is made of ivory.
Bil Reid was also a talented sculptor.
A paper cache mural of Dogfish
This gallery is a showcase of the exceptional richness of Pacific Northwest history through Bill Reids eyes and talents. If you only go to one museum in Vancouver, I highly recommend this one, for its exploration of the past, the incredible quality of Bill Reid’s works and contributions, and just for fun. It is a stunning gallery to visit and to share.
On Bill Reid:
On the collected works:
The Vancouver Art Gallery: Impressionist Exhibit
Vancouver Art Gallery
Impressionists weren’t shrouded in myth. At least not when they started out. If anything these visionary renegades were aggressively shunned by the traditional art world. But their vision would provide to be a pivot point for the history of art, bridging from the traditional portrait painters to the modernity of contemporary art.
The Monet exhibit at the Vancouver Museum of Art includes Monet’s iconic painting that lent the name Impressionist to the painter’s movement. While some of Monet’s more familiar art is present, a great deal of darker paintings from his latter days at Giverny, when his eyesight was failing him, are also part of the collection. The exhibit is well worth seeing, but it falls short of the Impressionist show that toured San Fransicso some years back and little can compare with his Paris displays.
One of the most remarkable paintings in this touring collection is the painting that inadvertently provided the name of the Impressionist movement: Impression, Sunrise.
Impression, Sunrise by Monet
This painting was first shown at the Exhibition of the Impressionists in April 1874. It depicts the port of Le Havre.
The entire collection is accompanied by Stephen Shore’s photographic collection that follows the restoration of Giverny. This set of photographs alone is fascinating, as it chronicles the loving restoration of Monet’s famous house and gardens. All in all, a great exhibit.
Footnote: My original plan in Vancouver was to focus on the amazing outdoor aspect of this Pacific northwest city. But wildfires in British Columbia, plus a heat wave, created very bad air quality, which necessitated a change in my focus. That plus an lodging misadventure (story to come!). The vagaries of travel! Stay tuned for more on my #Vancouver adventure.
I had always intended to go to Vancouver with Eva.
Eva was born in Czechoslovakia and emigrated to Canada. She had lived in Richmond, just south of Vancouver, before moving in next door to me in Connecticut, and she was eager to show me her adopted “hometown”. But the opportunity never quite came together. Between moves, divorces and then sadly, her death, we never got to make that trip together.
Eva died of liver failure. I suspect it was at least partly due to an inordinate fondness for alcohol. But she was a big girl, with big appetites, and that included quantity, as well as sometimes quality. I wish I could find that picture of the two of us. Me in my preppy tweed, Burberry coat and boots. Eva in stretch lycra, big hair and leather and always wearing her big, wonderful smile.
You couldn’t juxtapose two more different women, yet that was a key part of the friendship. She wanted whatever was bright and hot and cool. She could own a handbag for a week and be done with it. I, on the other hand, would carefully choose my classic Coach bag and keep it forever. She adored touristy stuff and chachkies. I didn’t care for either. She was extremely gregarious; I was more reserved.
From New Haven to Newport
Eva insisted on a day trip to Newport, RI to see the mansions. Yawn. I had zero interest. But I got dragged along, as driver and friend.
Eva’s enthusiasm and appetites were always engaging, and Newport suited her to a tee. The more gold, the better! The more sordid the history, the more involved she got. The gaudier the building, the more it pleased Eva.
The truth is, I had a blast. From the Renaissance excess of The Breakers, to the bobbing boats in the harbor, it was a great day. Part of it was the company. Part of it was a simple realization on my part:
Touristy things can be a bunch of fun
Seattle and Mt. Rainer from the Space Needle
Preferably followed by a good lunch to ease the madness of crowds. A recent visit to the Space Needle is a case in point. The view was magnificent, and Mount Ranier was visible in the background. But the elevator opened to the smell of stale popcorn with synthetic butter. And the unrelenting, senseless loudness of people in crowds never ceases to amaze me.
Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt. -Abraham Lincoln
Sculptural orbs line the walkway under the Space Needle
Chihuly Outdoor Gardens
The grounds surrounding the Space Needle were beautiful and the integration of blown glass forms into the outdoor gardens was my favorite part of the Chihuly Garden and Glass exhibit.
For me, the most interesting aspect of this monument from the 1962 World’s Fair was the historic story board that lines the ramp leading up to the glass enclosed elevator. (Note: The elevator is touristy fun. The story board makes the long wait touristy fun too.) As is the history of the fair:
The theme of the fair was modern science and space exploration. The U.S. government was eager to display it’s prowess in these areas and provided $9 million towards funding the event which was held April 21 through October 21, 1962. It drew almost 10 million visitors, including me and my family. And Elvis Presley, who was shooting a movie in the area (I missed Elvis). The fair was opened to 538 ringing bells, 2000 balloons, and 10 Air Force F-102’s overhead. From the City of Seattle Archives here is an overview of the fair’s offerings.
The Federal Science Pavilion, “a virtual cathedral of science”
The fair brought back vague, childhood memories. I recalled some of the buildings; I loved the fact that the monorail was still in use. But overall, I was grateful that my morning would soon be afternoon at the nearby Queen Anne location for Taylor’s Seafood.
Perhaps I’m still a bit of a tourist curmudgeon. Eva wouldn’t have let me get away with that attitude.
The last time I saw Eva was around 1989/90 when I stayed with her in southern California. I visited as I tried to sort out my ex-husband’s infidelities and lies. I wasn’t very good company as I obsessed about events over which I had no control. But at least I was aware of my ranting, and I left so as not to wear out my welcome. This bit of consideration on my part would be one of the key events that led to my learning to fly. Little did I know how life would unfold, or that I would never see Eva again.
So the intent of this trip to Vancouver is partly in remembrance; partly, to fulfill a promise; and, as always, partly for some adventure.
And I shall do some very touristy things.
But I had counted on Eva to show me around. We were supposed to go to the market on Granville Island. We were supposed to do dim sum. This trip I’m solo. Can one even do dim sum alone?
The purpose of dim sum is to visit and browse and explore the many little tastes of the perfect little morsels of food offered during the experience. Dim sum has it’s roots in the Silk Road, where travelers were served small bite sized foots along with tea. For many Chinese, it is a family brunch tradition, although it’s morphed to be served as snacks in China, or even as dinner in some restaurants. Eva and I would have had a blast, exploring the menu and finding our favorites.
Granville Market, Vancouver
Granville Market is another landmark that Eva and I had planned to visit. She was learning to cook, so each food offered new possibilities for her boundless enthusiasm.
I remember when she spilled an entire bottle of soy sauce on a very white wall to wall carpet in her home. Aided by a bit of wine, the recipe got away from her, and portions of the carpet were now a mottled, speckled, ugly brown mess. She was desperate to hide the spot from her somewhat older, domineering German husband.
As I recall, some combination of seltzer/salt and or baking soda was finally fairly effective at soaking up the stain. But soy sauce was now on the to-be-avoided list of ingredients lest the wine get away with the recipe. And when Eva started venturing into raw fish dishes, I stepped in and became the gravlax expert for that summer, hopefully tactfully managing the possibility of food poisoning running amuck through the neighborhood.
Those days were such fun. We were all young and happy and settled (or so I thought); so sure of our paths in life. I cannot believe some of the events that transpired after those years. But memories of my big haired, lycra wearing friend have always been with me, and on this next foray to Vancouver, Eva lives on.
“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” –Thomas Campbell
So, dim sum and Granville Market. Then we shall see what tourist fun Vancouver comes up with. Because I shall do some very touristy things.
Inspiration, joy & discovery through travel. Oh, did I mention with supposedly incurable cancer?
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CancerRoadTrip is about making lemonade out of lemons.
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