Chapter 1: Everything is new and clunky!
So e hoa mā, another chance to write about some adventures! Thanks for reading. Finding my feet in Vancouver has been fun, with a few inevitable hiccups — as Dad reminded me before I left, nothing is unsolvable. I’m still learning my loonies from my toonies but am getting there. I’ll pop the photos at the end this time for ease of editing on my little old phone. And please forgive any strange typos/format! Enjoy! 😎☀️🏔️
Friday 28 April
Dad dropped me off at the airport, where many good adventures begin, and helped me haul my bike into the oversized luggage drop-off. Dad can attest to the fact I was quite nervous, but those nerves were appeased by Wellington putting on one of its golden sunset shows, dropping a little ray of sunshine in my pocket to take over to the other side of the Pacific.
The journey across the ocean to Canada was seamless, if not a bit tight between flights. On the main flight I sat in seat 45E, the most smack-bang-in-the-middle of them all. The novelty of being on a long-haul flight again was short-lived. It got a little claustrophobic, but my neighbours were very considerate and luckily I didn’t have to go to the toilet much (always an awkward manoeuvre when your seat mates are asleep). The flight whizzed by thanks to a sort-of unbroken sleep and three films. I woke up to the smell of vegan pea patties and a rhubarb muffin for breakfast, and soon after our flight prepared to land.
From what I could glimpse from one of the plane windows, landing in Vancouver reminded me a bit of landing in Christchurch (hear me out!) not necessarily because of the scale of the city itself, but the crown of mountain ranges surrounding the place were like kā tiritiri-o-te-moana, the southern alps.
One of the most nerve-wracking things on this trip for me is flying with my bike, Sirocco. The bike is quite a commitment to travel with, but a key component of cycle touring (if you hadn’t already made that observation). It filled me with joy to see the long chunky box awaiting me at the baggage carousel, with Sirocco dismembered and bubble wrapped inside. I found a quiet spot to reassemble them, thanks to the help of my Canadian friends who’d just arrived home from 3 months of cycling in Aotearoa. I inconspicuously left the bike box outside the airport, next to another one.
At this point I was incredibly thirsty and hungry, having had no time to replenish the stores and being highly anxious about putting Sirocco back in one piece. But I thought it wouldn’t be long before I got to my accommodation, so the bike took priority. According to Google Maps, the hostel was a 52-minute cycle from the airport. No sweat. Instilled with the over-confidence of someone who hadn’t eaten or drunk enough, I rolled out the exit of the airport, tramping pack packed securely on the back. Stick to the right, I repeated to myself.
Despite following the bike lane signs (it’s always easier to blame others isn’t it haha) I soon ended up in a part of town that was a little off-route. According to google maps (sentences starting with this never end up well) I had missed a turn off onto one of the many bridges into the city centre. After cycling around in circles for half an hour in the heat, almost giving up, and then asking a stranger for directions, I found a way over the bridge. Not the one I’d planned for, but a bridge nonetheless.
Eventually, I recognised the turnoff from the google maps street view I’d planned earlier. Back on track! The rest of the ride into town was an old railway line that took cyclists and walkers through leafy suburbs filled with mini mansions. At last I reached the hostel, 4 hours after landing. Although stressful, I’m proud of not giving up on cycling from the airport.
My first impressions of the city: people are friendly and forthcoming, and there’s a lot going on! Two cyclists stopped to offer help/ask where I was bumbling off to en route to the hostel. Lots of highrise glass apartments. Loving the cycle lanes, too. The smell of weed is ubiquitous. I can’t wait to explore the beaches and Stanley Park. Despite the relaxed surrounds, I’m noticing my catastrophising thoughts are strong. I’ve got to sit with my state of naïvety, clunkiness and anxiety. But if the first 12 hours are anything to go by, there will be people willing to help at every corner. As Dad wisely told me before leaving, nothing is unsolvable. There will always be a way.
It’s fun to be in awe of the big wide world again.
Saturday 29 April
The free breakfast at the hostel consists of voluptuous bagels, porridge with maple syrup and coffee.
This morning I meandered to the waterfront to make the most of the gorgeous sun and gaped at the mountain panorama stretched out ahead. The whole of Vancouver’s waterfront is connected up by this amazing network of cycle/pedestrian paths. You could pretty much cycle/roller skate/walk the circumference of Vancouver city on these paths, it’s quite incredible. People were out in force enjoying the sunshine.
After browsing a few inner city streets, I took Sirocco out for a circumnavigation along the sea wall in Stanley Park, along with about a thousand others who had the same idea. This was the first sunny weekend all year apparently, so it makes sense why crowds the size of the whole population of Wellington were flocking to the park and surrounding beaches. As the Canadians would say, the beaches were ‘hoppin’’. The view from the northern end of Stanley Park was quite something, with views out to the snowy peaks of Vancouver Island. The looked like the Kaikoura Ranges from Wellington’s south coast.
A few days before I left, my dad’s cousin put me in touch with his second cousins who live in Canada. We made contact and so this afternoon, I met up with my second cousins (3 times removed) and their families! It was awesome to meet relatives who I hadn’t known existed until a week ago, but whose great great grandparents we share. We ate dinner on the deck of Becky’s (one of my second cousin 3x removed’s) paddle club overlooking the mountains that were soaking in the glorious sun. It was a lovely evening of connecting. We exchanged photos and stories. I‘m pleased to say I’ll now be attending the family reunion in Vancouver in July, unofficially representing the NZ branch of the Stewarts!
Sunday 30 April
Yesterday I scoped out a nearby park with a dog exercise area, as it’s important to get one’s daily dose of dog. As I stood there with Sirocco (but really spying on the dogs), a woman approached and commented, ‘Nice day for a bike ride!’ She must have sensed something — maybe it was the shorts-and-woollen-sock combo in 10 degree weather — because she asked where I was from. Turns out she was born in Dunedin and is thinking of moving back. That wasn’t the last of the Kiwi-spotting: later I walked past someone with a tote bag from the Marlborough Sounds, and overheard a few accents from home. I guess it’s only natural to search for home when you’re missing it a bit. We’re always trying to find ways of connecting, aren’t we.
Back to the dogs for a second: There are so many dogs here. Every type under the sun from big Alaskan malamute-types to French bulldogs and, best of all, mutts. My favourite dog encounter so far has been with a three-legged mix called Dorkus. I know that’s their exact name because they were wearing a cross-stitched collar with their name on it.
Today I visited Granville Island, an old industrial area that’s been converted into a market and studios. It was cool, but quite touristy. There were a few neat book shops with so many books I would have bought, had it not been for the severe lack of space on my bike for bulky items. I was tempted to catch an Aquabus over the river — these sweet little rainbow boats that chug across the water, but I still had a few things to do before heading back that way.
After the market I walked to the outdoor shop of all outdoor shops: the Mountain Equipment Company store. To give you a sense of its size, there is a bouldering wall on the second story. I may have spent a considerable amount of money in there, but most importantly I bought bear spray, which I hope I’ll never have to use.
It was much crispier today and it rained a bit, but that helped to not pull me into a false sense of security with the sunshine. There a still a few things to organise before heading up the Sunshine Coast with Sirocco, but it’s all coming together. I’m glad about having a few days to find my feet in Vancouver, to let the jet lag wear off and to get used to how things work around here.
Monday 1 May
Today’s mission was to explore the (massive) UBC campus, pick up the last few bits and pieces for the bike trip and finalise my route for the next 10 days. The university campus, a suburb in itself, lies at the end of a peninsula. The streets were pretty empty en route, probably because it’s end of term time and Monday morning. I took a quick detour to Wreck Beach, Vancouver’s nudist beach. No nudists out today, but wonderful views of the island and the Sunshine Coast that I’ll be heading up tomorrow.
Cycling down a quiet street on the campus, I heard someone shout ‘Alex!’ Surely it couldn’t have been me. I know all of 7 people in this city. But I looked back and it was Rob, the partner of my relative Becky who I’d met two days before! He works there, to be fair, but uncanny nevertheless.
North American campuses are quite something. UBC is beautiful and leafy, but my brief romanticising about going to grad school there was quickly checked when I saw a group of people walking with placards reading ‘GRAD STUDENTS IN POVERTY’. A protest was happening about the measly wages of early career researchers, and it hit home a little. Neoliberal universities exist everywhere, I guess.
On the way back I stopped off at the Naam, Vancouver’s oldest vegetarian cafe, and had a huge bowl of vegetables and peanutty tofu and rice among other delights. After living off bagels for a few days, I felt alive afterwards, it was splendid. A quick grocery shop, trip to the hardware store, cycle into the city. I called Shannon to plan our upcoming trip to Glacier National Park in Montana in a few weeks (!) while sitting in my new fave park, the one with lots of dogs.
Vancouver is nothing if not diverse. This evening I was transported around the world by walking through Chinatown, and then Gastown, an intercontinental trip from the heart of Asia to Victoria England. The main purpose of my evening wander to those neighbourhoods was to get an ice cream sandwich from a vegan place I’d eyed up. I got raspbwrrry cheesecake and boy was that the most hearty sandwich I’d ever eaten. The sky glowed pink as I walked back to the hostel. mg heart broke to walk past East Hastings, a street where a lot of people doing it really rough live. The contrast between the big houses and people experiencing homelessness is striking here.
Tomorrow begins the actual cycling, the first of four stages on my North American cycle trip. I’m naturally nervous, but ready to soak in the beauty and wildlife of this area. Today I learnt that humans and grizzly bears share 80% of the same DNA so I’ll keep that in mind if we ever encounter each other. I’ll head up Sunshine Coast over the next few days, then hop over to the middle of Vancouver Island. A week rolling down the southern part and then hopping on a ferry to Seattle! One day at a time though.
PS - I can’t promise all blog posts will give a day-by-day breakdown (maybe that’s a good thing if these are boring haha) but more like an overview of the past little while. We’ll see! Tune in next time e hoa mā 📻
