Vancouver!

I love the Pacific Northwest. However it’s been a while since I’ve had the privilege of visiting the Canadian portion of my great region. This past Labor Day weekend Tim and I hopped on the train and made our way up to one of the most beautiful–and delicious–cities in the world.

After getting over the initial sticker shock (our poor flaccid American dollars sure aren’t what they used to be) we toured and ate our way through the city.

The first night we met up with our friends Benson and Kel (who serendipitously not only happened to be in Vancouver at the same time we were but also were staying in the same hotel) to have dinner at the rather popular and packed  Bao Bei Chinese Brasserie in Vancouver’s China Town district.  While we were waiting for the boys I was a bit peckish so I decided to order the somewhat vague menu item “crunchy fish”.  Apparently the menu wasn’t all that vague because that is exactly what was delivered to our table.  Benson and Kel finally arrived and after a lovely dinner (everything tasted great) we headed out the door straight into China Town’s Saturday night market.  This experience was somewhat reminiscent of London’s Portobello road but the actual products had some uncanny resemblance to the goods available in Los Angeles’s fashion district markets.  After deciding that we were no tin need of any ground ginseng, battery operated barking dogs or flashing L.E.D. pins we headed out of the market to our next destination–dessert.

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We literally stumbled upon Judas Goat Taberna which is located in the historically rather sinister Blood Alley.  After a bottle of lovely Tempranillo, fig and goat cheeses, an amazing cherry goat cheesecake and some luscious truffles we waddled out the door, back to our hotel and called it a night.

On Sunday, after a gluttonous (especially considering our previous nights consumption) brunch at Medina Cafe, Tim and I took a monster stroll around the entire downtown peninsula to see as many sculptures from the Biennale as possible.  It was a lovely morning and although I ended up wishing that I had brought along some hiking shoes it did wonders for ameliorating my guilt about my calorie consumption.

Sunday night we met up with Benson and Kel again at Salt and chatted about our collective adventures throughout the day.  Salt is good–but the service is ridiculously slow.  We essentially had a bottle of wine, and salami and cheese and it took almost 90 minutes before our food was delivered.  Despite the agony of the relatively poor service, it was really fun to imagine all of the dramatic fits we could have as we stormed out.  Overall it was another great evening.

On Monday, very luckily, Tim and I caught the last day of The Modern Woman exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery. The exhibit was all about drawings of women by some very famous painter.  In particular I was fascinated with some pieces by Toulouse-Lautrec and Renoir.  The exhibited drawings were much different from any of the other works by these artists that I have seen.  I also enjoyed In Dialogue with Carr, a very interesting, albeit somewhat quirky, exhibit that combines the work of Emily Carr with contemporary British Columbian artists.

Technically our weekend was a belated birthday present for Tim but I felt a little guilty because I felt like the weekend was really a gift for me as well.  Overall it was great fun squeezing the last little bit of fun out of a delicious summer.

Saying Goodbye

La Isla Bonita

This has been a wonderful trip for me–and I’m having a hard time saying goodbye to Puerto Vallarta–our La Isla Bonita.  This trip has been good for me all the way down to my bones.  As I lay in bed and listen to the parrots chatter outside my window I’m wondering why we don’t always live like this?  In just a few hours I will get on a plane for home.  I know that as my tan fades my stress level will gradually increase, my allergies will return, and I will long for lazy days at the pool accompanied by my friends ice-cold water and frosty margarita.

My reluctance to return to my life comes from the fear of exhaustion.  Rarely have I needed a holiday more than this one.  While I know that my life will be much easier than it has been in the past couple of years I still have a “body memory” of exhaustion.  Just the “idea” of going home has made my muscles tense a bit.  So I’ve been engaging in a little bit of self talk to assure myself that I’ll be just fine –even though I feel like a rather ridiculous version of Stuart Smalley (I much prefer Al Franken as a senator).

I was having quite a bit of success with my little self-indulgent activity until a beautiful yellow and scarlet bird decided to perch just outside my window. It took a little drink from the pool, then preened it’s amazing feathers.  Finally it looked at me and squawked out a rather amusing sound that I interpreted as “oh, hello.”

I will miss it here.

Still, there is a LOT to look forward to upon returning home.  I’m committed to having a beautiful garden this year.  I’m also really looking forward to continuing our Sunday Soups and perhaps most of all I’m looking forward to being able to enjoy this spring and summer without having to work almost every weekend; and so in a few minutes I will get out of bed, hobble into the kitchen for some coffee, and begin packing to go home.

So it’s thanks and goodbye Puerto Vallarta.  I hope to see you again soon.

Pelican Persistence

Brown Pelicans

In addition to crows I also love Pelicans! One of the main reasons that I probably love pelicans so much is that it is almost a guarantee that if I am hanging out with the pelicans then I am someplace warm. These goofy birds seem to be ubiquitous to the westcoast of North America and I’ll have to ask my sister when she arrives but I’m pretty sure that the Brown Pelicans here are the same ones that live near her on along the central coast of California.

I’m usually quite interested in how humans attach meaning and symbolism to animal traits and the pelican is no exception.  The pelican stores food in it’s gullet which it regurgitates for it’s young.  As it engages in this regurgitation process, it rubs its long beak against its breast.  It appeared to the somewhat unobservant clergy of the middle-ages as if the pelican was piercing its own breast, and feeding its blood to its young.  Thus it became a primary symbol for the romanticization and ritualization of hematophagia.

Despite a misinformed reputation — fueled in part by an early Christian obsession with blood sacrifice — I love this bird.  I love how they seem to congregate together.  I love how goofy they look as they waddle around on the beach.  I love how fearless they seem to be and how close they will let you get to them.  I love how they awkwardly contort their necks as they swallow their catch.  I love how loving they seem to be to their children (the old codgers did get that part right) but most of all I love how persistent these birds are.  Today Tim, Jimmie and Chuck humored me by spending a few minutes to watch the Pelicans dive again and again into the surf in their quest to catch their meal.  I could have stayed all day.  It is amazing how they soar and hover and once they finally find the right fish they just dive bomb right into the water with all their might.  I am reminded that this is a trait I need to foster in myself.  Wait a bit… be observant… find what I want… and then go for it!