It feels really weird to be a tourist.
We took a train up from Portland, Oregon to Vancouver, British Columbia. It took a little more than nine hours. The people behind us smelled like sweaty socks.
We were visiting my friend Keiko, whom I’ve known since I lived in Los Angeles. We worked together at a movie studio. We were also roommates. She was astounded at how much deodorant I used. Like, four or five swipes of deodorant. Which to me, seems like a normal and reasonable amount of deodorant for a normal human in southern California. Evidently, she didn’t use as much as me. She used to call me “Stinky.”
Keiko has an adorable apartment, and she is an amazing cook, and visiting her sort of made me wish we were still roommates. Besides that she called me Stinky.
Vancouver is gorgeous. And Canadians are so super nice. I mean, Portlanders are nice. But Canadians are SO SUPER NICE. Like, I sort of felt like I should have been giving out hugs to random strangers.
Dave and I walked around the city, taking photos of alleys, and did super dorky touristy things.
The giant penis shaped shadow in this photo is from the building we were viewing from.
Vancouver is not much larger than Portland, population-wise. But somehow, it seems so much larger.
We were tickled that we got some sun on our first day, despite the forecast calling for rain. It did rain all day on our second day, but that is what we were expecting. It gave us an excuse to come back in the summer.
And poutine! It was everywhere!
Dave is ready to move to Canada.