to Vancouver. As Nixon is said to have said on leaving the Rose Garden one last time, “I won’t say goodbye, but instead will say, au revoir!”
Indeed, this deeply segregated, staid, and conservative city by the sea has offered much and has more still of interest. Its urban beauty is unparalled, its charms deep.
Yesterday, renting bikes, it was a two hour jaunt along the seawall in spectacular Stanley Park. Then a return to Legendary Noodles for thin noodles with spicy chicken. Following that, off to Rodney’s for a dozen raw oysters, slurped by my companion, while I made due with perfect fried fish on a roll and a cold one.
After a nap, winded from the mini-triathalon (three miles of running, eight miles of biking, and four miles of walking), it was time to cross the bridge to Kinsilato.
Drinks with the editor and publisher of Vancouver magazine @ West–Victoria gin is as smooth as Plymouth. The plan had been to eat at Vij’s, but our group grew to eight, which meant a two hour wait at Vij’s, so we cabbed back over the bridge for dinner at Blue Water: raw tuna, unagi, etc. and good, local Riesling.
Of the segregation noted: One sees folks from Asia and of European stock, no blacks, and it’s a peas don’t touch the carrots culture, prissy.
Of note, too, is the “100 mile” menus: Nothing served outside of 100 miles. What a fine concept! More on that later.