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August 10, 2012: Vancouver Proper

What are the odds of this? We are all sick. I have a common cold. So does my mother. And Eleanor has an uncommon cold. She’s been plugged up since spring, when she had her house insulated. I think the problem is that the air in her house is being recirculated. It’s just like a plane – there’s this thing sucking in the air, and this other thing sucking out the air. So she keeps getting re-infected.

Vancouver is a veritable melting pot, with many people of differing ages and nationalities speaking differing languages. Great people watching. We all went for a morning walk and gawked at all the people. And other tourists gawked at us.




In the morning, on the bus, I asked the guy next to me what he thought about something we four had been talking about – whether or not Prince Harry was Prince Charles’s son. He thought not. On and on this conversation went, with me getting his life history – I learned that a few years back, he’d been in a construction accident, and had several pins and plates put in his leg. I could not tell if he was slightly deranged or not. City travel, it breeds suspicion. But I genuinely liked the guy.

In the afternoon El, Bob, and I went to Stanley Park and did a five mile walk along the waterfront. We’d planned on checking out the Vancouver Aquarium, but it was really expensive. I was expecting to find something like the one in Chicago – it’s in a brick building, off the beaten path. And it has many small tanks of fish. The Vancouver Aquarium is in the center of the park – easily accessible. And it has many large fish. So, scratch that idea.

Many, many, many bicyclists in this town. We were briefly on the bike path, to which Eleanor remarked “Here we have too much of a good thing!” Never thought I’d feel similar sentiments. Not really – but it was surprising to see so many flying past.

Many amazing sights – one of the most interesting was that of a tree atop a condominium. I stood for a long time, looking up at it, and speculating. How did they get this tree up there? And how do they water it? And aren’t the people who live adjacent to this tree concerned that the wind might blow it into their living room? You gotta wonder . . . .