Tom Chamberlain

I will start off by saying that traveling alone to a big city offers me the opportunity really think about my surroundings, and to see what’s going on around me without distraction. So with that, if you go to Vancouver, bring a friend. It will be more fun.
I’m heading to Vancouver, British Columbia. The train to Seattle leaves at 8:30am and I’m running late. Portland is cold and I am really excited to get out of town. Technically I’m already out of town, but I’m excited get to Vancouver to see what all of the hype is about. I had to transfer to a connector bus to Vancouver that was an hour late on a cold day. I waited at the station with about thirty other people.
Before I left home, I made an exhaustive search for affordable accommodations which can be a challenge in such a metropolitan city, but I found an acceptable and affordable hotel on the edge of downtown, a somewhat shady neighborhood surrounded by a quiet family neighborhood, Chinatown, and Gastown. This hotel met my needs perfectly; it was really central and very affordable.
We landed in Vancouver it was chilly and a little rainy and it took me only a few minutes to realize I was not in Boulder anymore. The streets were littered with scraps of common human refuse and this was not unusual for me to experience, except that I live in a bubble where the streets are clean and free of this clutter (with exception of the Hill that is). I quickly convert city mode in my head and away I go. With Google Maps in hand I walk the two point one two miles to my hotel, through Chinatown I go, the smells of food filled the air. Just moments prior I had no need for food, I suddenly find myself craving fried pork and lo mein. I muddled my way through the drizzle of this typical Vancouver December and onto Hastings. I go right and whoa Nelly, what have I got myself into?! Before I get to the hotel, I think to myself, “oh this is what $40 American per night gets me, a stay in a vagrant’s flophouse.” Walking through a river of sidewalk residents, I make it to my hotel unscathed, where miraculously there was no loitering. I am suddenly at ease when I am greeted by the man at the desk of Middle Eastern origin. He was obviously an educated man with a confidence and honesty about him that put me at ease. I instantly felt he ran a tight ship. However the neighborhood was still a little disconcerting when it came to carrying camera gear of any value.
I went to my room on the fifth floor taking a ride in an old Turnbull elevator which was much more quiet and comfortable than I would have expected. I put my bags down in my room which is comfortable and while not a room near as nice as the Hayes Valley Inn in San Francisco it was also one third the price.
I grabbed a local map and some brochures of the local attractions and had a short cram session. Out the door and I went right. I headed straight for the bright lights of the big city. Any moth would have been proud of my perseverance as I head through waves of panhandlers, junkies, and sex workers that occupied the sidewalks. It was quite easy to figure out my way around the city. It is the basic grid in the center and suburban sprawl all around. No different than any other North American city in that respect.
The first think in order was to find a bank with an ATM, which was completed with relative ease. The first thing I saw after I walked out of the bank was a very high end cigar shop. I walked in a little wet and unshaven, but by no means did I resemble a street person, the shop keeper in his classically tailored business suit had a puzzled look on his face when I entered his shop. I simply said to him, “I am in the market for an H. Upmann No. 2, he smiled and gladly sold me the beautifully handmade 52×6 Cuban cigar. I sparked that bad boy up and continued to walk around the city without a care in the world. I spent the next four hours walking in the drizzle to see the city at night.
I knew the waterfront was nearby but the darkness surrounded Vancouver, and I was really taken back by the city lights and the architecture. At this point I still have not eaten and was smoking a very strong cigar and if I had any respect for my stomach I would need some food. Fortunately for me I was on the west end of China town and I walked into a little takeout place, I can’t tell you the name because my Chinese is a little rusty these days. I grabbed a takeout cup of fat udon-esque noodles and broccoli with a spicy red sauce and a pair of chopsticks and off I go again.
I head back into the shopping/downtown district with my noodles and spark up the cigar once again off to admire the city and all of the pretty people. With Google maps I manage to hunt down an alternative route back to the hotel, and stumble upon the Gastown District. It’s not without its charm, but I am getting tired and don’t really have time to look to closely.
I make it back to my hotel in one piece and just adjacent to the hotel is Pat’s, an interesting pub that has a house lager that I must say is pretty damn good. So, after a burger, some hockey on tv and a couple of Pat’s Lagers I head back into the hotel lobby where I check my email on the WiFi and am struck by the site of a very well dressed Japanese Business man and what I can wholeheartedly assume is a “lady of the evening” heading into the elevator. Her tiny black skirt and four inch knee high black leather boots were well suited for the weather conditions outside.
A new day begins, I’m up at the crack of 7am and it is still dark. It’s not raining, but it is chilly, foggy and overcast. My first stop is the Gastown District. On the pavement by 7:45 it was a nice morning, a little wet, but not to bad. I walk around the corner to Cordova St. and the crackheads are still wandering the streets staring at the sidewalks making sure no one dropped a crack-rock, and the enormous number of crows in the trees. Screaming as I walked past, all I see is the silhouettes of these birds in the bare trees looking down onto the ground for food. I could hear them everywhere I went. I actually quite enjoy the sounds of the large birds, and there were no shortage of them. Today is not so thrilling, I did manage to visit a few cool record stores and small private galleries. The interesting artwork was in these smaller shops on Cordova as opposed to the tourist galleries on Water Street. The stuff on Water was beautiful, but the other smaller, albeit hipper galleries on the side streets in Gastown offered more thought provoking artwork.
The following days were much the same. The weather was better on Thursday and offered much better views of the mountains to the north, making photographing the city a little more forgiving.
Vancouver is a large city in North America sharing the same traits of its brethren, Chicago, New York, Boston, Toronto, San Francisco, Seattle. Vancouver offers access to art, theater, music, cultural diversity, science, research, business, food, and all the other trappings of modern life in a big city. These cities also have crime, poverty, homeless, drug use and every other social problem you could think of.
I really enjoyed the diversity of Vancouver, but there are still things that bother me about the city. The Anti-American sentiment that I overheard was a natural and perhaps understandable trait of the locals. There was nothing directed towards me, but being in several busy places I overheard several conversations that left me with a bad feeling of the locals. My visits to Victoria BC or Toronto several years ago never left me with a feeling of disdain for Americans. This could be a newer phenomenon. In a conversation with a Canadian woman on the train back from Vancouver, she vented her frustration with her fellow B.C. residents. Her husband is American and he encounters some of those issues, even after living in B.C. for the past 25 years. Americans should not be so surprised with this, we have all heard stories of the “bad American abroad”.

I have seen junkies on the streets before, but I think I have become soft living in Boulder for 11 years. Last night while waiting for a bus to go downtown, there were two men in waiting under the bus shelter as well. Doubtful they were waiting for a bus, because one of the men had a beautiful American Pitbull with him and the other was freebasing crack cocaine. My bus arrived moments later. I went downtown and grabbed a few pints at a pub in Gastown. Talked hockey with some Australians and headed back toward the hotel. While walking up Dunlevy toward Hastings I see a limousine stop and several tall, attractive, and scantily dressed women get out of the car and I don’t think anything of it, other than it seemed like an odd place to get out of a limousine. I grab a final beer and some Buffalo wings at Pat’s and then retire for the evening.
My final morning was very rainy and still worth another walk by the waterfront with camera in tow. On the way back to the hotel I walked past a girl, she was tall, pretty, but obviously was homeless and she was leaning against a wall perhaps to stand out of the rain a bit. We made eye contact and she said something to me in soft tone and I stopped and asked her to repeat herself. She said to me softly “are you looking for company?” I could see she was exhausted from the look in her eyes. It absolutely broke my heart to see this young girl in such a bad place. There was almost a spark of life left in her, I hope she can get out of that situation. Usually, I would not have given that girl a second thought. It’s nice to know that I am still alive.