Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Vancouver, first impressions
It is midsummer hot. Too hot. Still.
Any night is a good night to get gelato, but tonight especially.
So we walk from Marcia and Ted's place to a great gelateria a few blocks away. A good chance to see the neighborhood. It's on the edge of a funkier part of town. Not industrial, but near. Not run down, but not tony. Like much of Vancouver, it's a mix of cultures. The big Chinese apartments across the street. Old hippies wearing love beads and Tevas walk by. Thirty somethings with toddlers in strollers. Large Indian (from India) families, the men and boys with their hair twisted up in fabric. All headed to the Italian gelateria. On the way back, we walk down shady tree lined streets with wooden cottages, and newer apartments, some decorated with large murals. We cross train tracks overgrown with yarrow and blackberry brambles. I make a note to come back and pick them, make a pie.
We wrap around the block and head down the laneway, or wide alley behind the rows of houses. It seems that everyone makes use of the little dirt patch they have by planting rows of squash and beans, rambling roses, tomatoes, beets, celery and basil. Hostas wilt in the heat. Lillies with their last yellow blooms reaching out. Bushy bamboo. It's late, but the sun doesn't set yet- a little later up here.
A pretty front garden gate
Laneway gardens and picket fences
Patio Leo, at M&T's
Any night is a good night to get gelato, but tonight especially.
So we walk from Marcia and Ted's place to a great gelateria a few blocks away. A good chance to see the neighborhood. It's on the edge of a funkier part of town. Not industrial, but near. Not run down, but not tony. Like much of Vancouver, it's a mix of cultures. The big Chinese apartments across the street. Old hippies wearing love beads and Tevas walk by. Thirty somethings with toddlers in strollers. Large Indian (from India) families, the men and boys with their hair twisted up in fabric. All headed to the Italian gelateria. On the way back, we walk down shady tree lined streets with wooden cottages, and newer apartments, some decorated with large murals. We cross train tracks overgrown with yarrow and blackberry brambles. I make a note to come back and pick them, make a pie.
We wrap around the block and head down the laneway, or wide alley behind the rows of houses. It seems that everyone makes use of the little dirt patch they have by planting rows of squash and beans, rambling roses, tomatoes, beets, celery and basil. Hostas wilt in the heat. Lillies with their last yellow blooms reaching out. Bushy bamboo. It's late, but the sun doesn't set yet- a little later up here.
A pretty front garden gate
Laneway gardens and picket fences
Patio Leo, at M&T's
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