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Vancouver Day 7 & 8

the night before Day 7, i had told my hostel dormmate Nancy (who likes to just go by her last name Porter) that i was planning on making a daytrip to Victoria the following day. porter is from houston texas and had driven up through the states up to canada for a long holiday after she was made redundant at her position. she says that she was planning on going to Victoria the following day as well, and since she had a car, how about we just go together?
score!
it was so generous and gracious of her, and it frankly shocked me. i had planned to take the skytrain and bus just to get to the ferry, which would have taken so long i’d have had to leave the hostel super early! but with her car, it became a breeze!
i love these random little encounters you can have with people, and then on the off
chance of something being mentioned, the experiences you can have that come with it!
so we left EARLY, like 6:45am in the morning, for the hour ride from Vancouver to Tsawassen 
porter rocking the wheel like it ain’t no thang.

once at tsawassen (with just moments to spare because we were yapping so much we didn’t pay attention to the GPS and made a couple wrong turns!) we drove onto the ferry headed for swartz bay just outside of Victoria.

the ferry was almost 2 hours but we yapped yapped yapped, made it lots of fun

when we arrived in Swartz Bay, we drove right into the heart of Victoria where the historic China Town is. i know i know, each chinatown likes to tout itself as historic and the biggest and the first, and chingchongpingpong whatever, but apparently, this one actually has some merit. victoria is a super small town, but really fucking cool and the chinatown adds to the suave.

 unlike toronto’s chinatown which smells of rotting feces (both rat and human), garbage juice, halitosis, and is a dilapidated mess of victorian remains, Victoria has restored its chinatown to an illustrious beauty. no garbage juice!

this is john adams, a fatty professor type dude who operated a walking tour of chinatown that porter and i tagged along for. he said that Victoria’s chinatown was the mecca for north american production of Opium until the early 1900s when it was made illegal

some famous cantonese family that owned this town

“so i sez to mable i sez….”

“oh my diapers….did i just push something out or suck something in?”

“my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.”


“when i grow up, i don’t want to be a protestant, i want to be a prostitute.”


nando’s is everywhere in the west coast, why can’t i fucking escape it! stupid portu-geek piri piri

these 3 cafes make up Victoria’s hipster locals. not really loaded for choice of venue, but still, the clientèle is totally shagable on Ossington standards.
walking tour thumbs up
so many cool hidden alleyways that the chinese used for illegal gambling and opium production
up into 16 1/2 studio we go
and a KITT-EH!!
aw. i love a good pussy.
couldn’t tell if that hombre was homeless or hawtness
after the walking tour, we bought tickets to see the play Loot at the McPherson Playhouse by notorious english playwright Joe Orton. this was actually my main reason for making the trip to Victoria, i really wanted to see some West Coast theatre whilst here, and everything in Vancouver was either too expensive or sold out. Loot is a farcical play from the 1960s about a bumbling family with a son whose stolen a lot of money after his mother has died, and hides the money in her coffin, prompting the entire clan to try and find a new place for the body while being hounded by a buffoon of a police officer. when it was staged in london back in the hippie age, it made headlines as being uber scandalous for the way a dead body is not only portrayed on stage, but manipulated and thrown about and discarded as if it were a sewing doll. but now that we’ve had shows like Six Feet Under, CSI, and hell, even Weekend At Bernie’s, this doesn’t feel as scandalous, and it even felt a bit dated, irrelevant, and untimely for 2010. even some of the dialogue was just too precious to be taken seriously. when a character asks the buffoon-cop if his wife is intelligent, the ole bill responds “she’s a woman, intelligence doesn’t really factor into it.”
nice.

but it was still a cute, funny, engaging, and INCREDIBLY WELL ACTED play (i honestly didn’t have a problem with any of the acting performances, they were all brilliant) with tight direction and clever staging.
after the play, i was going to catch the bus back to the ferry (an hour bus ride!) since Porter was staying in Victoria for a few days. but again, her graciousness came through and she offered to drive me all the way back which was totally out of her way. again, if she hadn’t offered, i never would have made the 5pm ferry back and would have had to wait until the 7pm ferry, which means i only would have walked into my hostel back in vancouver well past midnight! but with her help, i made it back around 8pm. in all, with Porter’s help, i saved myself 4hours of transit time and several hard-earned loonies. fanks girl!
the next day, aka Day 8, my old man, who has been living in Seattle for some time (after moving all around the world from Tennessee, Guinea, Africa, Montreal, Maryland, Denver, Arizona…..it goes on), drove up to Vancouver (which is just 150 miles away) to visit me. i hadn’t seen the man since 2007 when we toured Portugal together, so not only was a reunion long overdue, but it was also a bit scary cuz i wasn’t sure how events would unfold. we’ve both changed…
tell me honestly. do you think we look alike? cuz i definitely see it, but that’s because i look at myself everyday and i can see how some of my features are exactly like his. i fink i totally take MORE after my mum…but if you were to look at him and then at me, would you think father-daughter? boss-secretary? (me being the boss, ‘natch) boyfriend-token girlfriend? random portuguese football fans? tell me honestly!
aww. bless.
so dad drove up with his wife Miriam and we got on one of those velveeta tourist hop-on-hop-off buses (my suggestion fail)
look closely at this buidling, there’s something written there. zoom in. if you can figure it out, i’ll buy you a coke zero.
miriam and dad blowing in the wind. vancouver is so unseasonal right now
ah, the VAG. my old nemesis. we meet again
gay bar huzzah!!
english bay je t’aime
after the bus tour, dad had a craving for dim sum so we went to chinatown, which ended up being an epic disaster. dad got a little dim-sum-osis and ordered a large bowel-movement of food, sometimes 2 or 3 times over. the food was good, i was happy with my plate, but some of the things they ordered were apparently disgusting. dad asked to take them off the bill, and the server initially said yes, but then her boss refused. dad got mad and when the whopping $85 bill came (yes $85 for dim sum. dad ordered SOOOOO MUCH GUT BUSTING CHINESE GREASE), he almost refused to tip. i got really embarrassed, because it was clearly just a case of a language barrier and a misunderstanding, and insisted he leave a tip. he begrudgingly left a $2 tip.
$2.
on an $85 bill.
i walked out of there mortified with my head down.
luckily the dim sum place WAS showing fifa, and we watched our brilliant Brazil team slaughter the surprisingly strong Cote D’Ivoire 3-1. and all the brazillians (the people, not the shorn pubis) hit the streets.
on the walk to granville island (gotta burn off those chinese empty calories somehow)….
morrissey!!
granville makes an encore

the olympic flame, unlit.


i made the comment that i was surprised the flame wasn’t lit because when i was in sarajevo, the olympic flame there was still burning.

dad then deadpanned, “there’s lots of things in sarajevo still burning.”

bahahahha! i gotta give the man props for that. he’s seriously funny when he wants to be.

after a beer back in gastown and a shitload of walking and talking and getting reacquainted with each other, they had to set off for the drive back to seattle. it was really great seeing the man again, he was genuinely interested in what’s going on with my life, and i think he felt pretty guilty about the 3 year gap. hopefully it won’t be so long next time.

happy pappy’s for the win.

LEG WELT UPDATE. it has now spawned and branched out, laid bruise-eggs, and taken over my swollen thigh.

i am so schexy. thigh-sex anyone?

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2 responses

  1. I've always said: I love a well-bruised thigh. we should re-unite. Montreal and a theatre awaits you.
    signed,
    Lunduntown

    June 23, 2010 at 6:35 AM

  2. Pingback: ontario loves to mess around with the BC sound «

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