China day 5: Here come the Big Potatoes

Today was the second day this trip that crossed off one of my bucket list sights to see. I woke up Christmas-morning early, and then spent hours drinking my body weight in tea at the breakfast buffet as I killed time. I just wanted to get going! There was so much to see! I wasn’t the only one, though. Two of the other agents awoke at 4am, convinced we had another super early morning and in a total panic because they thought they had missed the wake up call and were going to be left behind. Luckily they called and woke up the tour leader (well, not luckily for the tour leader) before rushing downstairs. That would have been incredibly funny in hindsight…

An en route souvenir stop at a terracotta factory selling scale models to tourists (4 out of 10 on the nice bathroom scale), and then we were at the Terra Cotta Warriors museum. The excitement was palpable. Because, as the guide said, we were “Big Potatoes”, our tour van pulled right up to the entrance gates and let us out, a much shorter walk in than the normal one from the parking lot. Sweet. From the outside it looked nice, a cluster of modern airplane-hangar like buildings with a very clean, busy courtyard connecting them, but it was once you stepped through the doors of Pit 1 that it all becomes real. The vast expanse of space stretching football-field length out in front of you, with the dug-out rows of marching Terracotta soldiers and horses lined up in greeting. Damn, I’m really here. I kept reminding myself to put the camera down every once in a while and just drink it all in with my eyes, as there was so much to see and so many amazing photos to take. In person, they are even cooler than they look in the media. Individually, their details are striking, but seeing them all lined up together really is what makes this so special. In spots there are ladders and tables erected as workspace for the archaeologists who are still actively recovering more and more pieces and rebuilding more of the shattered warriors, and opened, unfinished pits show the piles of rubble (feet and hands and scattered bits of torso) that they have yet to work through. I can only imagine what this place is going to look like in ten years, when hundreds more of the warriors will be standing sentry and all the buildings would have to be extended to house them all. And keep in mind, they still haven’t unearthed the Emperor himself, the man of honour whom all these figures are guarding for eternity. He’s still somewhere beneath the giant pyramid of grass (it sounds silly, but it really is a huge, pointy grass hill), located a mile behind the warriors museum. This is a living, breathing wonder of the world, changing on a daily basis. Oh well, I guess I’m just going to have to come back…

After the short movie showing the history behind the statues, we explored the gift shop (did you have any doubts?) and picked up copies of the souvenir guidebook. What was really cool was that the 85 year old farmer who had discovered the warriors while trying to dig a well back in the 80’s (he’s one of 5 men who found them, and one of only 2 surviving) was there in person, signing autographs and posing for pictures. Hell, he didn’t make much from his monumental discovery (go communism, the land belongs to the government, so they just take it back for free), so earning a living this way is dramatically better than going back to pig farming. He signed and dated my book, and having that date in there, commemorating this forever, is awesome.

Another giant lunch (really good) and then Pits 2 and 3. They have a dramatically different feeling from Pit 1, more polished museum style, as opposed to active archaeological dig, but really well laid out and informative. Many more pictures to be taken and souvenirs to be bought. It’s funny, in Beijing most of the tourists had been Chinese, but here, about half of them were the standard North American/European tourists, all clad in their fast-dry “travel” cargo pants and millions of pockets vests, giant cameras around their necks and two bored looking kids in tow, heads down in their smartphones, oblivious to the amazing sights beside them. There is definately a more adventure/backpacker vibe, and because of it the whole city had more of a tourist atmosphere. You could tell that these warriors really are the only reason most people come to Xian, that it’s more of a once in a lifetime pilgrimage than a place to come and stay for a while. I could have spent more time at the museum, staring down each figure in detail, but with the crowds (once again, this was super low season) you really had to keep moving to allow everyone a chance to witness the spectacle.

Technically, the rest of the day was scheduled as “leisure time”, but we were on such a tight timeline and everyone had such big dreams of what to see and do, we actually just divided up into two groups for yet another adventure. Half of us went with our guide to get a foot and neck massage, while the other half (me included) went to the Xian city wall for a little bike ride. This was no Great Wall, it was actually more sturdy looking, wide and fat, gray stone with big decorative towers and guardhouses spaced intermittently along it’s top. We rented our bikes from the south gate (CAD$3.50 with a CAD$8.50 damage deposit – technically we could have taken these bikes home with us for only CAD$12) and were off. Sort of. The bikes were circa-1950, so it took us a few tries to find ones where the chain didn’t fall off every time you tried to pull the pedal, or where the pedals themselves were rusted still. Eventually, one girl actually just took one with no brakes at all because it was the only one close to her size, and she just carefully coasted to a stop when needed. Needless to say, no one took the bikes home. This was so much fun. It’s so peaceful up on the wall, you’re still surrounded by the heart of Xian, but you feel removed from it, safe up in your perch in the clouds. You can look down and see the hustle below you, then keep pedaling on in comfortable (relative, this is China) silence. And it felt so good to get some exercise and (un)fresh air. The stone pavers were really uneven, being built 641 years ago and all, so we were swerving around like we were drunk, trying to avoid the potholes. Mainly because we thought that if we hit one the bikes would just start falling apart beneath us. Tourists and locals waved and laughed at us as we rode past, gladly moving out of the way of the crazy Canadians.

We returned the bikes (they did give us one of those surprised “you brought them back?” looks, leading me to believe they go though a lot of bikes. So, if you’re ever in need of a rusted and barely functional piece of crap for your biking pleasure, Xian is the place to go!) then kept our legs moving by walking from there to the Drum tower, which is conveniently also one end of the Muslim Market. En route we stopped in at a McDonalds for some drinks and fries, as there is very little more comforting than McDonalds’ fries when traveling internationally, and to use the bathroom. McDonalds always have good bathrooms. The market shopping was good tonight, we found a quieter side street that was just as filled with stalls, but had a third of the crowds. We brought home a pretty sweet haul, let me tell you. Talking a taxi back from the hotel was an adventure, too. We found a minivan taxi that didn’t have any real seats in the back, so we just sat on wooden planks slightly raised off the floor, and hopped in hoping the driver knew where we were going. I had shown him the address written in Chinese and the little tiny map on the back of the hotel’s business card, both of which he had nodded “yeah yeah” to, but taxi drivers are notorious for nodding like that and then driving around in circles for weeks, trying to figure out where to go. I like to call this a “cultural experience”, which involves a lot of blind faith, but in our case it worked out, and for a ridiculously cheap fare, too

So back to the hotel for one last night in my giant room, filled with a lot of “oh my god, how am I going to fit all this crap in my suitcase?” packing. Yep, you guessed it, 4am wake up call tomorrow!

Tags: biking, BlogSherpa, bucket list, fun, history, museum, once in a lifetime, shopping, souvenirs, taxis, Terra Cotta Warriors, Xian, Xian City Wall

China trip day 2: The Icy Toes of History

Gotta love jet lag. I was dead tired, barely functional the night before, and here I was waking up at 4am, wide awake and ready to go. Unwilling to conceed defeat to the sleep monster, I lay there for the next two hours, but ended up mentally going through the order teams had been eliminated from the Amazing Race, all 19 seasons, instead of getting more much needed shut eye. Up at 6, but not needing to meet the group until 830, I bundled up against the elements and went for a walk around the block. I love mornings like this in a new city, getting to see the place wake up, as the working class hits up the food carts (not the ones with the snake on a stick, or at least I hope not…) for their bag lunches to go, and parents walk their kids to school. I feel invisible, but that’s a good thing, as I don’t get the standard cheezy tourist treatment and can just enjoy the everyday life of this great place. Beijing was dawning beautiful and sunny, and the hustle and bustle was there, but still not the craziness or the crowds I had prepped for. Instead it was just comfortable, and being comfortable in a place is a huge, huge factor for me. When I, as a single woman, can walk around a city and just relax and enjoy it,  that is the best sign that a city is going to be fantastic.

After a giant breakfast at the typical Asian “everything you could possibly imagine – fish and pizza and congee and Cocoa Pops” hotel buffet (they always have Cocoa Pops. Every country I’ve ever been in. Go figure. For this sole reason they have become my strange vacation obsession), we loaded our gloved and scarfed selves into the minibus and headed for Tianamen Square. Our adorable guide Jimmy – if keeping him in our luggage had been an option, we would have kept him throughout the whole tour – paraded us around carrying a bright red fabric fish on a telescoping pole, which, despite the fact it looked ridiculous, was amazingly easy to see in a forest of tour groups whose leaders were all carrying identical flags. There were thousands of people here, and every one was with a tour group, all moving in little flocks through the vast expanse of the square. If you turned your back on your group to take a picture, you had to be careful that when you turned back you were still with the right people, as it was so easy to get swept up with another group and before you knew it you were on the bus with a bunch of Israeli tourists. The square itself is pretty plain, a big white expanse of concrete with some cool statues on one side, the Mao’s portrait-clad entrance to the Forbidden City on another, and the giant queue to see the refridgerated body of Mao on the other. The lines were too long, we missed him on this trip, but I’ll get it next time… We found out after the fact that there are a lot of plain clothed securirt patroling the square and the Forbidden City, but you’d never know it, it feels so open and friendly. Got some great pictures, the cloudless blue sky made everything look spectacular, but once again it was really cold and windy, so we spent a lot of time huddling together and trying not to die.

You’re going to notice a trend in these blogs – that we were freaking freezing. The whole time we were in Beijing it stayed subarctic, and, despite the fact that some of our group were from tropical cities like Halifax and Calgary, we just could not get warm. The wind permeated everything, and before going to the Great Wall we were even warned to really bundle up so to not loose toes to frostbite. There’s nothing more comforting than that. It got to the point that our drivers, who spoke no English, knew the words for “crank up the heat!!!!” by the time we were done with them. I’m from Vancouver, where we don’t really get weather aside from mild temperatures, sun and rain, plus I traditionally run a little colder than the average person, so I should get a free pass for being so cold. But the people from the Praries really have no excuse

Then through the underpass to the Forbidden City. This was the first of many surreal moments on the trip, seeing in person those iconic red buildings and carriageways we’ve all seen on TV a million times. It’s more like the Forbidden City within a city within a city, as you would pass through one massive gate to a giant plaza, explore that, then pass through another massive gate into a larger version of the exact same plaza, with a more gigantic courtyard and even grander building. One of the things tat really surprised me here was how 90% of the tourists were Chinese. I had expected the standard flocks of overbearing white people (ourselves included), but practically everyone (and there were a lot, despite it being low season. I, for the record, never want to be in China at high season, that would be insane!) was Chinese. That’s actually a really amazing thing, though, as so often we forget to visit the awesome treasures in our own country, and these sites are definately once in a lifetime, bucket list places. The second half of the Forbidden City, the residential area, definately has more character and less pagantry than the first half. Smaller spaces, the details still ornate, but more homey feeling, cute little courtyards with trees, and a beautiful garden with gazebos and giant limestone rocks (because a traditional Chinese garden is not complete without a rock). This is also where I learned that the best way to get a bathroom stall is to literally grab people and pull them out of the way (they didn’t seem to mind, everyone was doing it, and I’m bigger than the average Chinese woman, so I can take them, lol), and that the tip to always carry a roll of toilet paper in my purse paid off in spades, as I became the defacto supplier for the group, whenever someone ran out.

After the grandeur of the Forbidden City, it was time for the first of many massive Chinese meals. The drill goes like this – you sit in a private room, because they clearly don’t want us in the general population, around a big table with a giant lazy susan in the middle. There’s unlimited tea and one small class of water, beer, Coke or Sprite. Waiters just stary bringing giant plates of food and you eat whatever you want. Sometimes you don’t really know what it is, so you make an educated guess. Normally most of the dishes are a variation veggies and some meat, not really spicy, theres a bowl of egg drop soup, one bowl of plain rice, and dessert is always either watermelon or oranges. At this point in the trip, it was all new and exciting food, and we all went to town, so much that only 2 out of the 10 of us even bothered to have dinner that night.

Today was one of those “but wait, there’s more!” days, because everywhere we went there was always another stop on the itinerary, and they were all great. From Lunch we walked through Tientan Park and saw the awesome Temple of Heaven. Lesson learned, everything is bigger here than it looks in pictures. Especially on the nice sunny day we had, it looked really spectacular, and you nearly forgot that the chaos of Beijing was just meters away. An hour commute (which in Beijing commuter minutes is a really short drive) brought us to the Summer Palace. I had always thought this was outside of Beijing, as when they say in the guidebook it’s more than an hour from the city centre, you assume it’s out in the ‘burbs. But as I was coming to learn, Beijing is so expansive that to get to the ‘burbs you have to practically get to Korea. Instead of spreading up, like so many major metropolises (metropolii? Whatever), it spread out, and as far as the eye can see from the highest point you can get to, it’s still central Beijing. Back to that “everything’s bigger in China” thing. It’s hard to wrap my brain around just how giant this place is, and how many people are here, but I’m trying.

The Summer Palace, the tranquil garden escape of the “Dragon Lady” (look it up), is incredible. She may have been domineering and ruthless as she took over the Empire, but she did build a pretty sweet garden oasis. The fifteen foot stone walls really do keep the outside world out, and if you didn’t see the telecom tower in the background, you’d think you really were away from it all in another world. Vast, beautifully landscaped, with a giant lake, rolling hills and pagodas lurking off in the mist (read:smog), more classical buildings and pedal boats that would be a fun way to explore if it had been warmer. The highlights here are the sprawling riverside corridor covered hundreds of detailed paintings, each one different, and the marble boat, a gaudy, immobile boat used for the sole purpose of sitting in and sipping tea. The ultimate display of self indulgence. Personally, I would have added a slide

At 5 we were deposited back at the hotel. It had been a long day of sightseeing, but an incredible one, and we were all more excited and energetic than tired, bouncing around like caffinated hamsters. I set off for a little geurilla shopping, as I had an hour and a half to kill before meeting with the local Chinese sales rep I deal with all the time (super nice, sweet guy, great to meet him in person, boring to blog about), and a giant shopping mall to explore. Moving as fast as possible I hit up all the stores, only to discover China doesn’t carry my shoe size except in Men’s, at Sephora it’s easy to have an entire conversation with a sales clerk using nothing but hand signals to bridge the language barrier, and that I love tacky souvenirs so much that I chose to save my cash for them rather than spend it here on any of the actual functional stuff.

Now that’s what I call a good day. Tomorrow, the Wall!

Tags: Beijing, China, Cocoa Pops, Cold, Forbidden City, fun, huge, shopping, Summer Palace, Temple of Heaven

Hey Baby let’s go to Vegas

We called it The Hangover part 3 - The Birthday. And we made him wear a
wolf t-shirt to show the world he was no longer a "one man Wolf Pack". 
The twist was that instead of the four of us trying to get home from
Vegas, most of the drama was in the getting there. But there was a "huh,
why am I waking up in the middle of the night...and what are you doing to
me?" moment.
You see, up until 5am on the morning of his birthday, Fraser, the man of
honour had no idea he was going to Las Vegas. In less than an hour, to be
exact. Epic birthday present of epicness. It wasn't even my surprise, or
my Husband, but I was super excited just to be part of it. The planning
had been months in the making, and I have gotta give my best friend some
serious credit for managing to somehow book the trip, arrange it with Eric
and I, set up a ride to/from the airport and pack his suitcase, all
without her husband ever suspecting a thing. The only (weak) red flag
that had gone up in his mind was that he thought some of his clothes may
have been missing, but he just assumed they were in the laundry and let it
slide. The night before Eric and I had gone over for our usual friday
night Rockband extravaganza, and planned on crashing on their hideabed
under the guise that we were going to be too drunk to drive. Nothing
remotely unusual there. Except that at midnight we all started getting
suddenly really, really sleepy, but luckily our horrible overacting and
really dramatic yawns and stretches worked, and we were able to get some
shut-eye before our middle of the night wake up call. 
Long story short, he had a happy, still asleep grin on his face when we
loaded him on the plane, and by noon we were in shorts and beginning that
great Vegas passtime, drinking, in a booth at Hooters. When in Vegas, go
as classy as possible, right? 
Us girls had been to Vegas before, but both guys were Vegas virgins, so
we wasted no time showing them how to navigate the maze of Mexicans
handing out hooker cards (collect all 10,345 for a free t-shirt! No, not
really, but that would make all the guys collecting them slightly less
perverted). Funny story - we were all trying to collect a pile of these
to give as a free gift to a friend back in Vancouver (I swear... oh, never
mind...), so I reached for one as we walked past, and the guy wouldn't
give one to me because I was a woman! Sorry, lesbians, apparently Vegas
won't let you call 1-800-LIVEGIRLS.
Vegas is such a surreal place. Everything is oversized, flashy and
gimmicky, like Disneyland with exposed breasts. A place where everybody
walks around with their yard-ling frozen margarita permenently attached to
their lip and either a lizzardy brown tan that definately is not supposed
to appear in nature or clothes way, way too tight for the amount of flesh
squished into them. And if you tick both boxes... now that's just wrong,
people, wrong! I'm a shorts and tank tops kinda girl, and don't get me
wrong, I like my tanks pretty low cut and my shorts well above my knees,
but Vegas always makes me feel overdressed. Dramatically overdressed. 
Unless I'm standing next to a fully decked out bride (Vegas bride count
this trip - 7) sweltering in the heat and trying to look fabulous (and/or
trashy), then I feel underdressed and confused as to how my invite got
lost in the mail. Is it just me, or is Vegas the most impersonal place to
get married? It makes a wedding a production line event there.
But I digress. Back to The Birthday. The one thing Fraser had told his
wife he wanted to do if he was ever in Las Vegas was to see Carrot Top, so
we made sure we had third row seats on birthday night. Let me just say,
Carrot Top was freaking hillarious. The posters tout him as "Vegas' #1
act" for _ many years running, and I can see why. It's approachable
humour, not too dirty, not too clean, not too overpriced and just straight
up funny. But he is one weird looking dude up close! I am so glad we did
that. He had this one joke about how the theme song to Las Vegas should
be The Proclaimers' "I would walk 500 miles", because all you do all day
is walk. You walk the Strip, where the hotels are so big it feels like
half a mile just to get from the Paris to Bally's next door, you walk
through the massive casinos, and then you walk down one of those endless
hallways from your nightmares with nothing but a thousand doors to finally
find your hotel room, which is always in the other direction that you
originally turned. By the end of that first day we were all coated in
that wonderful Vegas combination of sunscreen, sweat and casino smoke, had
an "oh my god I've been up since 5 and drinking since noon" glazed look in
our eyes, and our feet were actually blistered from all that walking in
the wrong shoes. Eric turned to me as we got back to our room and
sleepily commented that he didn't care what we did the next day, but could
we take a cab there?
Day two began with the other Vegas passtime (aside from drinking,
gambling, and gorging on buffets - which we didn't do, BTW. The buffets,
anyway. Not yet) as we headed to the half price ticket booth to secure
discounted day-of tickets to Le Reve. From there it was to the Venetian
for a gondola ride. I love that! And then we walked. And gambled. And
walked. And gambled. My casino luck in the past had been a consistant
thirty seconds to watch my $20 dissappear, after which I gave up and
watched everyone else have fun. Not this trip, baby! While the guys
watched the Canucks' playoff game at the diner in the Treasure Island, I
won $200 on the penny slots, and by the time we went home was up over
$400! We all did pretty good, actually, winning over $1000 between the 4
of us. Booyeah! So we celebreated with a ridiculously overpriced steak
dinner at Ruth's Chris Steak House (I will never understand that
restaurant name. Is a Chris Steak something that belongs to Ruth? Or is
it Ruth Chris' Steak House and someone put the apostrophe in the wrong
place? And what the hell is a Chris Steak? Looked like beef to me? 
Needless to say, I had the chicken, just to be safe).
Everyone kept telling us Le Reve was the best show in Vegas. For that
price it had damn well better be! Well, we almost didn't get to see it. 
We get to the Wynn, find the theatre and I reach in my purse to pull out
the tickets... only to find the zipper stuck. Not just a little stuck, but
terminally, can't even stick a finger in there to wiggle out the tickets
stuck. So we drop to our knees, pulling and yanking and trying to tear my
purse appart with our bare hands, which was then followed up with us
trying to hack into my purse with keys. This is when security showed up
and told us we couldn't sit on the floor in the Wynn. Apparently hacking
at a purse that may or may not have been ours was totally okay, but
sitting on the floor was just wrong. After a lot of elbow grease we
successfully ripped the zipper apart, shredded my purse, got the tickets
and enjoyed the show. Had to hold my purse closed for the rest of the
trip, but enjoyed the show. It was a kind of aerial acrobatics/high
dive/synchronized swimming/ballroom dancing show (try to picture that, I
dare you), but it was actually pretty cool. I'm not a fan of any of the
Cirque Du Soleil shows, they're just not my cup of tea, but this was
pretty cool.
Ironically, while all this was going down, the Billboard Music Awards
were going down at our hotel, the MGM Grand. Who knows, had we stayed
closer to the hotel we might have rubbed elbows with Rihanna or been able
to tell Britney that she's shorter, but just as slutty in person. But
alas...no.
Day three, the finale, dawned with us finally hitting a Vegas buffet. 
Shit that was a lot of food. Good, but a lot of food. And you feel
obligated to eat it all to justify the $30/head price tag. In an
overstuffed syrup induced stupor we then hopped a taxi to do something I
never thought I would ever do - fire machine guns. Not toy guns, not
paintball guns, but big ass, turn the wrong way your doing life for
manslaughter machine guns. The ads for the Gun Store were everywhere, so
we figured, what the hell. The boy went for the giant scare the shit out
of me packages, firing things that looked like they could take down
passing aircraft, but the girls stuck with the "Ladies package" firing a
nice, feel like a TV detective handgun and a pink AK-47. Not only was it
pink, but it had a sticker of Hello Kitty holding a machine gun on the
butt. No joke. I have pictures. Have to admit I was shaking during the
actual firing, but it was fun. The feeling of power it gives you is a
rush, and that adrenaline is actually kind of unnerving. We should have
considered the fact that we then had to fly home with gunshot residue on
our hands, but luckily we made it past the dogs all right.
In the taxi back to the hotel, we all had drinks to replenish our lost
fluids from the two-hour wait at the Gun Store, and our taxi driver, while
stopped at a light, actually used the clippy part of his seatbelt to open
a beer bottle for Fraser. Amazing. He got a good tip.
Then it was suddenly time to go home and back to work and reality the
next day. We were all packed and ready, and upon arrival at the airport
my friend tells the online boardingpass printer thing that we're
transporting dangerous goods. Seriously. One wrong button press and you
get this voucher telling you to report to the check in counter for
additional screening. Visions of cavity searches and that aforementioned
gunpowder residue test start flashing before my eyes, but luckily this
must happen all the time, because the gate agent believed us that it was
just a little mistake and printed out our boarding passes without problem.
Will keep that in mind if I'm ever on the lam from the po-po.
And as quickly as The Birthday had begun, it was over. Back in Vancouver
we collapsed into our beds, only to wake up the next morning and wonder if
it was all a dream. But no. The free camo tee from the Gun Store and the
extra $400 proved it was real. And so worth it. What a great birthday to
Fraz. And, just for the record, if anyone ever wants to surprise me on my
birthday with a vacation, the date is August 28th  

Tags: birthday, Carrot Top, friends, fun, gun, Las Vegas, shows, surprise, walking

And then she fell – experiencing Vancouver’s ski culture – a beginner’s perspective

It’s where the first ever gold medal was won by a Canadian athlete on home soil almost a year ago.  It’s got great snow, great runs, great facilities and it’s only half an hour from my driveway.  Cypress Mountain had been, until recently, an enigma to me – I knew where it was but had never gone up there.  There was no reason to, because, after all, I am not a skier.    I am the exact opposite of a skier, actually.  If it is possible to be the negative of a skier, that’s me.  I don’t even like being cold.  The only time I previously wore skis was in grade 6 and it ended with me and my sprained ankle being loaded onto a sled and taken away by first aid ski-doo.  And that was flat-land cross country.  So you can imagine the trepidation I felt agreeing to try snowboarding.  But when you have these amazing facilities on your doorstep, it’s stupid not to experience them, right?

When I told my Grandmother my plans she asked sweetly if I was “going snowboarding or snow falling?”  That was not a good sign.  But I’m always up for a challenge, and with good friends, a brave face and a “good luck” A&W hashbrown in my stomach, I was ready to go.  The first thing that greets you at the lodge are the giant lime green Olympic rings which, I swear, are just there to make you feel invincible.  There’s something about seeing them there that suddenly takes over your body and makes you believe that you too are an Olympic caliber athlete.  Clearly this mountain would not accept any less.  And clearly I am totally delusional.  I’m a big believer in that when you look like you know what you’re doing, it helps your performance (see delusional comment above), and once we were all kitted out in our rental gear I honestly thought this couldn’t be nearly as difficult as I’d previously thought. 

Thank God not one of the four of us really had any previous snowboard experience, so we started off the day in the only logical fashion: with a lesson.  It was pretty much us and 100 elementary school kids all learning to swoosh and splat together.  We were the taller ones not wearing neon. It was only when I landed on my knees the first time that my imperviousness started to wane when I discovered that I couldn’t get up gracefully.  It was more like a giraffe trying to drink – ass in the air, knees splayed at odd angles, inner thighs screaming as they attempted to keep the board from flying out from under you and sending you right back to the snow. I’m pretty good at laughing at myself when I tank at something, which turned out to be an invaluable skill.   Two hours later we had mastered the learning hill (six feet of fun with a bench at the top) and I was getting the hang of this snowboarding thing.  There’s still something horribly unnatural to not having your body face in the direction you’re going, and knowing if you try to turn that way, you either stop or fall, but whatever, I was psyched and ready to move up to the big girl hills. 

By big girl hills, I mean the mile long bunny hill.  I’m not that stupid.  To get up there it meant taking my first chair lift, and that was nearly as exciting as the run itself.  It was when we were about halfway up that I remembered that my lesson had not included chairlift instructions.  My boyfriend, who’s lesson had included that important skill, tried his best to talk me through it, but it still ended with me making an ungraceful splat and then trying desperately to crawl out of the way of the incredibly talented 8 year olds who were in the chair behind.  My record for the day ended up at 0 for 4.

Holy crap, this thing looked steep from the top.  Visions of that first aid ski-doo ride started flashing through my head, but I came to snowboard, dammit, I could make it down this hill no problems.  Sometimes being young and stupid works to my advantage.  Face sideways, perfect form… oh shit! I’m going too fast and have no idea how to stop… and I was on my ass in the snow.  I’d made it about fifteen feet.  Now I had been awesome at getting up back on the flats, but when you throw in a 50 degree angle it’s a whole new ball game.  Ten minutes of trying everything I had in my arsenal, including squirming, panting, praying to the Gods of snowboarding and making snow angels (that last part was just to make me feel better.  It was an ugly snow angel with my feet attached together) I had to resort to taking one foot out of the bindings, standing, and buckling myself back in.  Standing back up is the hardest part of snowboarding, hands down.  Take two.  All told, it took me fifteen minutes to get down that hill, complete with two spectacular face plants and a lot of snow stuck in interesting inner places in my gear.  Thankfully, falling didn’t hurt nearly as much as getting up did.

By now I was exhausted.  But the only way to learn something is repetition, so it was back to the chair splat, I mean chair lift.  By the end of the day I was noticeably better, my record was only three falls on the way down, and I was very, very good at taking off and re-fastening my bindings.  I’d only cried once, out of sheer frustration when I fell right at the top of the hill (read: inches before I’d actually started going down it) and had been unable to get up while a kid the size of my right thigh swooshed past me with ease, but that actually turned into my best run of the day, so it had been worth something.   I cannot tell you how much I appreciated flat ground, my running shoes and a hot tea, though.

All told, snowboarding was really fun.  Now I understand why people from all over the world flock to Vancouver just for the mountains, as you can easily head up after a long day at the office and still get a few good runs in before closing.  And it’s conveniently close if you have to be heli-lifted to hospital, so that’s comforting.  I’m not sure if it’s my sport… yet,  I’ll need more practice and the ability to get up and stop without falling (both skills which I’m nowhere near mastering), but I’m not giving up.  Just taking an extended break

Tags: Cyprus Mountain, death, Exercise, falling, fear, fun, skiing, snow, snowboarding, vancouver

Home is where the holiday is

‘Tis the season for millions of people to migrate back to their Motherland and spend the holidays with their families.  Consequently, it’s also the time of year all travel providers (airlines, hotel chains, etc) jack up the prices because they know whatever the cost, you’ll pony up, because being with your family is that important.  Hell, even seven elevens increase their prices, so you’re paying more for that road trip essential Slim Jim.  But with the economy being what it is, this year I’ve had a lot of clients forced to walk away from their standard plans, as the cost is just too high.  The majority still traveled, but it got me thinking about the significance of spending the holidays at your home, away from the usual folks. 

Yes, this is sad.  It hurts.  And there’s probably a good amount of guilt rolled up with it.  But at the same time, this is a chance for a fresh start.  A chance to spend time with your new “family”, biological or not, to gather together with the ones you love and see often and appreciate one another all the more.  And a chance to create new traditions of your own. 

We all have one – that family tradition you’ve been begging to get out of since you were old enough to formulate sentences.  It may be Aunt Suze’s caroling around the neighbourhood, regardless of the weather or her singing ability.  Or it could be watching A Christmas Carol, the old creepy one, for the millionth time.  I mean, I am all about the holidays, but that is one seriously depressing movie.  This year, you’re off duty.  You don’t have to do any of that crap, and you don’t even have to pretend you did. 

Ah, the Christmas dinner.  That gold mine of traditions and “oh my God, what is that and why is it mushy”-ness.  Being away gives you the freedom to decide what you want to consume.  If you’re invited to a loved ones’ family fete, you can always create a phantom “allergy” to anything you don’t want to eat, they don’t know your medical history, and as long as you’re friendly and festive, your lack of eating anything that wasn’t turkey or off the dessert table will be completely overlooked.  Or, if you’re cooking yourself, it’s even better.  Always wanted that Holiday lasagna?  What’s stopping you?  For less than 4 people, turkey is way more effort than it’s worth, and what could be more festive than a red-sauced lasagna with white noodles and a green side salad?  If it makes you feel better, refer to the cheese sprinkled on top as “magic snow”, then sit back and enjoy. 

But the point is that no matter where you are or who you’re with, the holidays can be special, and if circumstances prevented you from reenacting the identical holiday for the 30th year, that doesn’t mean all is lost.  It means you just have to redefine your definition of merriment and joy.  Have fun!  Have the happiest of holidays! 

Just don’t forget to call your Mom.

Tags: Christmas., family, friends, fun, holidays, love, travel

California Girl for a week! Part 2: The sequel

…Putting the convertible to good use, the next day we drove an hour and a half up to LA for Universal Studios.  It started off cloudy and nasty today, too, but cleared up so we could groove with the top down on the way home.  I personally feel Universal Studios is the most overrated of the major southern California attractions, as it’s really expensive (both parking and admission) and there really isn’t all that much there.  If my friend wasn’t a movie buff I probably would have skipped it altogether.  The reason to go essentially is the Studio Tram tour, which is always enjoyable and different, as you see the ins and outs of an actual working film studio.  It’s also a major chunk of your day, as when you combine the nearly hour long tour with the line for it, it’s a two-hour experience. The last time I was here I had been on a business trip, so it’s a very different experience to wander around with a bunch of know-it-all travel agents (me included) who ask a lot of obnoxious questions so we can properly sell the park to our clients, as it is to explore in a purely tourist capacity.  This was more fun, but that way they threw in some of the perks, like the VIP tour, for free, so it really came out as a tie.

Late afternoon we’d seen all they had to offer and spent some enjoyable time shopping at the Universal Citywalk right outside the gates.  I’m a big fan of Citywalk, the mix of stores is good, not too expensive, very kitchy and touristy (love my touristy crap!) and a good selection of places to eat, from Bubba Gump Shrimp Co to Taco Bell.  The Sugar candy store even had a ten-pound gummy bear that had me wondering how I was going to get it through customs.  I didn’t.

The following day finally brought the sunshine back with a vengenance, as this was the start of LA’s recent heat wave.  It had to be 40 degrees, but it felt soooo gooood on my shoulders!  We braved traffic back into downtown LA(top down this time) to do some shopping at the trendy Grove shopping mall and the quaint LA Farmer’s Market, which just so happen to be connected to one another.  You know a mall is uber trendy when they offer valet service and have bathroom attendants in the parking garage.  Not kidding.  Never know if I have to tip those people who stand silently in the corner listening to people pee all day…  The shopping there was pretty weak, but that was mainly because neither of us was in need of a $200.00 pair of jeans and the like, but the decor was nice.  Dancing fountains and a central piazza that looked straight out of Italy until you turned around and found yourself facing a 20-screen multiplex movie theatre.

The Farmer’s Market was tiny!  And I mean tiny.  Like thirty different food stalls, two grocery stalls, and ten stores selling crap even too tacky for me, and that was it.  It was more like the LA International food court instead of a Farmer’s Market.  But there were three places that sold handmade ice cream that was really good (according to me and all the signed headshots of celebrities on the walls), and at the Sur La Table kitchen store I did buy this adonrable pan to make handmade mini doughnuts I’m dying to try out, so it wasn’t all a waste.

The real reason we were in LA today was because we had tickets to a taping of the Craig Ferguson Show at CBS Studios.  The studios are actually right beside the Farmer’s Market, too, which is actually how we stumbled upon the market in the first place.  In an incredible twist of fate, our plans for the day had been to scope out CBS Studios, then go to the Farmer’s Market, and then make it back to CBS in time for our afternoon taping.  It was only when we got to CBS that we discovered our planned desitnations were actually in the same place.  High five. 

As an aside, we had a Tom Tom with us and that thing rocks.  With all the lanes and exits and spaghetti junctons in SoCal, that soothing female voice smoothly guided us everywhere with a minimal effort.  Except when the driver failed to listen to her.  Or couldn’t get over into the right lane.  Mostly failed to listen.  Then she gets mad, “as soon as possible, please turn around”  “please turn around” “turn around” “TURN AROUND!”.

Back to Craigy Ferg.  Our tickets were for a 230 taping, but by the time our crowd got wrist-banded, searched by security, all our cell phones confiscated, warmed up and prepped for the rigorous duty of audiencing, it was nearly 430 and we hadn’t seen anything yet.  They instructed us to laugh at all guests equally, not boo if something is offensive, and tone it down if you have one of those “special” laughs (you know who you are).  The warm up guy was really funny, and soon we were in studio, watching the show go down live in font of us.  John Hamm from Mad Men (surprisingly funny and charming), a surprise Betty White (who actually looks her age in person, but who’s still the coolest thing out there), and the creator of “Bored to Death” on HBO (or some network) who was hysterically funny and talked in a onotone about how he didn’t think he had a real penis since his was so small.  No kidding.  It was a riot.  The whole show was ridiculously funny.  Hell, even the guy with the jaunty sweater tied over his shoulders who was pulled onstage and mocked as the “gay guy” despite the fact he was there with his wife and kids was funny.  Good times, good times.  And if you ever wonder if they do edits and takes on a nighttime talk show, the answer is no.  It all plays out rapidly and remarkably smoothly right before your eyes like it would watching at home, minus the commercials.  Loved it!

Back to Disneyland for our last full day in California.  A friend who lives in LA and has a season’s pass came and joined us and it was a lot of fun. I love Disneyland and I love the heat, but mid afternoon we were all feeling it.  The fact that we’d all chosen to wear black didn’t help us out any, either   Now we were able to go back and ride all our favorites, as we’d already hit pretty much everything once we wanted to, as well as do all the last-ditch shopping we had been meaning to do all week.  After dinner at Target (there was no time to stop and eat, there was shopping to do, people!  I literally had chocolate covered cherries straight off the shelf as we perused, then had to run the empty box through the register) we caught an opening night showing of the  new Wall Street movie (air conditioned!) and concluded another fantastic day by watching the Disneyland fireworks from the comfort of our parkview hotel room’s picture window.

Last day.  I can never believe when a trip is over.  And I can never figure out where to keep all our crap.  It never feels like I’m buying all that much as I shop, but when the time comes to re-pack, there’s never any space.  Luckily my friend hadn’t brought a carry-on with him on the way down, so he was able to fly home with all our overflow stuffed animals (when in Disneyland I dare you not to come home without at least two stuffies.  Let me tell you, it ain’t gonna work) in a giant Disney bag.  I’m sure that helped his street cred   We were checked out bright and early, and our last stop was the Crystal Cathedral.  I never thought I’d actually intentionally come to the Crystal Cathedral (I used the bathroom there once years ago, but that doesn’t count), but we needed to pick up some souvenirs for the people back home.  They have a surprisingly large gift shop, and they gave me a free Crystal Cathedral pen with my purchase of an angel decending from heaven (or ascending to heaven, depending on how you hold it) floaty pen.  Bless them.

Saying goodbye to Sally at the Avis lot was a sad, sad moment.  It’s like all my coolness went with that convertible.  But I promised her I’d be back someday! 

Our flight home was surprisingly mellow and easy, thanks to Plants Versus Zombies on iPhone, and before we knew it we were home.  It really was a great trip, some very much needed r&r, a little sun, a lot of fun, and a lot of laughter.  What more can you ask for?  I wish we all could be California Girls (and guys, gotta keep this PC)!!!

Tags: CBS, convertible, Craig Ferguson, Disneyland, fun, LAX, Los Angeles, shopping, sunshine, TV, Universal Studios

California girl for a week! Part 1: the beginning

There is nothing like touching down at LAX, seeing the trademark arched restaurant, the palm trees, the smog and the shuttle buses to Disneyland.  I’ve done this like fifteen times before, but it never fails to make me happy, and last week, that is exactly what I needed.  A little California love.

It was a torrential downpour when we left Vancouver, which only made 25 degrees and sunny all the more fantastic upon touchdown.  The Avis lady successfully upsold us to a silver Mustang convertible (oh my God, that was a hard decision!  The whole conversation went something like this: “Want to drive a convertible?  The upgrade is chea-”  *Interrupted* “We’ll take it”) and soon we were cruising down I-5, top down, Beach Boys blaring at an obnoxious, of-course-we’re-tourists-and-loving-it level.  There’s something about a convertible ‘Stang (we named her Sally, natch) that just makes you feel free, and I found myself looking at the other convertibles we passed as if we were bonded, we had admission into the special club of convertible people.  These strangers were our new peeps.

Soon we checked into our nicely renovated room at the Red Lion Anaheim, applied the sunscreen we should have put on our pasty Canadian skin before renting a convertible (oops), and headed to the Block at Orange for a little first day of vacation retail therapy, dinner and a movie.  I just have to go on record thanking AMC cinemas for having arm rests in their theatres that lift up, so if there’s no one next to you you can pop up all the arm rests and actually get comfortable.  Such a small touch, but it rocks. So much so that I enjoyed that more than the movie

The next day it was onto Disneyland.  If you’ve read my blog before (and if you haven’t shame on you! Lol) you know I’m kinda sorta really obsessed with Disneyland worldwide.  It’s my crack, the addiction I just can’t shake, and if I’m ever within 200 miles of one, you know I’m there.  I’ve been to this park something like 20 times, but the second I enter that central plaza and can hear the Disney classics being piped in over the sound system, a stupid grin affixes itself onto my face and I’m Disnified all over again.  My friend had never been here before, so I kept lapsing into tour guide mode, spouting useless facts and planning a route for optimal rideage, before snapping out of it and just letting him enjoy the experience.  I had never been here for the Holiday versions of the Haunted Mansion and Space Mountain before and I was really surprised at how large a change they are.  I had always assumed they just left the ride the same and threw in some Nightmare Before Christmas/ghostly decor and called it re-themed, but it’s actually a totally new ride experience.  The Haunted Mansion specifically.  The new decor was all-encompassing, the storyline was totally different, the colours were brighter and the overall effect was actually much less creepy than the usual ride.  It was really noticeable near the beginning, when you’re in the stretching room, and normally lightning flashes and you see the hanging corpse above you.  But the holiday version had the same lightning, only accompanied by the not creepy at all smiling face of Jack Skellington.  The Space Mountain:Ghost Galaxy retheme was a little more on the spooky side, with giant projections of space ghosts where the planets normally are, and because the planets are not illuminated, the entire ride experience is darker.  This makes it feel much faster, though the ride itself has not changed at all.

The following day was all Disney, too.  Giddy fun in the warm California sun.  It was hot this day, and mid afternoon we hit up the shops to buy all the breakables (4 mugs between the 2 of us, but they were so cute, we couldn’t resist) and stuff we hadn’t wanted to carry on the rides (a stuffed Yoda will now provide me guidance from the top of my bookshelf) before going back to the hotel.  While my friend slept off the heat, I took my hyper self shopping at the nearby Anaheim Gardenwalk mall.  I know it was 230pm on a Monday, but this area is full of people on vacation, so there was no reason for the mall to be a ghost town.  There were like ten shoppers in the whole place, and most of the people in the halls were employees walking off their boredom.  I couldn’t believe it.  Granted, there really aren’t any flagship stores, unless you like the over-perfumed yuppie clothes of Hollister, and it was too early for the good selection of restaurants to be busy, but still.  It was almost uncomfortable being there.  So I went to Sephora in downtown Disney.  I always got to Sephora in Downtown Disney.  At this point they should just see me coming and greet me at the door with a little basket and my favorite flavour of iced tea.  A girl can dream… But I spent my money like a good shopper, then went back to the hotel, picked up my friend and we headed back to Disney to hit the California Adventure Park.

I always describe this park to clients as a good way to spend an afternoon if the lines at Disneyland get too long.  There just simply isn’t too much there, and consequently the lines are usually short.  Now it’s also massively under construction, as Disney has realized this and they’re in the process of building a big-ticket Little Mermaid Ride, a park, and a whole new Cars Land, complete with giant prefab mountains that were just beginning to take shape.  When this park matures, it’ll be great, but for now all you have to do is make sure you ride Soaring over California and spend some time lost in Disney wonderment at the Animation Studio and you can leave fulfilled.  They have just launched a new World of Colour show that’s supposed to be spectacular, combining projections, lasers and thousands of dancing fountains, but the fastpasses were sold out by the time we got there, and neither of us were willing to start lining up three hours early in order to get a good seat.  That’s precious Disney time wasted.  So maybe next time…  I’ve never seen the Fantasmic show in Disneyland, either, for the exact same reason.

Day three brought a last-minute road trip down to San Diego.  The plan was to enjoy the two hour dive each way with the top down, wind in our hair, but the weather had other plans.  Overcast with a high of 19 degrees meant that it was top up, hoodie on, but the ride was till enjoyable.  We spent the day at the world-famous San Diego Zoo, and I can’t recommend this place enough.  It’s got more species in one place than pretty much any zoo on the planet, it’s nicely landscaped, so you feel like you’re exploring the pathways instead of just walking down pre-fab roads, and it has great gift shops.  What’s not to love?  We saw everything and took the majority of our vacation pics that day…

Tags: Anaheim, California, convertible, Disneyland, fun, Los Angeles, San Diego, shopping, sunshine, zoo

Swords, hair removal and firemen – City Chase 2010 recap!

Another year down, another day of fun and mayhem on the streets of Vancouver, and now we have 365 days to recover for next year’s City Chase!   My legs have that kinda sore “you had a good workout” buzz, my feet are tired, I have turf burns on my knees and am missing a patch of hair from my right arm, and it was totally worthit.  It always is.  For those of you who didn’t read my blog from last year, shame on you.  Because of that I now have to explain again what the City Chase is (everyone always asks), so here’s the reader’s digest version: you and a teammate join 300-plus other teams, are given a clue sheet with a whole bunch of locations/tasks on it, and you have a maximum of 6 hours to get to and complete 10 of these challenges before racing back to the finish line.  How you do this and what order you do these challenges in is totally up to you, the only rule really is that you can only travel by foot or public transportation. Now that’s out of the way, here’s the annual awesome blow-by-blow recap of how we, Team Llamaface! completed the 2010 Vancouver City Chase.

If you saw a whole bunch of people in red jerseys, some with capes and one guy in a banana costume running around on Saturday, particularly around the start/finish line at Granville Square, that was us.  As one tourist commented, “I don’t think it’s the Gay Pride parade, but I’m not sure” which, of course, made us all cheer and high five her as we ran past.  It started right at 10am, when they told us to run to the Olympic torch.  We were off!  Adrenaline was pumping, excitement was swelling, and we still had no idea what the hell we were going to have to do.  At the torch we finally got our clue sheets and set about deciphering where we needed to go.  From advanced hints sent out via Facebook and Twitter on Friday night we knew that there was going to be something at Portside Park, so we decided to hop a bus right there and figure everything else out on the way.

Chasepoint #1 – 8 Legs or None

One team member had to reach into a big bowl of mealworms and wood chips and find a marble.  The colour of the marble determined what your teammate had to do.  I’m better with creepy crawly things than my teammate Eric, so we figured he would draw the marble, because whatever I had to do was undoubtedly going to be worse.  Yep, it was.  We drew the “mystery box”, which meant that I had to draw a number from a bowl and whatever number I drew was the number of Madagasgar hissing cockroaches I had to dig out of a box and put into a bowl.  I’ve actually held one of these things before (long story) and knew they were dry and harmless, so I just jumped in and was done before Eric had the chance to take my photo.  Nine to go.

Chasepoint #2 – Chasepoint #1

This isn’t as confusing as it looks, the Chasepoint was actually titled “Chasepoint #1″ but it was the second one we did that day, so it was our Chasepoint #2.  A clue we had received via Facebook a few days before the race (but we expected this, because this is the only Chasepoint they actually have every year) said that if we raised CAD$50.00 for Right to Play we would get a Chasepoint stamp that we could pick up at one of two places on the course.  Portside park was one of those two places, so fifteen minutes after the race started we had two of ten checked off.  Sweet.  Eight to go.

Chasepoint #3 – BOWLERAMA

The course this year was probably the most logically laid out of all seven years they have had a Vancouver City Chase, as 90% of the points followed the Canada Line Skytrain line, which is exactly what I had hoped for.  The plan was to hop on the train, go to the farthest away point and work our way back, since the finish line was right beside Waterfront Station. This also gave us more time in transit to plan the rest of our route, so we headed to Richmond.  The idea was to find the Richmond Lawn Bowling Club, which we, thanks to our phone-a-friend online at home, had the exact address to.  Well, we get there, are standing at that exact spot, and find… nothing.  It was a housing development.  After wandering around for twenty frustrating minutes, including asking a whole bunch of people, including other lost Chase teams, we decided to cut our losses and abort.  So we hopped back onto the train, pissed that we had spent all that time on the train for nothing.  Damn.

Chasepoint #3 (revised) Fling it Good

I work at Oakridge Mall, so when the clue said to get to the frisbee golf course at Queen Elizabeth Park, I was on my home turf.  We got off at the Oakridge stop (it was hard, but I resisted the urge to run into my office and say hi to my co-workers) and were soon there.  One team member had to try to get a frisbee into the goal in under four shots.  If they succeeded it was all good, but if it was four shots that meant the non-throwing team member had to have a strip of their arm hair waxed off.  Six or more shots they would loose an eyebrow.  Eric is a much better frisbee-er than I am, not to mention he’s go the arm hair of a shetland, so it was very clear right from the start he was going to throw.  The feeling of helplessly watching the fate of your body hair fly through the air was nerve, wracking let me tell you!  But a good first shot got him close and he was nearly done in three, but a missed “put” meant I was getting my arm waxed.  Poop.  That hurt.  How invented this process?  Medieval torturers?  Thankfully you still can’t really see the missing patch of hair, but the wax didn’t all come off my arm, and when I tried to peel it off all it did was make my hands sticky, so I had to complete the rest of the race with a two-inch square of orange wax on my arm. Seven to go.

Chasepoint #4 – The Wanderers

This one was conveniently located right beside the frisbee golf, so for once we didn’t have to worry about bus schedules or how far we had to walk.  Using high-tech orienteering gear (little beeper tags) and a map we had to navigate a portion of the park and clock in at 12 hidden checkpoints in order.  If we got the order wrong there was a penalty.  This one we made up some good time on, even passing some teams who were already on the course ahead of us.  I might not know my left from my right most days, but I can sure read a map   Four down, six to go.

Chasepoint #5 – Barefoot

This one required about 20 minutes of walking to go from Queen Elizabeth Park to Douglas Park, and we didn’t succeed in finding a bus, so our only option was to hoof it all the way.  By now we were tired, but our successes at Queen ElizabethPark had us invigorated.  We were in good shape.  This challenge was to be tied to your partner, three-legged-race style, and dribble a ball with your foot in a slalom pattern between wine bottles.  At each bottle you had to stop and pick up a glass of water and carry on a waiter’s tray, eventually making a pyramid 6 glasses high.  This was frustrating, damp, and my waxy arm kept sticking to Eric, but we did it, no worries.  As we were putting our shoes back on afterwards the announcement went out on the crew’s walkie-talkies that the first place team had crossed the finish line already.  Damn.  We were only half way there.  I don’t know how they did it… they must have run the whole thing or something.  Damn those uber athletic people!  But we were still in pretty good shape compared to most of the other teams we encountered along the way.  Five to go.

Chasepoint #6 – Blind Grams

Once again, this point was only a block away from the last, so we were there before we knew it and ready to rock.  One of us had to be blindfolded and go out into a field and retrieve seven puzzle pieces, directed by their partner’s voice, and then once all pieces were gathered we could remove the blindfold and both put it together in the shape of a swan.  We learned last year that Eric gives good directions (he actually does know his left from right, go figure), so I was blindfolded.  Besides, nobody would believe us if we said he was the better listener ;P !!! Retrieving the pieces was cake, and putting it together only took a bit longer.  Six down, four to go.

Chasepoint #7  Thumb-athalon

A quick five block walk brought us to the Rogers store at the corner of Oak adn 15th, where we both picked up blackberry smartphones.  We sere seperated, and Eric got a clue sheet with 6 questions on it, which he texted to me.  I had to run around the neighbourhood and find the answers, like what the cost of a shwarma plate was at the nearby flafal joint, or how much the transaction fee was at the ATM inside Esquires Coffee.  The questions were the easy part, but for a tech newbie like me, figuring out how to text/send pics back to Eric took 90% of the time!  All told, though, we powered through this and were soon on our way again.  Three to go.

Chasepoint #8  Local Heroes

Another short five minute walk got us to the plaza behind City Square mall, and a whole bunch of firemen.  Insert happy dance here.  When I wasn’t staring at the firemen we had to don firemen’s hats and jackets, drag a weighted dummy around a course, knock over a cone by spraying a firehose, unroll a full-length firehose and then roll it back up and carry it over a marked line.  This is actually the identaical chasepoint they had in East Vancouver last year, so Eric and I powered through this, already knowing exactly what to do.  Which was good, because it gave me more time to stare at the firemen.  Mmmm, firemen…. Two to go!

Chasepoint #9 – National Defense

This is where reading what the challenges are, not just if their location is convenient, is a good thing.  We didn’t do this.  I have a tendancy to never do this.  Hence the fact that last year Eric had to eat canned smoked oysters adn make this awesome gag/puke sound.  Still apologizing for that one.  A few blocks’ walk got us to Jonathan Rogers Park, just off Broadway, and it was only when we rounded the corner that we realized this was a military obsticle course.  Crap.  This is the type of chasepoint that the really athletic people do.  Like the Olympic Triatheletethat won in Montreal.  He would have been all over this.  We, on the other hand, actually went so far as to pull out the clue sheet, determine there really was nothing else remotely close to us and this fit so perfectly in our master plan, and resign ourselves to the fact that we had to do the freaking thing.   At this point in the day anything more than a strong walk took effort, so, like prisoners walking the green mile, we reluctantly reported for duty, Sir.  They smeared war paint on our faces and fitted us with 20-lb tactical vests and helmets, then our (incredibly nice – we lucked out) drill seargenthad us run up and down the embankment four times, then do 15 push ups and 15 sit ups.  Then came the belly crawl, which tore up the insides of my knees and got a really big wad of dead grass stuck to the wax blob on my arm.  Eric, exhausted and the last in line, cried “but I make video games!” as he put what effort he had left into the crawl.  Hilarious.  But we weren’t done.  That would have been too easy.  Run ten feet, drop to your belly, jump up and repeat the pattern 5 times.  Then, holding hands withanother team, run the lengthof the football field and back, ending with a scramble over a picnic table.  Suddenly I felt like a Survivor contestant, the slow one who gets dragged along by their teammates when they’re all tied together for a challenge.  Not good, but we were done.   One to go!

Chasepoint #10 – En Garde

After a few minutes to recover, it was back onto the Canada Line to Waterfront station and our last challenge of the day.  We had specifically worked it so that this point was our last: it was close to the finish line, we knew where it was without assistance, and I was not going home until I’d done the swordfighting chasepoint.  This is the third year they have had fencing/swordplay, and the first two I had missed because it just wasn’t logical to go all the way there on the route I was running.  This year, however, they had given us the clue the night before (in the form of a facebook-posted crossword I was frantically filling in at 11:30 pm) of Academie Duello, the fencing academy right downtown.  Perfect.  We could make our route specifically so this one was included.   So we crawled in, were fitted withfencing helmets, and I got on a wooden horse (can’t help but insert the Old Spice parody here: we now smell like the team you want your team to smell like, and I’m on a horse) holding a shield and six foot wooden spear.  Eric pushed the horse along a course and I had to spear 3 rings as we went.  Then off the horse, he had to do 15 diamond push ups while I fought off an attacker with a longsword.  SWEEEEEEEEEEEEET!  This wasn’t a play sword, either, it was ten pounds of ting!ting!ting! metal and a crazy guy swinging at my head.  Let me tell you, if it wasn’t for that helmet, I wouldn’t have a head, because his sword was bouncing off me like nobody’s business.  After that, to prove that torture is always fair, I had to do 15 burpies(I HATE BURPIES) while Eric defended himself with two metal shields against an equally crazy guy wielding two swords at his head.  Yay helmets.  We made it out barely alive, but we were done!

The finish line was only three blocks away, so we sprinted (read: walked until we knew the people holding the ribbon could see us then ran to make it look like we had energy left) across it.  Done!  Chased and conquered.  We were exhausted, happy, hadn’t fought all day, and thought we had done pretty good.  The official results were just posted today (if you’re not first you’re in the dark for a few days following the Chase, as it takes a few days for the judges to make sure everything is accurate ), and we finished in 98th place!  Out of 351 teams!  In seven years this is the first time I’ve ever broken the 100 mark, and we beat our record from last year by over a hundred teams.  High five!

All told it was awesome, fun, exhausting and I’m totally doing it again next year!

Tags: adventure, City Chase, crazy, fun, The Amazing Race, vancouver

Come to Vancouver – we have the best weather!

               Ahh, summer in Vancouver.   Perfect days with a rare cloud punctuating the pure blue sky, a gentle breeze coming in off the ocean, the majestic mountains surrounding us in a comforting hug, and the sun glinting off the glass skyscrapers of the downtown core.  Damn, right it’s the best place on earth.  And you should all drop what you’re doing and come now.  Immediately.  Vancouver wants you.  We have perfect weather, so take advantage of it before stock runs out! 

                Summer finally arrived at the end of June, after the longest winter on record.  Well, technically winter was exactly the same length as every year, but this year it felt like we skipped spring entirely.  But once summer dawned, it hasn’t let up one bit.  We’ve now had nearly a month straight of “coat?  I don’t even need socks in this weather” weather, and I’m loving every second of it.  Life should operate at this temperature every day.  I guess it does in LA, but here we don’t need to deal with nearly as much traffic, garbage, smog, noise…  you get the point.  As much as I appreciate (and boy do I appreciate) the chance to finally thaw, this weather also shows off Vancouver at its best, and everyone needs to take full advantage of it. 

               Right now we’re in the midst of the Symphony of Fire fireworks competition for four consecutive Wednesday and Saturday nights, which floods the shores of false creek with thousands of “ooooh”ers and “aaaah”ers.  Soon we’ll have the Dragon Boat festival, too.  We actually don’t have a deep pool of festivals and events, but the attractions we have year-round are pretty damn spectacular, and when you see them in this fantabulous weather, they’re even better.  You can immerse yourself in the native culture of the pacific coast at the UBC Museum of Anthropology and then get your nekked on at Wreck Beach; shop Robson Street’s trendiness and then finish off the day at a waterfront cafe on False Creek; bike Stanley Park’s seawall, feed the squirrels and enormous raccoons, then visit one of the best Aquariums around to splash with the belugas and dolphins.  A few weeks ago I did the bike thing for the first time since I was like 6 and it was great.  It’s a really smooth, relaxing ride, and a 2 hour bike rental from Spokes on Denman only cost CAD$10.00!    And regardless of what you do, remember to snag a funky twist on lunch at the world-famous Japadog gourmet Japanese hot dog cart.  Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

          But honestly, I’m here in the best place on earth, and I cannot recommend strongly enough that you should be too.  What are you waiting for, people?  We have sun!!!!

Tags: aquarium, best, bikes, BlogSherpa, Canada, fantastic, fireworks, fun, Japadog, Stanley Park, sun, vancouver, weather

More Travel Porn – Chefs Vs City

        So I’ve discovered a new fun armchair travel addiction, this time on the Food Network of all places:  Chefs vs City.  It’s a great way to combine two of my favorite things – The Amazing Race and the Food Network, with teams of 2 foodies racing through one city a week completing 4 different food-related challenges.  Sometimes it involves eating a large amount of something (in Las Vegas they actually had to eat one of everything from the Bellagio’s buffet), cooking/creating something (stomping grapes/decorating a 50-lb cake/making liquid-nitrogen ice cream) or stomaching something difficult (scorching chili in LA), but it’s a great way to see what culinary treasures each city has to offer.  Plus it’s exciting and competitive.  But mainly its an interesting food travelogue.  I mean, who knew there was a place in Chicago where you can eat all sorts of edible, flavoured paper?  Check this one out.

Tags: armchair travel, Chefs vs City, daydreaming, fun, travel porn, TV