We started by walking Hannah to work before swinging by what should be the nearest coffee shop to our new apartment. It's called the Blue Tree, and I'd hoped that sharing 50% of its name with Blue Bottle would be a good sign. I don't need to tell you the outcome.
At the airport we found that Hannah and I were seated separately on the full plane. We asked at the gate if we could change that. "Of course!" said yet another nice Canadian lady behind the desk. "No one wants to sit next to a screaming child for two hours!" "On second thoughts, leave me where I am," I quickly replied.
But the flight was fine, and a long drive in Friday night Bay Area rush hour traffic made me pine for Vancouver. I have no loyalty! The driver said that it would be a little cool this weekend, with temperatures hovering in the mid-70s. Cool!? I silently scoffed, then realised I had nothing to laugh about. We're only going to be here for another week so I've blocked out seven days of staring at the sun. Then I can accurately describe it to Pete when he's older.
Blue Tree Cafe's vague impression of a cappuccino. It didn't taste too bad, but I'm sure I don't have to point out the structural issues to regular readers.
Our corner shop! All the staples.
It's all about the hockey. Ice hockey, that is, although, as with American football, you have to drop the first word if you want to seem like a local.
A final taste of Canada, with a pint of Molson Canadian which is brewed right here in Vancouver. It's quite like Budweiser, but Canadian, so nicer.
Sell-outs!
