I thought about this as we wandered around the beautiful Dr Sun-Yat Sen Classical Chinese Garden here in downtown Vancouver. The guide waxed lyrically and knowledgeably about yin and yang, symbolic meanings, flows of energy, etc. despite admitting she'd never been to China. I wondered what someone who actually owns a Chinese garden would think. Probably how much weeding the place must need.
We continued our cultural adventures by visiting The Fat Badger for dinner on my parents' final evening. It's a newly-opened pub - it used to be called "La Gavroche" but the universal truth that British food is better than French won them over. There's a British chef, and a British music mix playing (Arctic Monkeys followed by Phil Collins is a bit jarring), and a large photo from the film Trainspotting on the wall. Presumably that will be taken down if Scotland votes to become un-British on Thursday.
Dad and I enjoyed authentically delicious plates of fish and chips, washed down with a Canadian rosé, and I wondered: where does home start and finish? That's the kind of question I need the peace and sanctity of a Chinese garden to contemplate, before eating Texas barbecue washed down with Danish beer followed by Guatemalan coffee in an Italian-themed Vancouver cafe...
Ahh, ultimate peace...
...so quickly and cruelly taken away!
This is an example of penjing, the Chinese form of bonsai but more concerned with wild naturalness. The real genius is it doesn't have to involve trees! After a short and troubled history of bonsai massacre, even I could manage to look after one of these.
Balanced family.
How Mum retains her balance.
Just like at The Red Lion in Woolverton.
Pete's tastes, and manners, remain firmly British.
