Let the Wind Carry Me

I continued on into Canada and got caught up in some rush hour traffic, but eventually found my way to downtown Vancouver. I drove over the Granville bridge and had a glimpse of one of Vancouver's many skylines. There were mountains in the distance and mirrored skyscrapers shimmered in dusky sunlight that poked through the clouds. I was excited to explore and get to know a big and lively city.

As I got closer to the hostel, I noticed a lot of rainbow flags- Vancouver's gay district. The main street was full of cute little restaurants, bars and shops. After a couple wrong turns, I finally spotted the hostel. I parked in a permit-only spot and then ran inside to the hostel to figure out where I could leave the car. They told me that there should be space in their little garage underneath the building. There was and I was able to park my friend's car there for the duration of my stay.

I went to check in and they had no record of the reservation I had made the previous night. But they still had four female spots left so I was fine. I went ahead and booked a second night because I had decided at first glance that I liked Vancouver a lot. In the hostel, I immediately recognized an energy I had been missing since last year in Southeast Asia, a vibrant and restless energy that typically emanates from a large gathering of travelers.

I went up to my room where one roommate was hanging out. We introduced ourselves. She was from England and seemed to be in her late 30s or early 40s. Her mannerisms were more than a little odd. When I asked her how long she'd been in Vancouver, she said, "awhile." I didn't get a sense of what she was up to, but she seemed like she had been traveling solo for long time. I think traveling solo affects each person differently. Some become more outgoing and open and friendly to attract people. Some seem to become more closed off, maybe to protect themselves or because they know that they will constantly be parting ways with people shortly after they meet them.

Someone had taken the bottom bunk that had been assigned to me, so I made my bed on the top bunk and went out to get dinner. I walked a block to Davie Street, the main thoroughfare in the neighborhood. I was drawn to a little Vietnamese place. Most of the people inside appeared to be 1st or 2nd generation Vietnamese and regular patrons. A table opened up just as I walked in. I was seated and the waiter brought me some green tea which was exactly what I needed at that moment. I ordered a Vietnamese sandwich and it was delicious. Customer service in Vancouver is excellent. Salespeople are friendly without a hint of fakeness or pushiness. They make you feel like they care whether or not you enjoy yourself and whatever they are selling.

After wandering around Davie Street a bit, I headed back to the hostel where I met another roommate. She was a Japanese woman who was living and working in Alberta for a year and on a weekend trip to Vancouver. The other roommate (the bottom bunk stealer!) came in shortly after. She was from France and had just arrived in Vancouver to begin working for eleven months.

Luckily, my other roommates wanted to go to bed early. I was exhausted. The drive had been longer and more tiring (because of border and rush hour traffic) than I had expected and the previous two nights had been fairly sleepless. I definitely had to readjust to unfamiliar noises and the budget travel thing-- old mattress surfing, loveseat surfing, and then hostelling. But despite the lack of sleep, internally I felt energized after driving through new places, getting off the beaten path, and reimmersing myself in the backpacking culture even if it was just for two nights and I didn't have a backpack!