Day 47. Tuesday 4 October.
Rain overnight, although not heavy, but enough to defer a trip on one of the gondolas to see the sights from on high: much to D’s relief. Gastown, the original hub of Vancouver, beckoned. After its golden years it had deteriorated into a ‘skid row’ but shop owners, residents, the authorities and other concerned citizens worked to resurrect its past glory. That has certainly worked, and it is now a very stylish/hip part of town, although there were plenty of beggars and homeless on the streets further along to the east.
A few minor, personal successes. T found some fabric she’d been chasing across North America and D had a haircut. Looks good, doesn’t he? The barber took liberties: persuading D that he’d look younger if his locks moved in the opposite direction (after 60+years, really?) When he emerged, T couldn’t work out what made him look different, (sophisticated, she said), so D revealed and the barber wanted feedback. Let’s see how old habits go….
These establishments were everywhere. were warned at one stage not to go further east than Carrell Street – that was the dividing line to the dangerous part of town. Needless to say, we inadvertently did, but were not threatened in any way, nor felt any danger. But we did see encampments literally – in several places, where tents and makeshift accommodations had been set up.
And, in the distance, a hotel sign caught the sophisticated D’s eye.
And we did see Gastown’s famous Steam Clock – and waited for the quarter hour chime, that sounded just like the trains that had seemed to follow us around our motorhome tour!
I wonder which side it will be when you get home?
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Middle?
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