Vancouver, Part 1

After not traveling much at all for work the last couple of years, this spring is packed with three international trips, two for the office and one for Journeys. I know -- lucky girl!

First up, Vancouver. Land where the snow-covered mountains meets the sandy beach. I fell in love with Vancouver seventeen years ago and had been eager to return. Life being what it is, this trip was very different, and I was keen to revisit this city so important to my past and build some new memories. Being Vancouver, it didn't disappoint. 

I was here for the office, part of the project I've been working on with two First Nations communities from Québec province. The Canadian museum partner was hosting this meeting and providing these communities a chance to meet and talk with sister First Nations in British Columbia. I was thrilled to be along for the ride. This photo essay covers the weekend I spent wandering the city and reclaiming it.

Breathtakingly beautiful. I adored Vancouver then; I adore it now.

 I'm having a heron-kind of month. Just up the street from the hotel was a great blue heron rookery. Upwards of forty nests -- I'd never seen so many herons on one place before. I spent a bit of every day watching them build nests.

 In the mornings I'd walk along the beach. I never tire of listening to the waves and seeing the mountains.

 The lovely Sylvia Hotel. Kudos to my MOA/UBC colleagues for the recommendation! It's not the most glamorous, but it's incredibly charming and the location couldn't be better. On the water, two blocks from Stanley Park. Perfect!

 This large inukshuk graces the beach. Inukshuk are traditional way finders and protectors in the Arctic.

 Everything was blooming -- tulips, cherries, and azalea. The city was ablaze with color.

 Giant cedars in Stanley Park. I wished I'd had more time to really wander there. Days could be spent exploring all the paths. Really.

 Before I knew about the rookery, I'd seen this fellow my first evening and thought myself very lucky indeed.

 The Olympic flame. It's not lit now, of course, but it's still an attraction. It's supposed to look like ice. It does a pretty good job.

 Float planes are common in the Pacific Northwest. I'm intrigued and frightened both. I've been in planes this small, after all..... 

 Back to Gastown, where the famous clock still stands and lets out its quarterly chimes, although not quite on the quarter-hour. The area has had extensive development. Most of the city I didn't actually recognize, and even those parts that I did were very different.

When my Field Museum colleagues got in we hit the trails in Stanley Park. We didn't get very far because we were too entranced by all the wildlife we kept encountering. I've never thought much about ducks, but she was pretty.

My last free night I spent catching up with one of my Vietnam Field School classmates, whom I haven't seen since we parted ways in Hanoi. What fun! She's as lovely as I remember, and we had a wonderful time exchanging news and remembering why we'd had such a good time together in the first place. Ah Vancouver.