6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 19th - 25th Dec 2011

19th Dec
  • Wandered around Leederville highstreet; small, sweet and eclectic.
  • Bookstore, many restaurants from around the world, cafes, nightclubs, bars and a subway, essentially make it up. Overwhelmed, I hole myself in Greens and Co. and watch the world go by.
Day's Verdict: Just A Day.


20th Dec
  • Awesome, Zambrero, Burrito!
  • and... watched Notting Hill, seeing as it was nearing Christmas and all.
Day's Verdict: Loving.


21st Dec
  • Bad mood day.
  • Super-tasty home-made ribs (cooked in water for 3 hours) and much beer.
Day's Verdict: Bad to Good.


22nd Dec
  • An evening of drinking games, err... not sure on the rules now.
Day's Verdict: err...


23rd Dec
  • 25 mile bike ride on my BMX from Leederville, to City Beach, down to Cottesloe, through to Claremont (rich people's area where everyone has a yacht) along the river into Perth city and back to Leederville.
  • An evening of gambling with some casual poker.
Day's Verdict: Knackering


24th Dec
  • Christmas Eve.
  • Spent the night at a friend's house having festive beer and pizza
Day's Verdict: Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells...


25th Dec
  • Christmas Day
  • Head across city to a friend's house to have a traditional Christmas meal with their family where so much ham was consumed.
  • Afternoon with the family pool volleyball contest, our team won.
  • Much booze and fun ensued and somehow finished the night in a drug den... not sure how that happened
Day's Verdict: ...Jingle all the way!

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 12th - 18th Dec 2011

12th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


13th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


14th Dec
  • A friend does dance and was involved in a 'doing it for the fun of it' type of show, heavily involving (around 100%) burlesque dancing, "reluctantly" going along for moral support, turned out to be a great night of girls wearing very little dancing on stage, who would've thought.
  • It was amusing, cheesy and tasteful.
Day's Verdict: Corset.


15th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


16th Dec
  • Work drinks to blow out some steam and there was a lot of steam to be blown out. Thankfully, sambuca and tequila helped with that tremendously.
Day's Verdict: No... you're drink!


17th Dec
  • Paddleboarding, amazing amazing times to be had, as always.
Day's Verdict: Not wet.


18th Dec
  • Day at City Beach doing beach-like relaxing and swimming
  • Evening, went to the cinema to watch The Inbetweeners Movie
Day's Verdict: Was OK.

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 5th - 11th Dec 2011

5th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


6th Dec
  • Amazing thunderstorm crawled over Perth, with as much vicious force as the apocalypse, giant flashes of lightning would rip through my blinds, instantly waking me up. I'd run to the window to watch these low lying murky clouds carrying hell towards me, as lashings of golf ball sized rain drops pelt the roof, I spent the next 45 minutes (was about 3AM) being awed by nature.
Day's Verdict: BOOM!


7th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


8th Dec
  • Low key Champagne Thursday, Greek themed with small dishes of this-and-that scattered everywhere for people to gulp.
Day's Verdict: Hic.


9th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


10th Dec
  • Paddleboarding! First time I've been paddleboard since Vancouver and I'd missed it a lot.
  • In Perth paddleboarding is different, Instead of sea, you have a river. Instead of seals you have fish. Instead of boats, you have windsurfers. Instead of mountains you have open sky. Instead of a high concentration of a 100 or so skyscrapers, you have 3... very far away.
  • Evening brought a christmas houseparty, typical affair of drinking, chatting, kitchen mingling, drinking, yada, yada, yada.
Day's Verdict: Great then good.


11th Dec
  • Cleaned the entire house after the party and went out Christmas shopping
Day's Verdict: Standard

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 28th Nov - 4th Dec 2011

28th Nov
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


29th Nov
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


30th Nov
  • Take away from Zambrero, an amazing Mexican restaurant, it's not authentic but it's fresh, healthy and... fucking tasty. Every one of their burritos gets better than the last and I could quite happily give up on all other foods if I could have one of these every day, forever.
Day's Verdict: Awesome.


1st Dec
  • Start of a new occasional morning routine, a quick trip to City Beach for a run along the sand and a swim in the ocean, all the meanwhile avoiding playful dogs and friendly passer-bys wishing you a good morning.
  • Evening, having a Champagne Thursday, fine dining at Clancy's fishbar, enjoying delicious seafood platter and champagne (of course) topped off with a rich dessert, all the while watching the sunset.
Day's Verdict: Ahhh!


2nd Dec
  • Happy hour cocktails at Havana's in East Perth before going home for some freshly cooked home-made fajitas.
Day's Verdict: Foreign.


3rd Dec
  • First Aussie BBQ Party at someone's house to celebrate some significant event with the host's lives, main thing was the BBQ, and the beer on tap, and the BBQ, also the swimming pool.
  • A massive zucchini was also being thrown around like an American football.
Day's Verdict: Fun.


4th Dec
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 21th - 27th Nov 2011

21st Nov
  • Forced to watch a film about vampires and werewolves.
Day's Verdict: Utterly shit.


22nd Nov
  • I cooked (I never cook) roasted vegetables stuffed in a pepper (or capsicum, as they like to call it here for some unknown reason.)
Day's Verdict: Tasty.


23rd Nov
  • Went down to Cottesloe Beach, Perth's famous beach, it's lively and full of kids that have just discovered public transport for the first time.
  • Ate fish and chips overlooking a floodlit beach.
Day's Verdict: Fishy.


24th Nov
  • A new celebration that got invented as a joke, but somehow came into fruition 'Champagne Thursday', the idea as the name suggests, quaffs of champagne is consumed while the gorging of cheese and crackers is also undertaken.
Day's Verdict: Bloody awesome.


25th Nov
  • Happy Hour at a bar in East Perth called, Havana. Where the job of $5 cocktails is worked hard at by the office.
  • With the mood of 'being a bit drunk' is being felt, Little Caesars Pizza (a restaurant in Leederville that's always busy for some unknown reason, because it really isn't that great) was inhaled.
Day's Verdict: Happy Days.


26th Nov
  • A day at Cottesloe beach! Nope, was too windy and it felt like being sand blasted.
  • Plan of retreat was head to Fremantle for an average lunch with above-average entertainment.
  • A extremely crazy angry drunken man, was stumbling around the road, being aggressive at passer-bys, cafe patrons and spontaneously stopping traffic with his body. Enduring this for a short while the police came along and bundled him in the back of the van where the modest cheers could be heard all around.
  • A mid-afternoon drink at Little Creatures, relaxing in the sun overlooking the harbour before driving to a friend's house far far away that night for poker night.
Day's Verdict: Adventurous enjoyment.


27th Nov
  • Awaking bleary eyed to a tasty breakfast of poached eggs with rocket on toast.
  • Afternoon was spent in a coffee shop called Greens and Co. (My soon-to-be local haunt, full of self-important people that hate everything, drinking small expensive tasteless coffees served by people that wished you were dead.)
  • Taking a walk around Monger Lake (Big lake, full of birds)
Day's Verdict: Nice.

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 14th - 20th Nov 2011

14th Nov
  • Started my new job!
Day's Verdict: Work's work.


15th Nov
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


16th Nov
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


17th Nov
  • R and R.
Day's Verdict: Nothing of interest happened.


18th Nov
  • A few post work drinks at The Royal before watching I Love You, Man. on the DVD.
Day's Verdict: The most interesting thing to happen this week.


19th Nov
  • Early morning start and hop on a bus to City Beach (My local beach, a quiet, friendly and clean. Not much brouhaha is made of beaches in Perth in the way of restaurants and bars overlooking the water.)
  • Usual beach nonsense is undertaken, such as being dunked and drowned by (normally unusual) massive onshore waves resulting in friend losing his glasses in the drink, what a knob.
  • Evening drinks at The Brisbane Hotel (One of the more modern popular place with the old kids) before setting off to the NiB Stadium to watch Kings of Leon.
Day's Verdict: Pretty God-damn good!


20th Nov
  • Breakfast somewhere fun, I imagine, as there must've been a reason for me remembering the significance of having breakfast but can't of been any good as I don't remember that much about it.
  • Trip to City Beach again, more beach stuff.
  • After a trip to the beach with friends, you (the royal you) always get this unusual hankering for ham rolls, we head to a friend's house to satisfy these desires and play in their pool.
  • Evening spent wondering what meal should be consumed before giving up and having nothing.
Day's Verdict: Lively day. Lazy night.

6 Months in Perth: Abridged. | 11th - 13th Nov 2011

11th Nov
  • Arrive into Perth's shitty airport after a horrific red-eye flight from Hong Kong (The usual; screaming babies, seat neighbour having halitosis, rock hard seat and getting no sleep.)
  • Get to my house in Leederville, (Living with new workmates, it's nice) and sleep for a few hours before I get summoned to hang out and drink with work colleagues.
  • We meet at The Royal, East Perth. A busy post-work bar/restaurant overlooking Claisebrook Cove. A trip into Perth City to rooftop bar The Conservatory (can't remember it, except for wooden floors and benches) before ending the night at The Garden in Leederville.
Day's Verdict: Tiring, unexpected big night.


12th Nov
  • Picked up early(ish) morning to be driven around and shown the sights and sounds of Perth, seeing beaches, coastline, sand and sea, driving around suburbs and down into Fremantle.
  • Lunch was eaten at a brewery owned restaurant called Little Creatures, was good.
  • Wandered around Fremantle, a touristy, backpackery, buzzy place that has the essence of being a bit pretentious and hates change.
  • Afternoon drinks back at the Garden in Leederville before having a massive houseparty, consisting of 4 people.
Day's Verdict: Chilled but filled.


13th Nov
  • Hungover, nothing happened.
  • Evening spent having a Sunday session AKA Sunday night drinks at the Garden (again!)
Day's Verdict: Tired, oh so tired.

Facing My Fear in Hong Kong | 6th - 10th November 2011

Before I can start my new life in Perth, Australia, I absolutely must make a stop somewhere...

I'm about to embark to a place, that ever since 2006, has induced the emotion that, when mentioned, would conjure up feelings within me of a black hole fear, one that is mixed with mild hatred and dark feelings of annoyance which, for being one of the most safest cities in the world, seems a bit illogical and borderline dumb.

That fateful visit that caused me so much pain over the years, started out as a simple weekend stopover from a month's return trip away to New Zealand.

Landing and descending into a cheap hotel by my trip bookers over in North Point, which is over to the east. I was placed somewhere that was massive contrast to the whole of New Zealand, with towering concrete highrises and glass soaked skyscrapers with millions of people squashed into a small space going about their daily business, I found it infectiously electrifying and terrifying and couldn't wait to explore, but it had to wait as I arrived at night.

Next morning, I hadn't really looked at a map nor do any research on the place, because I was only there for a few days and being a slackpackers, I prefer to let things wash over me as I meander through the streets, looking at everything in awe and wonderment as I try to avoid other tourists and travellers.

Unusually for a slackpacker, I did take one precautionary measure which as I found this place, slightly intimidating at first sight, I decided to put some money in my sock, which I had never done before nor ever thought about doing and off I went.

I can't remember the exact route I took, but I do remember it being an overcast light grey cloud day, and taking the waterfront path by the convention centre, that was specially built in 1997 for United Kingdom's handover of Hong Kong to the Chinese. I passed a Buddha asking for a donation, panicking, I grab a HK10 note and give it to him only to be met with a “really, this is all you have look?”, apologising I say that's all I can give you and he passes me this gold card with an inscription in Chinese that I don't understand. I felt slightly guilty as I realise I only gave him 5 pence, it washes over me and I walk ahead to the pier and grab a boat to Kowloon.

Again letting the stink and filth of the Kowloon streets glide underfoot as I was deciding whether I could really afford a brand new digital camera, freshly packed into the shop from the back of a lorry, I enter surroundings that is a bit more civilised as the chance of catching a sub-tropical disease from a 6 foot mosquito dramatically falls, as I stroll onto Nathan Road, looking at a sign that say Park Lane and spot some random steps leading to nowhere; intriguingly exciting!

Oh wow, a wonderful lush parkland, well actually; from memory it was a concrete expanse interrupted by low lying patchwork of green hedges, with people milling busily trying to relax and enjoy some fresh air.

As this was my real first travel experience alone and I had bravely fought New Zealand all by myself, like the adult I was then, I was now a fully-fledged citizen of the world and therefore everyone within it is now my friend.

Not getting far into the park before a smiling friendly man on a bench begins talking to me in broken English about Asia, buildings or something-or-rather, I'm not really sure to be honest; a fair few minutes passed of having this half way conversation and I decide it's time for me to leave and get on with some more exploring, I turn to the guy to say in a 'goodbye its been fun' kind of way, “goodbye its been fun”.

Then, a friendly girl then approaches me from behind and in English that wasn't broken and I finally understood tells me in a calm fashion to go with them while discreetly pushing a knife in my back and with no superpowers or skills of an action hero, I do.

The bench man, knife girl lead me onto a white double decker bus and we take a ride to some random district in Hong Kong, from where I can tell have a high concentration of jewellery stores. We approach one of these stores at random and the girl told me to lead the way to the counter, the man at this point waited outside in case, presumably, I decided to make a run for it.

The girl and I sat down by the counter and greeted by smiling and helpful shop assistant. The girl pretended to be my annoyingly affectionate wife and began picking out all these gold items, which I would then have to try on to approve the purchase with my card to give the impression they were “meant” to be for me.

We entered a few more stores, repeating the process buying; rings, necklaces, bracelets, tiaras and anything else for me, the whole ordeal latest a few hours as my card and self-confidence was taking a beating.

Night time loomed over a bright Hong Kong, when they decided they were happy with their all newly acquired booty and they kindly thanked me for the gold and seeing as my generosity knows no bounds and seeing as they asked for it, I also gave them my wallet.

First day in Hong Kong and I lose a day of exploring, around £4,000, my wallet and am now stuck in this random district without knowing a thing about anything. I was feeling that low deep disgusting feeling in the pit of your stomach that life is well and truly over, the end.

It then dawned on me, I had taken that precautionary measure earlier that day and hoped it would be enough for me to get a taxi home. Thankfully it was and I retreat to my hotel room and do nothing, think nothing, there's tears, angry, bemusement, and the feeling of just being an empty hell of despair. I wanted nothing more at that point than to leave and never come back.

The rest of the weekend was spent in a haze in s hopping mall, being surrounded by people and security, I have never found shopping so interesting in all my life.


It is now 2011. Since my visit to Hong Kong; my sister moved out there around 5 years ago and as a result of my first visit, I have missed many exciting adventures to the island and surrounding areas with my family who have been out there frequently, to see the sights and sounds; you know the type of trip, the ones that define the very connections between you closest people to you in the world and that brings a family together.

Circumstances have placed me in a position where through no real choice of my own, that I am going to Hong Kong and it is now the right time for me to face my handicap and revisit the black hole fear.

With support from my sister who made sure that airport connections were clearly explained to me and that everything was going to be just fine, I was able to sleep and rest for all the flight up until getting into her apartment.

Arriving into somewhere so strange, manic and unusual, I instantly felt safe. I'm in no way feeling apprehensive, on edge or fearing for my life, but the thing is, I don't think I have ever felt this so strongly about a city, than I have in Hong Kong. Which given my history, is slightly bizarre.

I won't go into great detail about my itinerary, but it involved great food, drinking, sightless peak top views, very successful horse racing, beaches, markets, family history historic important churches, hiking in the near-wilderness with evil looking disgusting spiders the size of London Eye that would love nothing more than to jump on my face and suck my brains out.

It was early morning on my first full day and I really want to do is get this fear faced, so it will no longer loom over me like an evil looking disgusting spiders the size of London Eye that would love nothing more than to jump on my face and suck my brains out.

Being Caucasian in an predominantly Asian city, people tend to look at you with a 'You're not from here' face on them which ordinarily, I don't care about in the slightest but seeing as today was the day, I was already feeling slightly on edge, my trip back over to Kowloon was more sense-heightened than usual, as it was extremely busy and my paranoid imagination running wild with all these looks.

It wasn't until I reached the exit steps to 'Kowloon Park' that it really hit me what I was about to do, everything fell silent and there no one here taking the same exit as me. I look up at sky from the bottom of the stairs and it is even the same light grey it was that fateful day and with every step up towards street level, my nerves and heartbeat heighten up that little bit more. I'm getting nervous now.

Walking along Nathan Road, all I want to do now is alleviate this sense of adrenaline and dread, to help I take the steps up into the park.

I am now in the belly of the beast, this is odd, for so many years of mind-consuming thought and fear given to this place, I am now here, I am now ready to have this lifted off my shoulders.

I cautiously walk around the Nathan Road side of the park, as that's where I was stolen, looking for that special area where it all took place, it's hard as everything looks so different now, in fact if I didn't have such awful memories of this place, I would think this is a really pretty public park.

Walking around, it's unusually empty and no one is here but I find the place, I think, I'm fairly annoyed at myself as for something so poignant to happen to my life, I wanted to be able to remember more, but I guess forgetting and blanking is apart of self-preservation.

I stare at this place, a low lying manicured bush area, that resembles a maze for midget and I look at the area, they've changed the benches, it's a lot bigger, greener and mature than I remember, it's unfamiliar but I'm certain.

Soaking up the eerie atmosphere, I wanted to feel that sudden explosion of memories that would flood back in as a final bang to destroy the fear once and for all, but it doesn't happen. I feel I have left it too long to face up and fight it to get that satisfaction of instant relief.

I leave the park somewhat disappointed by my experience, mainly at myself for not being brave enough sooner, but thankfully I don't leave fully discontented, as I do feel better and a weight has lifted off my shoulders.

As I walk away from the park back to the waterfront, uncontrollably, I'm holding back my happiness. I find myself mourning for my dark companion, but it has been apart of me for so long that I now miss it and its terrorising nature.

This mourning soon dissipates and, without sounding over the top, this satisfying sense that something has raised from everywhere around you, finally gone from my mind and shoulders, the troubles of my world have been thrown out into the ether. I'm so glad its gone, I feel great.

Thank you and goodbye | 5th October 2011 | 13:33 PDT

The big dreams
The curious stories
The breathtaking scenery
The (more or less) sunny weather
The interesting strangers
Their fascinating stories
The brilliant friends
Their big dreams
and all the other things

To everyone for reading, enjoying, sticking by, supporting, stranging, befriending and making what has been an unforgettable six months, a massive massive thank you.... And with that, my incredible adventure is now over. It's been emotional.

That's It, That's All, That's All There Is.

Sayonara Vancouver | 5th October 2011 | 13:22 PDT

Just coming back from the most incredible and atmospheric paddleboarding session, glising along the mirror-like English Bay looking from Burrard Bridge, Downtown and it's almost perfect reflection, the West End, the autumn coloured Stanley Park, North Shore and mountains being hugged by low cloud.


Looking back at my experience in Vancouver, it's a weird place, where hostility and friendliness happily reside side by side, it's an easy place to create amazing friendships and yet an easy place to lose your faith in humanity and manners;
As the saying goes: Smile at the world and the world smiles at you back
In Vancouver it's: Smile at the world and the world slams a door in your face
And after a while it's: Smile at the world and the world slams a door in your face and your friends will laugh at you.

As a city, I didn't like Vancouver it's flaws are easy to see being such a young city and it's a place that is being run by clumsy council that wouldn't be able to run a fishing village, let alone a village. Saying that, it's in it's teenage years that is still in its definition stages and I feel like it's hanging on a knife's edge at all times, mainly with the internal battle and friction that is being caused by the original citizens keeping the “vibe” and the new forward thinking citizens using it as their own personal Grand Theft Auto playground. Same old shit then.

G.T.EH: Vancouver

Ignoring the boring unimportant politics, I really admire Vancouver, you walk around and you talk to people, and they're so proud about where they live and just seeing their enthusiasm and glee on their faces as they describe how how much contentment that area has brought them, but that's where my frustration comes in; contentment. Everything's pleasant and everyone is content, which is by far not a bad thing whatsoever and reaching this contentment is gained at an exponential rate, but breaking that roof to go further, is almost impossible.

It boils down to, if you're in a place that all you have to worry about whether you're going up a mountain or down to the beach and on your way home you have to cross the street to avoid a skunk, it really can't be all that bad.

I enjoyed my time here and wouldn't change any the unique sights and sounds I have witnessed and I am extremely sad to leave the lifestyle behind where everything is all about being creative, being outdoors and the relaxed atmosphere, but it also feels right to go now.

Which is what I must do

This is going to be a long paddle home.

Who's this guy? | 4th October 2011 | 17:24 PDT

I'm on the last walk around Downtown, the clouds are low, the rain is lethargic, the buildings are monochrome, cars are slow, people are quiet, nothing is happening, This cite has seemed to have committed suicide leaving its shell like a turtle turning itself into soup.

Either, my mood has some awesome power over everyone and everything to make a visual soundtrack or the weather is making me feel... a bit glum. Either way, Vancouver does have one shining pearl of enlightenment up its sleeve to share with me as I arrive to the new plaza at the recently renovated BC Place Stadium.

I'm looking at these 4 bronze statues of what appears to be some bloke running a bit weird, his face looks like he's struggling and focused and with a tshirt he's wearing that says “Marathon” I can understand why his face looked like that. It took me around 7 minutes of admiring the tribute for my eyes to tell my brain that his right leg differed from his left.

His right leg was a prosthetic – not an actual prosthetic leg as this statue is intended to last a thousand years and his real prosthetic leg wasn't bronze as that's less than ideal for running a marathon with, just a bronzed representation of what his leg looked like.

(via hellovancity.com)

This man is actually a boy, he is a Canadian icon, he is an international hero, he was hugely ambitious, he led a truly determined but saddening life. An inspiration for all. I introduce to you, Terrance Stanley “Terry” Fox.

Fox was an avid and successful high school athlete, when at 19 years old in 1977 he was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer in his right knee which resulted in him having to have his right leg amputated; during this traumatic episode in his life he learnt the positive effects cancer research and funding was having with his condition, his chances of survival being raised to 50% from 15% in just 2 years; Athleticism ran through his veins and found success with wheelchair basketball with thanks to his competitive, dedicated and stubborn nature, Fox had bigger a challenge in his sights.

While in hospital, Fox read about Dick Traum, the amputee to complete the New York marathon; this inspired him to come up with The Marathon of Hope, his idea was that he would raise 1 dollar for every person in Canada (24 million, at the time) by running a 26 mile marathon everyday for 5000 miles across Canada from St. Johns, Newfoundland to Victoria, British Columbia.

In April 1980, after gained sponsorship from Ford, Adidas and Imperial Oil, he dipped his right leg in the Atlantic and set off west; with every step, through every town over summer his aware to the cause gained momentum and captured the nation's imagination and became a national icon.

In September 1980, 143 later from when he started, Fox suffered from chest pains and was unable to continue his run; worried, he rushed to hospital. The next day he held a press conference, with tears and great regret he shared the news of his hospital tests results saying, his cancer had spread to his lungs. The Marathon of Hope had come to a premature end and by December 1980, he had disappeared from public view and in June 1981, Terry Fox passed away.

Though he was gone from the public view, he was not forgotten; He received an overwhelming public response, in the 7 months he was absent from the public eye people from around the world were hearing of his achievements and donating from far and wide, letters with “Terry Fox, Canada” were being successfully delivered, by April 1981 over $23 million had been raised; it didn't stop there as it has gained more momentum over the years; a Terry Fox Run is held every year, involving millions of people in over 50 countries and has raised half a billion dollars in his name so far.

(via wikipedia.org)

The most curious part of the Terry Fox plaza is a small written piece by Vancouver resident Douglas Coupland called “What If?” it goes into detail about, what if Terry had changed his mind to do the Marathon of Hope and decided not to go ahead with it; He might not have had a relapse and gone on with his life to get a job, get married and raise a family; he himself might have wondered for the rest of his life, “What If?”.

Coupland continues to say; the world, weather and its people would just be the same and carry on doing its thing, everything would be the same and yet the way life is viewed by us after learning his incredible story wouldn't be the same as our perspectives are now altered about we feel about death, courage and strength; but, we are all guilty of feeling we are just one person on Earth and do we bother going on as nothing really matters; but yet, we all do.

Coupland concludes with; “If we follow Terry's example of choosing the more difficult choice, our lives take on meaning greater than we might ever have dared hope”

After I read that and looked back at the statues, for what seemed like hours – eerie shivers ran over my skin, welling up of tear ducts mixed with admirable feelings towards this motivated young individual who I never knew existed a couple of minutes ago. I leave feeling sad and a bit low, but surprisingly, I simply couldn't dwell on it; I quickly shifted from feeling down to feeling enlightened and reinvigorated.

I think most of us, if not all, are familiar with the story of heating up a frog; put a frog in hot water it immediately jumps out, put a frog in cold water and turn up the heat it will stay there until it dies. Life can sometimes feel like this, sometimes all is required is a bit of bravery to take that leap out of the pan of comfort and accept that new challenge.

Last Supper | 3rd October 2011 | 23:52 PDT

Tonight felt like it was the beginning of the end as a few friends and I went out to not celebrate but, acknowledge with merriment my imminent departure as well as other people's achievements and markers in their lives that seemed that have taken place in the same week.

To respond the rising of a spring tides and everything shifting onto a new plain as the evolution of one era evolves into a another era. A special effort was required from us to enjoy these future changes, we went out and grabbed a burger.

This wasn't like a Happy Meal burger to remind ourselves of a life that was much simpler when, the toughest task you had to face was getting enough confidence to go back to the counter and negotiate with the sales person to swap the toy over for one you really wanted.

What we had instead represented we'd all become bloody snobs abroad with roots to our previous lives... or something. We had a gourmet 3 course meal including beef corn dog, organic sausage and beef burger and cupcake with beer icing with lots of other bespoke beer related items to finish of my spa treatment to my taste buds, each course was matched with a different pint of beer from the local brewery. Each course and each drink was presented by chef and brew-master respectively who gave a brief chat about what we were about to consume.

There's something about the burger (or more likely, the beer) that made us want to go out and drink with a mission to get drunk and seeing as it was a Monday, it was the best day to do it. We headed to Room Eighteen for board game night and immediately got distracted by something more fun that is called a '649 Shot' which involves 3 liquors, a beermat and a shot glass.

649 is the name of the Canadian lottery and sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. First thing being first, liquor – Now, behind most bars in Canada you have 3 rows of liquor like some sort of eye-friendly reminder of why your liver will eventually stop working and cease to exist. With beermat in hand, you have to throw it at the bottles of goodness behind the bar and whichever bottle your beermat hits, decides your fate.

From that impact point the barkeep will count 6 bottles in one direction, up one row and count 4 bottles in the other direction, up one row and count 9 bottles in initial direction with each landing a third of a shot will be poured out, resulting in a horrible concoction of liquid or not – most people had positive results and the minority had a reaction so vile that it sounded like they would be put off drinking for the rest of their lives.

None of us stopped drinking, as we managed to have an overly drunk and emotional final goodbye at the end of the night, thanks to a few pitchers of beer.

The end is nigh.

Party Aftermath | 2nd October 2011 | 23:52 PDT

I feel like I've been living in a perpetual Sunday the last couple of days, today, being actually a Sunday, I can partake in the activities normally associated with a Sunday guilt free.

After a typical heavy Saturday night, you know the typical drill when you wake up in a friendly place that's not your own – you wake up late, you have a glass of water that leaves you feel like you've just taken in a big gulp of stomach churning curdled yoghurt, proceed to lie around looking around in a daze, having incoherent conversations before you realise that a trip to the local diner can be achieved.

A quick American meal later and a giant non-water liquid ingestion, you're ready to spend all that regained energy indoors, watching the flashing colours of YouTube, films, before night falls once more and you feel ready to face the world alone again and return home.

TO THE BUS STOP!! (via bitter-lemons.com)

What caused this day of lapsing? A BC house party an odd experience, where you fall into two very distinctive categories, You're either musically talented beyond your years and can play absolutely everything and create the soul of the party by doing incredible things to a guitar, banging out amazing beats, free-styling deep whimsical lyrics or; you're drunk.

Being a “heavy Saturday night” - I fell into the latter category, I fell quite a bit, trying my hand at drumming or a bit of musical 'whooping' to try and join in, I was swallowed up and left for dead by the giants, leaving me with one option which was to stand there in a jealous awe at these talented people while drinking wine from a beer bottle, because I'm classy like that.

Driving Art | 1st October 2011 | 15:16 PDT

Having the mentality of going out and partaking in a casual and relaxed day that is more suited for a quiet Sunday than a noisy Saturday, I had expected and expectations for the day and wrote it off as a normal day where I would have lived the life of the living.

I didn't notice it at first as I was walking down Robson street but I did sense that there was something interesting skulking there and pulling within my head lobes to go back and after I crossed the road and got half way down the block, before I stopped randomly, without reason, faced 180degrees and moved to where I just came (my body also turned with my face) and parked on the corner was “I Am Eh”

Riiiiiight, what?

Looking at it, I'm not quite sure to make of it, I can make out from its vague shape that it was once a VW Beetle but this has had the entire contents of a bric-a-brac shop poured on top of it, like the owner was making an expensive grown up version of glue and glitter art.

That's not to say it's rubbish, it's incredibly intriguing to see a car contain flowers, toys, garden ornaments, words, flags, money, musical instruments, bikes, telephones, keyrings, fountains and all sorts of other stuff screwed and glued to the car.

Riiiiiight, what?

There was a leaflet dispenser on the side of the vehicle that was 2 full sides of pretentious quotes about the Earth, beings and to be honest I couldn't read it as it was hurting my head too much. The main reason behind is simple; We are the world and this is everyone within it.

Riiiiiight! ... What?

Winding Down | 30th September 2011 | 22:05 PDT

It's the stage between Summer and Autumn meaning the weather is either, warm, cold, cloudy, hot, humid, clear, drizzly, grey in one day, but always appears to be wet, it's more confused about what to do with itself than an overexcited kid on holiday at a waterpark.

With the sun more or less gone, Vancouver has shift a few gears down and everywhere outside has gone dead, the population shift seems more noticeable (with tourism being the 2nd largest industry, after timber) than anywhere else I've been as there are no tourist here, not until the ski season starts.

Void of all intelligent life

Compared to summer this place feels like a ghost town (“Ahhhhh... This town, is coming like a ghost town”) and the people left behind are catching their breath, readying themselves for winter and the various challenges that it will involve. No one is going out, nothing is going on... At. All.

So, when it is raining in an empty wet city, you don't want to be roaming the streets aimlessly because it's rather unpleasant but, I want to remain indoors but out the house, I want to be in-out. For me, that means only one thing, going to a coffee shop.

Vancouver has a laughable amount of coffee shops it's obscene, I couldn't believe it when I first got here. Oh, what a fool I was for thinking that as the first sign of rain is spotted on the concrete, that's your cue to run for a coffee shop.

I left it longer than 30 seconds to get to my nearest Starbucks when this happened and it resulted in me trundling up and down random streets for 30 minutes looking to find a seat to enjoy, it took the 7th place I visited as the other 6 places I tried were absolutely packed out with about a billion people, the whole thing resembled a Serengeti watering hole.

Hang on, this is mud water, I ordered a latte! (via msnbc.msn.com)

When I found my seat, I guarded it for, hours, mostly with an empty drink. Watching people running in from the wet looking for a seat, before bracing themselves to go to the next place, I would find myself pretending to get up, to the joy of the wet guy, only for me to sit back down again and enjoying the little power trip I was on.

Then, I would need to toilet and lose my seat and would have to do the whole thing over again. Oh, how the mighty fall.

Watching | 29th September 2011 | 14:16 PDT

Today, I sat on the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery in the warm sunshine watching people watching people, turns out watching people watching people isn't all that exciting as it's essentially like people watching.

Though, I did see a father tell her daughter off for whatever childish thing she did, then wander off to get a bag of chestnuts, I can only assume that she has a nut allergy and that's the father's way of keeping her quiet.

Drinking With Dinosaurs | 28th September 2011 | 23:59 PDT

From the outside it looks like a robotic spider hell bend on creating havoc on everything that stands in its way and when you go inside and you're transported back to 1986, everything's aged, tired and appears to still be under construction as you notice plasterers working away in the background. The whole thing is horrible, disgusting and vulgar eye sore of a mess that resides on False Creek.


Welcome to Science World British Columbia, the best thing to avoid in Vancouver if you can, it's expensive, small and more often than not, filled with noisy kids and their guardians looking for their next rest bite/drug hit to make the whole experience more bearable.

Not for me, not right now! As all the kids and guardians have been removed. Entrance fee is still expensive at free. In addition to all that, I have a beer in hand, a warm vegetable samosa in gob and live music playing into my ears.

This privileged was all thanks to a young non-profit organisation called Projects in Place, it brings construction, design and community together to implement projects that will benefit people and improve the areas they live in by installing green roofs, living walls, playgrounds, urban farms to name but a few... Which is all well and good, but I wanted to drink beer and see some freaking dinosaurs!

Look, I'm building a garden in a city! (via projectsinplace.org)

On my way to the dinosaurs, I got distracted by frustrating and awesome sciencey things like these stupid brain-teaser puzzles that just resulted in me shouting out “ARGH! Science you cerebral slut” and promptly throwing them back down and storming off, a brain dead race where you had to relax your mind the most in order to beat your opponent, a giant keyboard you could jump on to play it like in the film Big, an infra-red harp, making noises with thin air and a whole lot of other unusual stuff that I've no idea how they're related to science but, whatever!

Look at my fake frustration! (via motivationalmemo.com)

Then, at the far end of the museum, large noises of large death, which could only mean one thing, and as seeing as I've built up this thing to be about dinosaurs, then you'll hardly be surprised that the racket was coming from the dinosaur exhibit.

We enter alone into a dark atmospheric area, only to be confronted with loads of giant moving dinosaurs that look angered and disgruntled as if someone gave them a boring desk job to do for the rest of their lives. Learning nothing about them as the fact sheets on them were about as informative as the rail network about why your train is delayed 3 days, but it was great fun and extremely mind boggling about how big these fuckers were/are and without sounding like a cliché, the whole thing is exactly like Jurassic Park, just without the death and destruction.


This is exactly museums should reboot themselves from being boring, old, depressing and miserable places and to make them work in the modern age of the internet by making it a social engaging experience and more importantly, fun again.

The Stoned Men and Beyond | 27th September 2011 | 20:50 PDT

In this here area there are many stoned men that scatter the area, they're mainly found in rural or beach areas and there appears to be so many, you can smell them in the air and funnily enough I'm not talking about British Columbia's finest green export (not that I can imagine much of it reaches the docks in order to exported)

I am banging on about stone statues that look like men, which when I first saw them I impressed by them and was left in a kind of awe, as they looked so unusual and in most cases, quite ugly – in a good way. They're called an Inuksuk and the more popular Inunnguaq; names which seemed to have been chosen by blindly throwing narwhal whales at the alphabet until the participants got bored after a few throws and decided that'll do.

Oh hello, how are you? Stoned I see.

Inuksuk they're are found along the Arctic circle of North America and are used to mark a passage, fishing spots, points of interest within the Arctic tundra – like an unmanned tourist information board for staying alive. Inunnguaq are the stone structures that represent a human, possibly to represent a community near-by as the size of them would require more than the work of one person.

Walking along the west side of Stanley Park down to the Burrard bridge, you notice the rocky beaches are covered with the results of stone stacking and rock figures enduring the incoming tide it appears that Inuksuk have evolved and inspired a more challenging past time and has been turned into eco-art.

Now... Nobody move...

The practice of rock-balancing which, unless you have been living underneath a large hard solid nonmetallic mineral matter something and haven't grasped what rock balancing was when you first read “rock-balancing” you probably should turn off your computer with your face and go outside or, carry on reading as I'm about to explain. Rock-balancing is where you find oddly shaped rocks and you use the smallest point of it as the connecting surface and you (wait for it...) balance the rock on that small point!

Jozsef Toth is one of the great local (probably only) experts in rock balancing resides by the entrance of Granville Island tucked away on a beach below he has been amazing the passer-by that are observant enough to see him, and has been doing it for over 10 years.

Have a Balanced Day, sir.

You can easily watch him for hours take a ludicrous shaped rock and carefully balance it in a seemingly impossible way, if you're lucky enough to see him in action, than pass on from me what a visual treat his pieces of art are to admire.

McHistory | 26th September 2011 | 16:59 PDT

It's humid, I'm hot but it is raining but I'm still hot, it's the perfect weather to shut yourself away from the world and forget it exists by partaking in the exciting world of quilting, not today obviously as instead, I am just over an hour away from my apartment, walking down this steep, narrow, truck filled, dangerous road next to an oil refinery in Burnaby. What am I doing here?

Oh, what a lovely place to destroy the world

To be honest, I don't know, a friend pointed at a map and said “Go” - no other words were exchanged between us, before or after they said that.

Passing a baby deer behind a fence being watched carefully by a security guard with a gun, I reach the bottom of the hill and I follow the track over a railway track to the water's edge that's obscured by a line of trees. I pass through the nature's fence and look down upon a surprisingly busy beach of fishermen and their families playing.

Nope, nothing much going on here, just people having fun

As I was taking all this in, I was wondering what was it that I had go see. I look up to realise I had not even noticed this surprisingly big dirty white derelict floating barge in front of me, that looked like it had been thrown out of handbook of future architecture from the the days of retro and plonked down this quiet part of the Burrard Inlet.

Oh, well, yes, that's an unusual thing to see here, other than, say, a Yeti.

Then it hit me, I've seen this building before from a picture of the skyline of Downtown Vancouver from around 1980s, this used to live in False Creek during Expo '86 but it was a McDonald's restaurant back then.

Expo '86 which was to coincide with Vancouver's 100th birthday started as a small event with a theme of transportation as a nod to the railways that helped kick start the growth of the city. Ideas for this celebration grew bigger along with it's momentum and eventually this small party would end up being a World Exposition.

Like the Olympics, this Expo would help define and create a personality for the city and its people, by turning an old industrial wasteland next to False Creek into usable, profit making land (though as of yet, development is yet to happen on this site due to the recent recession) It also created much needed infrastructure improvements like Canada Place, now used as a cruise ship terminus. The  SkyTrain, namely the Expo line. BC Place Stadium and Science World are also remnants from the Expo '86 that still reside within the city.

BC Place Stadium to the left and Science World to the right

From what I can tell, that whole period of time is looked upon fondly by everyone involved and seemed to be the main catalyst for the city's growth by placing it on the big stage and inviting investors from all industries to notice and buy into its potential, something that has taken Vancouver from strength-to-strength ever since.

I think for the locals the floating McDonald's, which is affectionately named McBarge was probably the best thing about the event  (though did come under fire for being an eyesore after the event, when it was abandoned in False Creek) and now sadly wait dormant in water, looking for a new lease of life. There is talk of it going to Mission as a centrepiece for their marina redevelopment or to be used as housing for the homeless.

Look, it's bigger than a rock!

As long as it's used for something and it can be seen by people publicly just so it doesn't go to the waste of waves, then everyone wins as I think it looks brilliant and it's an excellent example of  architectural history.

Short, Sweet and Cheap | 25th September 2011 | 16:28 PDT

Ohh what's that? I've been down this road towards Granville Island a dozen times and I have never noticed that before, that' looks awesome. I am talking about Vancouver's Downtown Historic Railway


I know nothing more about it as there was no information on it like what they do, why they exist, the trams I was riding, nothing at all. There were a few leaflets telling people how to get in contact with the council to remind them that they made an “Olympic promise”* of extending the line to Science World, that has yet materialise.

Ran by passionate people, the tram ride was fun and something a little bit different and so cheap, I felt like I should have paid more for it, very weird feeling to have in Vancouver as it was only 2 bucks, for a short return journey along the south of False Creek to the Cambie bridge. Brilliant!


*Say anything to delay and shut people up with no intention of following it up AKA lying.

Back to Chinatown | 24th September 2011 | 19:37 PDT

Bitching to my friends about Chinatown saying how awful it is, not because of the low tax bracket area it resides in, but how every Chinatown is the essentially same bullshit and the essence of  nons...

My friend slapped me at that point and told me I had done it wrong and tried to convince me it was a half decent place to visit, but I was being like a petulant little child and being as dismissive as I could without getting another slap.

Boom! (via ssw.com.au)

My friend slapped me again at that point and told me I should at least visit Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden, I was sighing in my mind thinking I really don't want to, but verbally agreed as I didn't want to be slapped a third time.

My friend smiled and said “good!” then slapped me a third time citing that I rolled my eyes when I said it... I must make a mental note not to do that in future.

Heading back into Chinatown, I arrive at an uninspiring concrete wall with a simple sign saying “Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden” thinking naturally negative thoughts when you're presented with a white concrete wall with a sign saying garden on it. I buy a ticket and like the good little sheep I did as I was told and I joined a garden tour that had just started.

Welcome wall, we wallcome you!

Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden is a faithful reproduction of garden that would have been present in the household of the the few elite during the Ming dynasty. The lengths gone to recreate something of the time required importing rocks, plants, building materials, even pebbles from China and using traditional fabrication methods to assemble the area.

Holy shit, even these?! WOW!

Bizarrely enough Dr. Sun Yat-Sen, has nothing to do with the garden nor a reflection from the era he was from, it was named in his honour as he spent time in Vancouver on three occasions whilst he was raising the funds to help overthrow the Qing Dynasty which finally got rid of the traditional Chinese emperors ruling the land. Dr. Sun Yat-Sen was elected as the first president of China and is tagged as the Father of Modern China.

The garden itself it magnificent, representing every aspect of the outside world such as lakes and mountains it ultimately creates balance within itself using the beliefs of Feng Shui and Taoism you end up with something visually pleasing with carefully pruned plants to remain in proportion, the intriguing limestone rock formations, the little design details as you pass from one section to another and the everything is unique, so much thought has gone into each individual piece of this garden and its structures to keep everything unique and balanced.

Quite rare to see a shellfish basking in the sun

For something that controls nature so tightly and so synthetically, it has so many nods and sympathetic areas that deeply tune itself to the greater world and universe around it, and at risk of sounding like a pompous dickhead, this whole mixture creates something quite spiritually extraordinary.

In Australia, this is called a Bonza tree

Added to this there are a few pavilions erected around the main courtyard to give a simple idea of how the elite live and how these structures were created, such as not using materials such as screws and nails, which in itself is something quite remarkable.

No freaking nails used to keep this all up, just gravity!

The problem is, it's quite small so the whole experience is over before you really want it to be, you look around at the end thinking, there must be morem surely... No, there isn't – get out. Regardless, I'm glad my friend slapped me into submission to go and see this place but, I still stand by my initial thoughts of Chinatown. Blurgh.


An Emotional Colourful War | 23rd September 2011 | 23:36 PDT

I'm with 6 other people wearing what appears to the untrained eye, basic white long sleeve baby onesie for adults. We're standing in a room that looks as if there has been a gang war amongst the different colours of the rainbow and has resulted in Red grabbing Blue and Yellow and going kamikaze by letting off a big grenade blowing everyone into smithereens, splattering their tiny remains everywhere. The whole thing resembles a bad CSI.

This is a Splatter Party, an artistic night out designed for young children, but seeing as adults are better at being kids than kids are, we threw them out and gave them marching orders to go to the pub and drink, like all adolescences their age should be doing.

Drink it up little Johnny! (via phoenixnewtimes.com)

What happens first at this party, is you all go into this closed area to have a small war between each other, like a pain free paintball session, where you throw lots of paint at each other using whatever you can, brushes, syringes, hands, pots, mouth. Sometimes it might accidentally hit a canvas. It would stop being known as collateral damage when someone would stop for a moment and go “Wow, that looks pretty good” before throwing a tub of brown paint at your face and decorate it with pink war stripes.

We called a ceasefire, as we all had to put our newly acquired skills towards a more productive use and work as a team! A large carpet sized canvas that dominated most of the floor was laid out in front of us and in the distance a starter pistol was fired, emotional anarchy followed.

The collective collaboration of creativity was chucked onto this canvas and paint descended onto the it like a headless horseman was riding Big Bird with a stomach problem after eating too many rainbows.

There was laughter, crying, hugging, throwing, cries of “I hate you mother, why did you make me clean my room!” and “I love you, I'm sorry, I take it ALL back!”, experimenting, artistic board meetings with beard stroking “mmmm, it's good but it's missing something... ORANGE! We need orange on this RIGHT NOW!” and mature act of painting penises on each other.

Now, we're just going to draw a happy little penis over it (via wikimedia.org)

We delved into each other's minds to make a final decision that we had expressed ourselves enough and it felt right to stop. We were done, art had been made and in the distance a chequered flag fired. I never knew art was so difficult and this was meant for kids?!

I was left emotionally elated by the whole experience like I'd been in a trance and went into my very being, I went so deep in my soul and left exhausted as I made it through the dark tunnel of obscure thought and living like I had done an 8 hour mind hike to the top of my inner cerebral Everest, so I had a beer and I felt human again.

Concluding thought: Ear full of paint.

Date With Hate | 22nd September 2011 | 17:27 PDT

I'm in a mood of pure annoyance and it's for no reason whatsoever and aimed at nothing in particular, if I was to categorise it, It would be filed under “Dunno – then shrug”, I do know how to fix it though.

I simply need to go out and hate something, look at it with my eyeballs and with a blank and emotionless stare just seethe everything I have towards it, hopefully this will make whatever I look at explode and relieve the pressure built up within me and I know just where to start!

I skip merrily down the street, tipping my hat to people passing me on the street, whistling as I nod my head to the beat of I Hate Everything by Suicide Machines. Rare birds and butterflies fill the air around me but, I really have to control myself and not to get too carried away with this joy. I can't be too happy – there's hate to be had! So, I kill the birds and butterflies with a flamethrower and replace them with dead trees, pollution and the skulls of dolphins. That's better.

Urgh. You make me calm! (via connecticutvalleybiological.com)

First stop, Vancouver Contemporary Art Gallery a gallery which ordinarily would bring delight but because of its free admission, only annoyance is the result as not paying for an entrance is something I enjoy and I look around the two cliché (white walled, concrete floored) galleries.

Entering a gallery to my right, I was met with a sea of finely decorated prints from wood carving, made way back when England was still apart of Middle Earth and the only populated area above the M25 was Newcastle, where the Orcs first settled, they've yet to integrate themselves to learn the English language.

I managed brew some hate when two Canadian art lovers, ignored the leaflet they were reading saying, “Thomas Bewick artist from Newcastle” and assumed everything was from Burrrrmiiiinghaaaam. I looked over at them with pure hate and pointed at the big lettering in the leaflet that said otherwise. Jackasses

Yes, delight! I've found hate, lets use this as a foundation to explode for the next gallery, this one contained brightly coloured bits of crap smooshed together on a canvas with a Helvetica typeface scrambled all over it, saying ponsy things like “The wave of emotion is like the wave of the beach”, “Society is a pile of shit-headed dick-wadded shagadelic chesticled jizz-fart” and “Remember to smile the world is super fantastic wonderful great cool!” - This dissipated my hate and converted my being into perplexed confusion of confusion.

Urgh, you make me confused!

Grumble grumble grumble. I've only enough energy to go to one more place, a coffee shop. This is not any type of coffee shop, this one has annoyingly bad coffee and an art gallery of fine art attached to it, if anything is going to make me want to hate, this will with all their ... ways.

Heading to the counter, I order a coffee from a super-miserable customer service representative, seems unfair to direct my hate at her seeing as she has her own demons to deal with, so I show a little compassion not to destroy her.

Taking my drink, I wander around the art gallery, I'm looking at stupid things like trees, dogs, nonsense, scenery, frames, colours, flowers and general crap. All the while I'm being distracted by people sitting on a sofa and having fun with their conversation and there's soothing heavy metal on the stereo. Argh, this isn't helping me. I finish my drink and storm out happy and contented that non of my anger inducing tactics are working.

Urgh, you make me sick!

I notice a puny tree embedded into the pavement and decide maybe this can help to make me feel like I've accomplished something with my emotional state. So, I gently kick the tree and I feel slightly better, “fantastic!” I thought, and I do it again.

As I finish with the swinging motion of my second kick, a noise begins to rumble up above. I look up to see what is going on, just a branch from up above slaps me right in the head. “Fuck off you little twerp” the tree seemed to have said to me.

I feel saddened and I openly apologise to the tree, I walk homeward bound in an annoyance that I'd failed to alleviate my annoyance.

The Study of Humankind | 21st September 2011 | 18:51 PDT

Looks like someone has been throwing a shit stick around throughout the night because today, is shit. Still that fact won't affect my plans as I've been waiting for a shit day to go and trundle around The Museum of Anthropology and to have a look around an area I've only breezed through previously, UBC (University of British Columbia)

Arriving at UBC, there's a stench of fresh educated brains and optimism of students fills the air, makes me want to leave already and I look back at the bus to seriously think about it but I don't, and I put my hood up on my rain jacket and proceed in taking the shortest route to the museum, ignoring all the students and their mindless chatter about course credits and alcohol.

Well, this looks inspiring!

I get to the museum and I instantly lose all my enthusiasm for this place, it's either the weather or the sudden realisation that I don't like humans or past culture hit me, but unfortunately for me, it's raining outside and I need change for the bus, I hand over a small fortune for my ticket and with as much sense of urgency than a sloth asleep, I go through to the unknown.

The museum was broken down into 4 sections:
First nation section, a big conservatory with piles of old decorated wood, didn't take much interest as to what was going on or what it was all about, judging by the convincing umming and ahhing that was taking place around me, it seemed like I really missed out on something really interesting. I was however distracted from the boring written nonsense as, I was captivated by the designs of their painted work, it was extremely pleasing to look at, it's just a shame that the rest of it like the giant achievements such as their carvings of totem poles, sculptures and boxes I found to be a bit visually tiring.

Except for this carving, because it's a bear! Grrr

A ceramic section, a dark room with lots of old decorated plates and bits of ceramic debris from around the world, with awfully pretentious medieval string music playing in the background. The idea of this section, I think, is you're meant to walk around with an intelligently enthused attitude discussing how each piece looks different and the meaning behind it. It's the sort of grandiloquent area (me included) where you become the most knowledgeable person about absolutely everything in here, because you watched the Discovery Channel once, even though that program was about how beer is made.

Multiversity Galleries, open archive rooms of 10000 pieces of old things stuffed into draws and glass cabinets, you can explore to your heart's content... even though it's broken down into different sections, it was too much to focus on and the bits I peered into all contained old sweaters.

Multiversity, Interesting on the outside, sweaters in the middle!

Audain Gallery has touring exhibits, this one contained brilliant screenprinted Inuit art which was interesting insight to them and their creativity but the whole section was tainted and its magic destroyed by having too much emphasise on the value of their art. It made the exhibit feel a bit like a corporation controlled hype machine to create a buzz within the market over their work to give the Inuit nation an industry and an income after the exploitation of mining and oil companies have destroyed their habitat and livelihood.

And speaking of hype, this museum doesn't really deserve the hype it gets, even with my initial negative, it's a small baron expensive hole to visit. I could've learnt more about the anthropology in British Columbia and Canada by spending my money and time, sitting in an old forest with a Tim Horton's picnic.