Although it hasn't quite arrived yet, summer is in the air this
weekend. The sun is shining, the leaves on the trees have emerged,
line ups at the Denman Street gelato and fro-yo places are forming.
It's the time of year that Canadians, Vancouverites included, pretend
that it is summer despite being not quite there yet. Once the snow, or
rain in this part of the country, has dissipated, Canadians will wear
minimal clothing in the spring that they would never dream of wearing
when the temperature is the same in the fall. At 15°C in the spring,
down vest are moulted. At 15°C in the fall, the same down vest are
worn to fight shivers.
 
I broke out the sandals a couple of weeks ago and yesterday I wore
shorts for the first time of the season, pumped up the tires on my
bike, and went for a bike ride on Vancouver's magnificent seawall. The
seawall is great in that it offers spectacular views of the ocean, the
mountains, and the city. It is also quite flat, so it makes for a nice
leisurely bike ride when taking in the sun and fresh air trumps
fitness goals (which is usually the case in my world). Since the
seawall is only minutes away, it's difficult to find a better place
for a weekend ride. That's if you ignore the fact that every other
resident of the city plus all the tourist think the same thing. The
perfection of the seawall is both a blessing and a curse.
 
A ride on the seawall is a bit like maneuvering through an obstacle
course. The bike path is separated from the pedestrian walkway for
most of the seawall - but not all of it. For the portions where the
two are merged, a cyclist spends more time watching out for wandering
toddlers, off-leash dogs, and rogue pedestrians (those who change
course without notice and just about walk into your moving bike). When
the bike path is separate, these hazards are not necessarily removed.
There are always pedestrians who don't realize the distinction or
choose to walk on the bike path for reasons I have yet to comprehend.
When you take your eyes off the path immediately ahead to take in the
views, you are taking a big risk.
 
Then there are the hazards of the seawall itself, which is under
construction in some areas and badly designed in others. In the
construction areas, pedestrians and cyclists are funneled into narrow,
fence-lined paths riddled with blind corners. Those are fun. The
portion of the seawall paved with flagstones is also ... interesting.
Whoever thought that flagstones were a good choice for a bike path
should be forced to ride on it for a prolonged period of time. The
vibrations, loose stones, and potholes where stones are missing are
genius for adding unwanted diversity to a smooth, leisurely ride.
 
Despite its shortcomings, I will continue to ride the seawall by bike.
I won't take for granted that the seawall, a continuous path along the
ocean from downtown to UBC, is a unique gem. Despite some design
issues, the City of Vancouver planners got it right when they chose to
preserve and promote public access to the ocean. Vancouver is located
in such a beautiful place and the seawall provides a perfect vantage
point to take it all it. If you're on a bike, I recommend pulling over
first.

Out and about in the best North American city this morning.

             

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Last week, Vancouver was described as offering the highest quality of life when compared to other North American cities (it ranked fourth in the world). As reluctant as I am to admit it, I'm a Vancouverite. I'm reluctant to admit it because being a Vancouverite and being a Montrealer are mutually exclusive and I'd rather be a Montrealer. Montrealer implies cultured, indie, edgy, stylish. Vancouverite implies mellow, posh, fit, gortex. But, after being here for over four years, I can no longer deny it: I'm a resident of the best city in North America according to the ranking.

Is Vancouver really the best city? Given the moderate climate, the beautiful setting, the decent infrastructure, and the good food, it's not hard to see why it scores so high. But I'm pretty sure that the likelihood to experience a large-scale natural disaster was not considered when the cities were ranked. Due to the forces of plate tectonics, Vancouver is earthquake prone. Indeed, all evidence suggests that we are overdue for the 'big one'. The aftermath of an earthquake of the magnitude expected would be devastating. That said, seeing as the rating represents a snapshot of the city now, I suppose that it is reasonable to assign a high ranking to Vancouver... assuming that worrying about the impending quake doesn't negatively affect ones quality of life.

I've accepted that an earthquake could shake the city to pieces at any minute. I don't like the idea but I've resigned myself to the fact that it could happen and that there's not much I can do about it. Vancouver is a great place to live and I'll accept the risk. Despite being prone to worrying, I don't think about it on a daily basis. Frankly, the only reason it came to mind recently was that I noticed that the Google maps satellite imagery provides a profile of the seafloor, including the mid-ocean ridge in the Atlantic - evidence of plate tectonics and continental drift. A reminder.

The satellite image also reminded me of the time Kevin came home from a job interview a few years ago and recounted some of the questions he was asked, including "How would you move Mount Fuji?". Before he had a chance to tell me how he had responded in the interview, I blurted, "Do nothing. Just wait for continental drift to take its course." Kevin groaned - such an elegant and simple solution and he didn't think of it. He didn't get the job. I don't think I would have gotten it either seeing as I don't have the qualifications needed to apply.