Still away south. Not for long. Heading for saner pastures tomorrow. Thank God. C’n hardly wait.
No question about it, I am no longer hip. In the urban sense. No longer ‘happenin’. Just NOT cool anymore. Who woulda thunk it!? In fact, it is worse than that – I have lost ‘pace’, I am now in the slow lane. Hell, maybe I should be parked! The city was just too fast for me this time.
You think I am kidding (and to some extent I am) but there’s no question that the city is faster paced and I noticed my having to ramp up to get into the rhythm of it years ago. But this time, I couldn’t catch the beat. The urban tempo and me were out of sync. I was a smidge slow on the uptake. I was even a bit slow in traffic. I was like an old guy from the hicks driving an old truck. Jed Clampett without the oil money.
I am embarrassed to admit that most cars passed me when we were on on the east-west connector. Nobody ever used to pass me! Even stranger……this time….I didn’t care!!??
“Well, we have done our chores. Waddya wanna do now, honey?”
” I wanna go home!”
How pathetic is that?
However, some observations were made and worth noting. Richmond architecture is beginning to look like Hong Kong’s. Ours was the oldest car on the road. Traffic was hell. It is hard to beat Sun Sui Wah for dim sum. Or the Flamingo on Cambie. Both great. Lee Valley is a merchandiser’s dream. TV hasn’t changed. Neither have Richmond’s drivers (the only place on the lower mainland where my sense of pace was greater than the norm). Distances are relatively short but transit times are unusually long. The ferry system remains at MarineSec one still – as it has since the system was employed (how stupid is that system!?). And somehow, costs are rising pretty bloody rapidly for a recession. But, to be frank, Vancouver did have the buzz of a city thriving. Didn’t feel like a recession there.
But it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. We are disconnected. Well and truly. If not completely separated from the city, we are disconnected by at least 90%. Only friends and family draw us now and I found myself making a strong argument for them coming to us. Though – judging from the facial expressions – that is unlikely to happen.
To write about living off the grid, one must also write about visiting said grid when it happens. And it did so I wrote. What I found amazing was that we were gone a week and nothing was worth writing about. That says something in itself, doesn’t it?