Along with warmer days, the desire-slash-need-slash-core-necessity to be underwater has returned. The mere thought that it has actually been a year since my last dive is nightmarishly shocking. I didn’t know I was able to live on dry land for so long.

So today I dropped by the cool store BC Dive and Kayak Adventures to inquire about rental rates and shore/boat diving possibilities.

I came back out rather depressed. Why did I leave my gear in Montreal? The bottom line is I can’t afford to dive, period. What a serious reality check for someone who has been diving for free for the last 17 years! 2500 or 3000 dives - I’ve completely lost count - without the need for a wallet. I guess I was blessed.

And I guess Deep Sea 3D is as close as I’ll get to a shark this year. Life is a beach and then you dive.

Oh, and something else came to my mind while I was posting these and thinking about the tides...

« Pendant que la marée monte
Et que chacun refait ses comptes
J’emmène au creux de mon ombre
Des poussières de toi
Le vent les portera »

[Noir Désir dans une chanson malheureusement prémonitoire;
aucun rapport avec mon post, à moins que...]

Serendipity isn’t only a fancy theory about coincidences and unexpected discoveries; it’s also more than just a cute movie with the great John Cusack and the gorgeous pre-Underworld Kate Beckinsale - soon to be Selene; to me and a growing number of people, Serendipity is simply the most awesome weblog software out there.

Even though it hasn’t even reached version 1.0 yet (the current official release being v.0.9.1, but v.1.0-beta2 is already available), the software has been around long enough to have matured and has proven to be tough, reliable, extremely stable and loaded with great features.

I was lucky enough to choose it when I started blogging and it’s been with me ever since. In addition to being free, easy to install and highly customizable, Serendipity (or sy9 as we call it) is being developed and supported by a bunch of extremely nice people.

Among them, mighty Garvin Hicking, core developer, has managed to get me out of trouble more than once with his extremely accurate comments and explanations, via the convenient Serendipity Forums.

Carl Galloway was the winner of the Serendipity Theme Contest and as such has joined the ranks of people working very hard towards the completion of pending version 1.0 (which will come with a new look: redesigned web site and new logo). His template will become a standard feature of the upcoming release.

Carl had a very nice comment about Coriolistic Anachronisms in his own blog under a post titled Some of the best looking Serendipity blogs. Thank you Carl, it’s much appreciated and an honor coming from you!

Keep up the good work, I’m looking forward to the new version of s9y!

7:35 - I catch the mighty #22 bus at Knight and E. 15th Avenue. At bush hour, they come every 5 minutes or so and today I don’t even wait 3 minutes. (Bush hour is the bus-rush hour, in case anybody wondered)

7:50 - Getting off at Burrard, I walk half a block to Georgia.

8:04 - #257 Express to Horseshoe Bay is here. Few people are onboard the double-length bus. Once across the Lion’s Gate Bridge and having paused at Park Royal, it’ll be non-stop until our destination.

8:45 - Arrival in the cute little coastal town of Horseshoe Bay, northern Vancouver BC Ferries terminal. The town is shyly tucked away between the mountains and the sea, and the famous Sewell’s Marina itself rests behind an outcropping of rock that only opens up to the north. Howe Sound extends from here northward to Squamish. To the west is Bowen Island. High above and to the east are Black Mountain and Hollyburn, and the ski resort of Cypress Mountain.

9:30 - After drinking the ritual morning coffee watching sea birds, I check-in with the tour office and receive a bright orange full survival suit. This morning is already comfortably warm but the water remains cold and the suit won’t be superfluous as a protection against wind and splashes once we’re out on open seas. Besides, it makes us look cool.

10:00 - Along with 10 other brave and daring tourists, I embark a 28 foot rigid hull inflatable boat after the skipper has given us the ritual « boat talk ». On the program, a 2 hour long eco-tour of Howe Sound and the Strait of Georgia.

Leaving the marina, the skipper heads north along the coast, following the Sea to Sky Highway that leads to Whistler. I soon spot a few seal heads pocking through the calm surface but since the skipper hasn’t said a word, I assume there are many more to come and keep the camera hidden inside the suit.

He describes the scenery during short breaks between which he keeps the boat on plane at what seems to be close to full speed. We spot many species of birds including Harlequin Ducks, Cormorants and a few Bald Eagles.

The north face of the Lions appears high above us and reveals a spectacular hiking opportunity. I get very excited and decide to come back in July when the snow will have melted.

Then it’s Mount Garibaldi’s turn to appear in the distance, northern most volcano in the Cascades, even though it doesn’t officially belong to that range.

I had guessed right about the seals. We soon cruise by a few small rocky islands and shoals on which is resting an entire colony of Harbour Seals. They seem to tolerate our noisy presence with indulgent annoyance. We do the tourist thing and shoot wildly. With our cameras, of course. Seals are a bit of a touchy subject when it comes to shooting. Shoot! I goofed.

The tour then takes us west and into the Strait of Georgia, around Bowen Island and south to Point Atkinson and its lighthouse. On the way back north, I recognize Eagle Harbour. The very steep shoreline is lined up with the most amazing display of outrageous wealth. I ask the guide how much the houses we see sell for. « Oh, five to ten or twelve millions, he says. Some go for more. »

I stay silent. What could one reply to that? It’s more money than my entire genealogy has ever owned, adding all my ancestors together from my parents and grand-parents to the first prehistoric man my presence here could be traced to.

12:00 - The skipper docks the boat back into its slip at the marina. It had been chilly offshore but the warm sun immediately takes over and the suits drop. To bad for cool looks, cool smells are even more important. We are probably headed today for the season’s warmest temperatures; it’s a glorious day. This stamp is worth many more. And today, B.C. has justified its flag.

13:30 - After indulging myself with yet another coffee at a terrace, I catch the express bus back to Park Royal where I transfer to #236 bound for Capilano and Grouse, still on the tourist trail.

14:30 - Capilano Suspension Bridge is quite crowded today. But they have the best stamp system I have seen so far, forcing you to actually run around the compound and stamp a map yourself in seven different spots. I get a good laugh at the faces of people carefully walking across the swaying 170 meter long bridge, 70 meters above the Capilano river.

17:00 - I’m back in town after crossing the Burrard Inlet on the SeaBus. I drop by the Tourism Office and the Convention Centre to collect a couple more stamps and slowly head back home. Now I have some writing to do…

Tourism Challenge, day three.

Yesterday was Sunday, the 23rd of April. The Sun Run was going on and downtown Vancouver was crawling with people.

I woke up a little late, having spent a long evening at Seida’s friends on the way back from Grouse Mountain. Turkish origin and beer, and awesome hospitality.

So this morning I caught a bus to Stanley Park and went to the Vancouver Aquarium. The hour and a half I had set aside for the visit turned out to be way too short. The belugas, the dolphins and the sea lions by themselves consumed most of my time. I’ll have to go back soon. But I had also booked a Harbour Cruise tour and had to leave.

The MV Harbour Princess sails from Coal Harbour. She took us on a very enjoyable 75 min. tour around the Burrard Inlet; we cruised by Canada Place, the Port of Vancouver, saw a lonely sea lion basking in the sun on a barge, not far from the fisheries - smart guy, turned around a bit before the Second Narrows, followed the North Shore passed Lonsdale Quay all the way to the Lions Gate bridge and finally rounded Stanley Park back into Coal Harbour.

Then I went back to the park and spent an hour on the horse drawn park tour. The percherons pulled the 30-person car seemingly effortlessly and I smiled at myself, doing the tourist thing.

The Tourism Challenge kicked in Friday and since then, Vancouver has been blessed with gorgeous weather.

Yesterday after work, we hopped on the SeaBus and headed up for Grouse Mountain. The late afternoon sun was warm, the light bright and the sky, perfectly clear.

After an almost vertical 900 meter climb, the Blue Skyride cable-car dropped us off at the alpine station, 1128m, and we were granted a magnificent view of the Lower Mainland and surrounding islands. A sweeping look from left to right revealed Mount Baker in the State of Washington, the Orcas Island and other San Juan Islands, the Gulf Islands and finally the Vancouver Island, blocking by itself 90 degrees of the horizon. And far in the distance due south stood the snow capped Olympic Mountain Range, west of Seattle.

We walked in the snow, fooling around with the huge carved wooden sculptures and getting our feet wet, then watched sunset over a hot coffee and marveled at the thought that we had been wearing t-shirts downtown only a couple of hours ago and were now in the snow zone nearing subzero temperatures.

And the most amazing view was the final one of the city by night as seen from the descending cable-car. Darkness and motion prevented any pictures but the scenery was simply breathtaking. One stamp but hard to beat.

[Silvia expertly captures me making a fool of myself, as usual]

These are fun, busy days. Yesterday saw a second Vancouver-Frenchie coffee-blog-turned-Indian-Food get-together. Steph and Fab told me all there is to know about the French blogging scene, and Lyon’s in particular. Good times!

The Vancouver 2006 Tourism Challenge has officially started, so my next few posts will obviously be focusing on the Greater Vancouver attractions. Click above to read more about the very clever Vancouver Tourism and Attractions incentive to keep its main workforce updated (and motivated) about everything the city has to offer. A fantastic formula if you ask me, and unique too, as far as I know. Correct me if I’m wrong. In any case, from now on, it’s all about stamps.

I started the race today by going to see IMAX Deep Sea 3D - yet again - and walking out of the theatre totally thrilled - once again. Then there was the Storyeum, a theatrical adventure through B.C.’s history presented by actors in a 65,000 square feet underground playground, accessed via gigantic elevators with a 200 people capacity each and including an 88% scale replica of the first CPR locomotive to pull a passenger train across Canada. We did miss Dinosaurs though, because we wanted to get to IMAX on time. Priorities, priorities...

And then I finished by running around downtown and quickly visiting the main hotels, for a few more stamps, to have been there and know what I’m talking about, and mostly to keep up with Silvia and not lose the bet...

Stay tuned for more visit reports this week-end.

It was raining miserably when I hopped on the #351 bus in downtown Vancouver, bound for the great South. An hour later, however, when it dropped me off in the pleasant little town of White Rock, the sky above was blue and pure. I peeled off my fleece, got the camera out of my backpack and headed down the hill to the waterfront.

I was immediately struck by the similarity with West Seattle’s shoreline. Same location south of the city center, close enough to be easily accessible but far enough to have that remote small town feel. Same waterfront lined up with restaurants and coffee shops. Same heteroclite residential architecture ranging from modest beach bungalows to hacienda looking mansions. And same joie de vivre in the air. Even though I was still within the Greater Vancouver boundaries, the mood here was a vacation one.

And it suddenly dawned on me: « Ici, c’est autre chose que loin, c’est ailleurs. » (Jean Giono)

I started by following the crowd down the town pier and turned around to glance back at the peculiar rock (nowadays painted white) that gave its name to the place. I had timed my visit perfectly and the tide was indeed so low that one could actually walk out all the way to the end of the jetty on the dark muddy sand below.

A few brightly colored starfish were clinging to the piles and I decided to go walk down the beach to the north, away from people and towards larger rocks and tidal pools.

A good mile and an hour later, my shoes wet and my memory card getting full, I left the beach and followed train tracks back to civilization. It was time for coffee, or maybe an ice cream.

But then my eyes caught the sign. There are words the human brain will identify systematically even among a hundred others. This one said « tartiflette ». I quickly scanned the menu up and down. Fondue, escargots, tripes, boudin noir, moules marinières. I was home. Eva’s salad would have to wait.

I walked into the almost empty restaurant called le Vol au Vent, realizing that it was only mid-afternoon. « Bonjour », greeted me the hostess. I chose a table outside in the sun, ordered a beer and my tartiflette and sat back, very content, watching people go by.

And there, I had my revenge on last week’s bouillabaisse. The food was excellent and the chef’s attention to details and presentation a pleasure in itself. Pondering the strange fact that my last tartiflette went back 2 or 3 years to a fall evening in Chamonix, after a full day of paragliding, I wiped my plate clean and gave in to a pear pie served with chocolate sauce, vanilla ice cream and homemade whipped cream.

The hostess came by once in a while, chatting in French about their evening menu, the city, the May antique cars rally and the puzzling fact that on this occasion, women loose the attention of men to the cars, and she concluded: « C’est une belle petite ville. Il faudra revenir nous voir. Et il y a beaucoup de jolies célibataires! » Wink, wink. I guess it’s that obvious…

Around 5:00 pm, the sun was still high and comforting. A coffee was smoking in my cup and I sipped on it slowly as I watched a thunderhead build up over the Orcas Island in the San Juan archipelago, far to the south.

And Morrisey’s words came to my mind:

« This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down... »

Hasn’t it been said that sleeping is dying a little?

Well I guess it’s a good thing that I’ve been spending my last few nights up and about, then. Between the late evening walks through the downtown streets watching the city interact with its people, the middle-of-the-night trips to the Main St. coffee shop that last hours as I’m wildly fencing at some ridiculous programming issue like trying to install a character map plugin to Serendipity’s HTMLArea editor or adjusting an obscure aspect of the blog’s template, and the early morning runs in which energy is borrowed not from my own depleted resources but from those of a dawning day, it seems I don’t do much sleeping at all…

So this morning I’m happily enjoying a hybrid latté I fixed myself at work - even though I’m off today - looking down at the quiet city on this Easter Monday.

The weather is unsettled; multilayered clouds cast strange silhouettes in the tormented sky and the air is still chilly. It will warm up though, and where I’m going I won’t need that much sunshine.

If I’m killing time up here it’s just because I’m waiting for the... tide to come down. Destination: the White Rock beaches, which I would like to hit at low tide. With close to four meters of variation, the local tides have a huge impact on flat sandy shorelines and I’m hoping for a tidal pool heaven.

So Eva gives me a fantastic looking bowl of her homemade spicy-sweet salad, which I decide to pack up for a later pick nick. White Rock, here I come.

[To be continued...]

« On vous demande de répondre par oui ou par non, alors ça dépend, ça dépasse! »

« C’est parce qu’allumette, ça prend deux L, comme les avions. »

Le Père Noël est une ordure]

Note: Apres mûre réflexion et pour rassurer tous les grands enfants parmi nous, je me dois de préciser que la ligne entre crochets ci-dessus ne représente que l’origine de ma citation et non une opinion personelle.