It’s nice to be back.
My wife and I have spent the past two years and more in Vancouver, returning to the Cariboo for the summer to renew friendships, feed the mosquitoes and drop a bundle on raffle tickets at the mall.
Friends and acquaintances frequently express astonishment that we’ve managed to survive this long in the city: “How can you stand all that rain and the crime? And what about driving; it must be a nightmare.”
“And how on earth can you afford to live there anyway?”
How do we stand the rain? Well, for one thing, we don’t stand. If you stand around on a Vancouver street corner, some person of alternate disposition is likely to mistake you for a generous individual and hit you up for a coffee or a condo, or just hit you.
Vancouver’s rainfall is greatly exaggerated. The media is to blame: most of their research is done in the shower.
In actual fact, precipitation in the Lower Mainland is less than 10 times that of the Shetland Islands and compares favourably with the Amazon in monsoon season.
To put it in perspective, we scraped moss off the Honda five times only in July, and were forced to don flotation devices on just three occasions to go shopping.
As for crime, over a period more than 30 months, neither one of us has been stabbed or shot. Vancouver is every bit as safe as Baghdad or Damascus.
To give you an idea of how safe things really are: one time I mistakenly wandered into the notorious Downtown Eastside late at night. I’m happy to report, I emerged a mere five hours later two blocks away on Georgia Street, not the slightest bit murdered.
In the process, I got to exchange some jolly banter with a group of banking-challenged individuals who simply wanted me to provide them with a demonstration of how to enter a pin number in an ATM.
Driving in Vancouver is no more hazardous than driving in Mexico City, and compares favourably to Delhi or Beijing. Winter driving, particularly on precipitation-favoured nights, is exciting.
The cyclists without lights, the pedestrians in dark clothing, streets signs the size of pencils, all make for a fun experience.
I have yet to encounter an incident of road rage. Generally speaking, we find Vancouver drivers to be among the most courteous anywhere.
Where others might show visible anger when you honk at them as they tear through a red light, Vancouver drivers will often acknowledge you with a cheery wave of the finger.
Vancouver house prices are high: that much is true. A modest 100-square-foot, no bedroom, use-the-toilet-at-McDonalds apartment, with parking for a unicycle, can cost more than Donald Trump pays for a haircut.
But if you’re not in a hurry, and prepared to live a little bit beyond the downtown core or Kits, there are some nice affordable digs to be found nearby in places like Hope and Boston Bar.
So there you are. Don’t believe all that you see and hear about Vancouver on the six o’clock news.
Come and see for yourself. We’ll be happy to show you around.
As soon as the police locate our car that is.
Colin Campbell is a former 108 resident and correspondent for the Free Press.
