I'd be doing pretty well - if I were in New Zealand. Waking at 5:30am Wednesday morning two days after I left Auckland translates to 10:30am the next day here in Vancouver.
A late start, but considering the flight across the Pacific and another from LA to Vancouver to arrive before 11pm last night, a sleep in wasn't out of order, I felt.
Dawn had begun early here at latitude 49 degrees north. By the time I was awake and moving about, the day had developed into a lovely summer's morning.
Outside it felt like a good summer's day in Auckland; warm, not too humid, with a gentle breeze and a sun blazing overhead throwing glaring light about. As an exercise to see my new neighbourhood and clear the heavy fuzzy landing, my girlfriend Cathy led me from the apartment that'd I'd only known from address labels of letters and parcels.
On Fraser Street I looked right and saw the northern landmark mountain range newcomers orientate themselves on, the Coast Mountains of the Pacific Ranges. Cars were still driving on the wrong side of the road from last night.
Another bit of 'foreign' traffic I'm going to have to get used to are the pedestrian crossings that blink amber lights over the road to alert drivers that, for now, pedestrians rule this span of the busy road.
Following the directions of the "Special Crosswalk" I tried to make eye contact with the driver but ended up looking confused (and a little wary) at the passenger in place of the driver I was expecting to see on that side of the car. I found out later that you don't even need a Special Crosswalk on busy roads; cars volunteer to slow to let you cross in the middle of the street. I'd never trust my fate to the charity of drivers in any other country given my previous international experiences on the road.
On the quiet side streets the compact two-storied houses set in well-established gardens with a small patch of lawn and a bit of flair on the porch certainly looked familiar.
It was nothing from my own personal experience, it was a scene I'd only known from TV or the movies. Wherever I'd seen the neighbourhood, or something like it before, I felt a lot more acclimatised here after I saw (and jumped) the chalk-drawn squares of a hopscotch game on the footpath.
Further on, on a lamppost I spied a neighbourhood notice for a pet. Not your usual sad 'lost' notice, this was a happy 'found' cat: "hanging around our house and yard (near John St and 28th) for most of May. If he's yours and you want him back give us a call. Otherwise we will adopt him and give him a good home."
By the time we'd climbed the small hill to gain a vista of central Vancouver from Queen Elizabeth Park I was eyeing up the sprinklers waving their cool spray over the flowering gardens and partially dried out grass.
Not far from Cathy's place is another location I had 2nd-hand experiences of. Long ago Aunty Sally and Uncle George with my cousins Albert, Gary and Jason lived not far from here in another part of Vancouver and sent from the Andersons to the Tuckers an Address Book with images of Vancouver. Included were pictures of Queen E Park, as the locals call it. A well-maintained garden in an already picturesque setting, there were a few tours being led around the gardens with some families walking the paths weaving under the trees and around the flowerbeds. I saw a squirrel!
On the way home, in the back yard of a small vegetarian cafe we ate lunch but had to cut short time spent relaxing on the shaded patio. We had less than 10 minutes to return home to catch my phone interview with Linda Clark, host of the Nine to Noon Show on National Radio in New Zealand. The interview, set up when I was in New Zealand, went OK, I think. When I hung up I realised I had made a glaring omission. John and Elisapeta Tucker hadn't been singled out for a special mention of thanks with the expedition. My parents have allowed me to feel that riding a bicycle around the world is possible. It's only because of their love and support from childhood to today have I got this far.
