Leaving toronto, and chasing buses in taxiss

I planned my day today to what I thought was a good degree of tolerance. I would leave Nadia and Alan Gardens bandb at 9:30 prompt. I told Nadia the night before, and as such she had a delicious breakfast ready for me at 8:30.

The breakfast formula was pretty much the same, which is no bad thing when it is delicious. Only today her variation on the eggs was a pleasant surprise. A split english muffin, each half with warm ham and a poached egg, and then cheese melted over the top in the oven. Yummy. All the other favourites were there - the fruit, the porridge with Apples etc.

I was out the door at 9:40,with just enough time to catch the 10:00 bus. I walked down to the Delta Chelsea Hotel, and it arrived. I got on board, and then we started conversing about where we were headed and at what time. I said my flight was at 12:00, and the driver said to me "Really? That's not good - That's not good at all". In Englad, that would have been all they said and did, and I was expecting the same here. I got comfy in my seat as the driver explained we would be arriving at 11:10 at the airport. Maybe I hadn't told him my flight was domestic, and I would be fine. But then he sat up and said to me "You know what, you could get in a taxi right here and take it to the Waterfront Harbour Castle and be there in 10 minutes. There, you can catch the bus ahead of this one and get an extra half hour at least at the airport. I'll let him know you are coming".

Great - it could almost sound like a taxi chase across town. I got in a taxi and we headed that way. And actually it was a leisurely ride. We arrived at the hotel for the same time that the bus was either arriving, or he had come back to get me judging by the awkward parking.

I had a $20, and the fare was $9.25. I gave the driver the money and asked him for change. I got back a $10 - what about my $0.75? Well, you are in Canada - you tip people here for tripping you up on the stairs into a railway station (this did not happen, by the way). And if you don't tip them, they will tip themselves with your own money - like the taxi driver.

I got my bags, and the bus driver emerged, all mexican and that. I was expecting to be called a gringo.

"Are you the taxi man? Which terminal?" Abrupt. We did the pleasantries, and then we headed out. The last driver was right. I was at the airport in 20 minutes, as opposed to taking the sightseeing tour of every hotel within a few miles of the CNT.

I got to the airport, and the usual WTF occurred with the automatic checkin desks. It was my luck that I managed to find the only free machine that was missing an option for both Passport scanning, and confirmation number check-in. I got hot standing there wondering WTF at the machine, and there were only 2 attendants for nearly 30 machines. It didn't help that most of the people at the machines were old, and thus needed almost every button pressing for them. Well, to be honest standing at my machine I was confused as well.

But luck was on my side, and just as I was about to punch my own head open a machine became free next to an attendant that also became free. She explained to me that all I had to do was find the 6 letter confirmation number (yes - a number made of letters; so that's helpful then) and punch it into this amply stocked list of menu items, on the one that says "Confirmation number" under the checkin options.

Finally through, I went and bought another cruller (my second real one since being in Canada - I still don't see how The third Cruller I had at KK in Heathrow can be allowed to be called a Cruller under international law).

Take off and landing were fine. On the plane, I watched Zombieland, which was amusing, and another movie that I cannot remember. I also bought some food on the plane - domestic flights don't have complimentary food. A callifornia chicken wrap, and a couple of cookies. It was OK.

On arrival in Vancouver, I bought some transit passes - a book of 10 transfer tickets with a 2 hour transfer window, and a single day pass. I don't think I acted with my brain in gear later in the day when I accidentally validated my day pass for the half hour journey to the bandb with absolutely no intention of going out again during the evening. Oh well.

So going one step back. I took the Canada line - the cleanest newest train I've ever been on - to Waterfront Station. At Waterfront, god himself would get lost if he exists. Fancy that - the benchmark station into which all people arrive not having ANY transit desk to assist passengers. I orbited a pot plant and a sign containing irrelevant information more times than the Earth has circled the sun trying to see if I had just missed the help desk. I think I entered and exited the station entrance 6 times. Eventually, I phoned the guy at the bandb again and got his wife. She was very helpful, and explained that I should go to Pender street. I likened the scene out the front of the station to a scene in Zombieland, and thought this was a good suggestion. I was then to catch the 22 bus signposted Mcdonald to the Maple Street stop and wealk up.

Great - where's Pender street? I asked a police lady, with the opening Gambit "Do you know where Pender Street is? I would have thought with a big station like this they'd have a transit desk where I could ask this question". She pulled a face that said "Yeah - you and me buddy". Apparently she was a cop from somewhere else and wasn't familliar with Vancouver - fries with that sir?

Eventually, the cluster-f**k out the front of the station was behind me and I made my bus, and got to the Chocolate Lily.

I absolutely love this place! Rob came out to greet me and take me to the room. It's a nice suite, with a patio for dry days (it's raining) and very nice decor. Comfy furniture - chaise longue, ash leather seat that boings when you sit on it, a small kitcheny thing, a nice bed and a gorgeous slate tiled bathroom. That's just the start.

There was a basket of baked goodies all wrapped up nicely in a square bowl in a cloth, a plate of fruit with what appear to be chocolates bearing their logo, hand made in town; a bottle of wine in a complimentary Vancouver 2010 mens grooming bag (no other things inside); a box of chocolate cookies of all descriptions. In the fridge, a plate with smoked salmon and cream cheese (I see a bagel explosion coming); and two tins of mango puree and a couple of yoghurts.

All of this complimentary. And exploring further there is some nice tea of all descriptions, and there are two types of coffee. Milk is a freesh carton bought today that has not yet been opened.

All of their information is on styled notepaper. There's a flashlight outside on a nail just in case I need to use it if I forget to leave the patio loght on. The slate floor in the bathroom is heated.

This place is amazing.

Their house is a very nice wooden house, with shingle cladding or whatever you'd call it. I went upstairs and talked to Rob about vancouver. He told me lots, and I could have absorbed more of it if I wasn't so tired.

I went downstairs and ate one of the baked scones with the butter in a little dish at the bottom of the basket. I then had the smoked salmon and cheese on the poppy seed bagel, toasted. I had a couple of their teas - an organic rooibos, and a twinings english breakfast.

I then fell asleep for 3 hours on the chaise longue. I needed that. I've got a long, and potentially rainy day, ahead of me tomorrow.

Oh poo. I wanted to catch liz just before she goes to work. I finally got this tablet working with their wireless, but either missed Liz on google talk or she didn't log in. No matter - I'll email her after finishing this - which I will do now.



I planned my day today to what I thought was a good degree of tolerance. I would leave Nadia and Alan Gardens bandb at 9:30 prompt. I told Nadia the night before, and as such she had a delicious breakfast ready for me at 8:30.

The breakfast formula was pretty much the same, which is no bad thing when it is delicious. Only today her variation on the eggs was a pleasant surprise. A split english muffin, each half with warm ham and a poached egg, and then cheese melted over the top in the oven. Yummy. All the other favourites were there - the fruit, the porridge with Apples etc.

I was out the door at 9:40,with just enough time to catch the 10:00 bus. I walked down to the Delta Chelsea Hotel, and it arrived. I got on board, and then we started conversing about where we were headed and at what time. I said my flight was at 12:00, and the driver said to me "Really? That's not good - That's not good at all". In Englad, that would have been all they said and did, and I was expecting the same here. I got comfy in my seat as the driver explained we would be arriving at 11:10 at the airport. Maybe I hadn't told him my flight was domestic, and I would be fine. But then he sat up and said to me "You know what, you could get in a taxi right here and take it to the Waterfront Harbour Castle and be there in 10 minutes. There, you can catch the bus ahead of this one and get an extra half hour at least at the airport. I'll let him know you are coming".

Great - it could almost sound like a taxi chase across town. I got in a taxi and we headed that way. And actually it was a leisurely ride. We arrived at the hotel for the same time that the bus was either arriving, or he had come back to get me judging by the awkward parking.

I had a $20, and the fare was $9.25. I gave the driver the money and asked him for change. I got back a $10 - what about my $0.75? Well, you are in Canada - you tip people here for tripping you up on the stairs into a railway station (this did not happen, by the way). And if you don't tip them, they will tip themselves with your own money - like the taxi driver.

I got my bags, and the bus driver emerged, all mexican and that. I was expecting to be called a gringo.

"Are you the taxi man? Which terminal?" Abrupt. We did the pleasantries, and then we headed out. The last driver was right. I was at the airport in 20 minutes, as opposed to taking the sightseeing tour of every hotel within a few miles of the CNT.

I got to the airport, and the usual WTF occurred with the automatic checkin desks. It was my luck that I managed to find the only free machine that was missing an option for both Passport scanning, and confirmation number check-in. I got hot standing there wondering WTF at the machine, and there were only 2 attendants for nearly 30 machines. It didn't help that most of the people at the machines were old, and thus needed almost every button pressing for them. Well, to be honest standing at my machine I was confused as well.

But luck was on my side, and just as I was about to punch my own head open a machine became free next to an attendant that also became free. She explained to me that all I had to do was find the 6 letter confirmation number (yes - a number made of letters; so that's helpful then) and punch it into this amply stocked list of menu items, on the one that says "Confirmation number" under the checkin options.

Finally through, I went and bought another cruller (my second real one since being in Canada - I still don't see how The third Cruller I had at KK in Heathrow can be allowed to be called a Cruller under international law).

Take off and landing were fine. On the plane, I watched Zombieland, which was amusing, and another movie that I cannot remember. I also bought some food on the plane - domestic flights don't have complimentary food. A callifornia chicken wrap, and a couple of cookies. It was OK.

On arrival in Vancouver, I bought some transit passes - a book of 10 transfer tickets with a 2 hour transfer window, and a single day pass. I don't think I acted with my brain in gear later in the day when I accidentally validated my day pass for the half hour journey to the bandb with absolutely no intention of going out again during the evening. Oh well.

So going one step back. I took the Canada line - the cleanest newest train I've ever been on - to Waterfront Station. At Waterfront, god himself would get lost if he exists. Fancy that - the benchmark station into which all people arrive not having ANY transit desk to assist passengers. I orbited a pot plant and a sign containing irrelevant information more times than the Earth has circled the sun trying to see if I had just missed the help desk. I think I entered and exited the station entrance 6 times. Eventually, I phoned the guy at the bandb again and got his wife. She was very helpful, and explained that I should go to Pender street. I likened the scene out the front of the station to a scene in Zombieland, and thought this was a good suggestion. I was then to catch the 22 bus signposted Mcdonald to the Maple Street stop and wealk up.

Great - where's Pender street? I asked a police lady, with the opening Gambit "Do you know where Pender Street is? I would have thought with a big station like this they'd have a transit desk where I could ask this question". She pulled a face that said "Yeah - you and me buddy". Apparently she was a cop from somewhere else and wasn't familliar with Vancouver - fries with that sir?

Eventually, the cluster-f**k out the front of the station was behind me and I made my bus, and got to the Chocolate Lily.

I absolutely love this place! Rob came out to greet me and take me to the room. It's a nice suite, with a patio for dry days (it's raining) and very nice decor. Comfy furniture - chaise longue, ash leather seat that boings when you sit on it, a small kitcheny thing, a nice bed and a gorgeous slate tiled bathroom. That's just the start.

There was a basket of baked goodies all wrapped up nicely in a square bowl in a cloth, a plate of fruit with what appear to be chocolates bearing their logo, hand made in town; a bottle of wine in a complimentary Vancouver 2010 mens grooming bag (no other things inside); a box of chocolate cookies of all descriptions. In the fridge, a plate with smoked salmon and cream cheese (I see a bagel explosion coming); and two tins of mango puree and a couple of yoghurts.

All of this complimentary. And exploring further there is some nice tea of all descriptions, and there are two types of coffee. Milk is a freesh carton bought today that has not yet been opened.

All of their information is on styled notepaper. There's a flashlight outside on a nail just in case I need to use it if I forget to leave the patio loght on. The slate floor in the bathroom is heated.

This place is amazing.

Their house is a very nice wooden house, with shingle cladding or whatever you'd call it. I went upstairs and talked to Rob about vancouver. He told me lots, and I could have absorbed more of it if I wasn't so tired.

I went downstairs and ate one of the baked scones with the butter in a little dish at the bottom of the basket. I then had the smoked salmon and cheese on the poppy seed bagel, toasted. I had a couple of their teas - an organic rooibos, and a twinings english breakfast.

I then fell asleep for 3 hours on the chaise longue. I needed that. I've got a long, and potentially rainy day, ahead of me tomorrow.

Oh poo. I wanted to catch liz just before she goes to work. I finally got this tablet working this - which I will do now.