Canada was one of the countries on my getting-longer places-to-see-before-I-die list. Specifically, I would like to set foot in Ontario to experience the thundering roar and amazing mist of the mighty Niagara Falls, and in Alberta to immerse myself in the captivating nature of Canada’s oldest Banff National Park. My dream to see the country had finally manifested in the Summer of 2017. Neither Ontario nor Alberta was my destination. I was heading to Vancouver. My travel interests and activities usually revolve around the great outdoors. I find myself easily become bored by urban charms. My prior reading on Vancouver informed me of several interesting facts about this Pacific metropolis: it was chosen as the best place to live in North America (and number 5 in the world) in Mercer’s 2016 Quality of Living Survey (The Telegraph, 2017); it is one of the most ethnically diverse cities in the country (Tourism Vancouver, 2017); …and the most interesting fact for me is that Vancouver offers visitors outstanding opportunities for outdoor adventure in addition to its sophisticated amenities of a world-class city (exploreBC, 2017).
I came across a section on Tourism Vancouver website that described #VeryVancouver Experiences. I was fortunate enough to experience 4 of their 6 picks (huge thanks to my beloved friend, Jason): Vancouver’s Seawall, Vancouver by Water (took the Aquabus to traverse between stops in downtown Vancouver), Surf Up a Mountain (hiked up Grouse Mountain and took the Skyride back down), and Vancouver’s Urban Wilderness (biked and participated in the Scotiabank Vancouver Run in Stanley Park). While all of these activities were enjoyable, I had the time of my life biking in the spectacular 9km Seawall that runs counter-clockwise around the perimeter of Stanley Park.
It was not so much the things I saw that gave me much pleasure and satisfaction — Girl in a Wetsuit Statue, Siwash Rock, Prospect Point Lighthouse, First Nations Totem Poles, Lions Gate Bridge, English Bay, sandy beaches —though, I must say, the views of the downtown skyline were absolutely stunning.
Rather, it was the feelings that I derived from biking that meant significantly more to me. I loved to ride a bike when I was a child. I remember there was a great deal of fun in riding with the wind blowing through my hair. I was relaxed and my mind clear. I was so good at bike riding that I could sometimes do it without holding on to the handlebars. But for some reason I stopped riding a bike when I entered adulthood. I could not even recall the last time I did it. So biking in the Seawall brought back some fond childhood memories, memories that came with certain familiar, inexplicable, nostalgic feelings. I felt free like a bird. I was happy. There were quite a number of other bike riders that day. But because I was tremendously absorbed in my own feelings of joy, serenity and contentment, I could hardly feel their presence. It was as if I was exclusively locked in my own little bubble of happiness.