Every time I go to a new city, I try to find a local yarn store that sells locally spun/dyed yarn and buy some--that's my souvenir for myself. So today, after lunch, I looked up the nearest yarn store and found Baaad Anna's Yarn--which claimed to support local spinners and such. So, I headed off, since it didn't look too far on the map. And the first mile or so was the usual conference center sort of thing.
While these are businesses, they are also apartments. Each one has 10 or more floors of living quarters at the top. I can't fathom what people pay to live there.
Where are we again?
Levi, my shuttle driver mentioned in a previous blog, told us that the cherry blossoms are almost done. So "pay attention to them while you can." Hear that? Pay attention!
These electric buses whizzed past me every few minutes. Are they trams or cable cars? I can't remember now.
After about 2 miles, the city started to look a bit down heel. There were still plenty of pedestrians, mainly old Chinese-Canadian ladies and I figured if they could toddle around these parts, doing their shopping, so could I.
Not too long after this, things took a turn for the worse. Suddenly stores had those accordian bars going across all windows and doors, and every third building was a mission. (The others alternated between "Canna Stores" and very, very seedy diners.) Then the strangest thing happened: the side walks went from relatively empty (four or 5 people walking around per block) to packed so tight with bodies, that it was impossible to walk. The sidewalks were covered (carpeted) with homeless people, shit, piss, puke, random bits of clothing and people (who were soaked with shit, piss and puke). The smell was unreal. I walked in the middle of the road (and traffic was actually pretty busy) but it simply wasn't possible to walk through the throng without stepping in shit. I read that Vancouver was the first free needle exchange city in North America. The plan was to cease criminalizing street drug use, and lure addicts into clinics with clean needles. Unfortunately, all free psychological services were cut off and shelters are being torn down in favor of high price apartment buildings. So, with the neighborhood slowly gentrifying (the conference center is creeping along, eliminating all the old neighborhoods) and more and more people are ending up on the street, homeless and diseased (both physically and psychologically).
This Save On Meats place intrigued me--but not enough to slow my pace, let alone go inside.
I feel I must confess that I didn't take these pictures of East Hastings. I was too scared to take my camera out of my pocket to take pictures. (Would any of these people have noticed?) But I found a guy who posted a good blog about his tourist experienced in Vancouver while staying in a $39 a night hotel here. Shudder! Better him than me...
Apparently that stuff scattered on the ground is stolen stuff (or "found") that is sold to earn a bit of cash to support the heroin habit. I saw several ladies (very, very tired looking ladies) who looked like they were willing to go for a bit of a tumble for a few dollars. (Canadian dollars!)
According to the lady in the yarn store, Vancouver has the highest homeless heroin addict population per capita of any city in Canada. (She immediately said, "Though I suppose you have similar problems in the states?" I was tempted to say, "WHAT?!? In the best country in the world? How DARE you!" But I didn't. Though even in LA, I never saw throngs like that. Maybe they just spread out thinner.)
Now you can see I am in the hippy-dippy part of town, where the pot stores can't simply sell their wares in plastic baggies, but instead have to sell the stuff in wholly organic, free range egg shells. Why? I have no idea.
And this is where the yarn store stuffed with vegan yarn is. (I didn't buy that, I got wool yarn. Because I am evil.)
I asked about taxi cabs and was assured they drove past fairly regularly so, spared another foray into the armpit of Canada, I relaxed and looked around a bit. Apparently yarn souveniring is normal amongst knitters. Good to know. The lady working the yarn store was practically giddy when she realized that I am American and would be paying (since I was using my credit card--yes, that's right Simon--I charged it and we will never, every be able to afford to pay it off) not in Canadian dollars but in American dollars. "That's 20% cheaper! You could buy MORE!" I said, "Yeah, but then I wouldn't be saving any money, would I? I should really buy only one itty bitty skein and then it would REALLY be cheap!" That made her grumpy and she stopped talking to me. And Yarn Lady was right, I stepped outside the door and there was the ubiquitous Indian-Canadian in a cab with nothing better to do than drive me back to my hotel. He was very quiet and I was too tired to bother--until we got to the icky part of town and I said, "This has to be the worst part of a city I have ever seen--and I've been to Italy." That opened him up. He railed against Canadian government, big business cutting deals with city planners (businesses who make trains, buses, trollies, fast rails) all promise loads of jobs if only the city will purchase several billion dollars (Canadian--so that is no small sum) worth of goods (and throw tax breaks for the business into the deal). "And who ends up paying for all this folly? Not the businesses. Not the politicans. Not the rich people. The poor people, that's who!" Right on, I said. So we chatted with plenty of righteous indignation to go around. (He was very excited when I said I lived in Flint. "So you have bad things in your town, too?" He asked rather sheepishly. Did we! That made him happy.) I think all that griping cheered him up no end and he was fairly chipper by the time we got to the hotel.
Was it worth it? I don't know. I'm too tired to think about it.
While these are businesses, they are also apartments. Each one has 10 or more floors of living quarters at the top. I can't fathom what people pay to live there.
Where are we again?
Levi, my shuttle driver mentioned in a previous blog, told us that the cherry blossoms are almost done. So "pay attention to them while you can." Hear that? Pay attention!
These electric buses whizzed past me every few minutes. Are they trams or cable cars? I can't remember now.
After about 2 miles, the city started to look a bit down heel. There were still plenty of pedestrians, mainly old Chinese-Canadian ladies and I figured if they could toddle around these parts, doing their shopping, so could I.
Not too long after this, things took a turn for the worse. Suddenly stores had those accordian bars going across all windows and doors, and every third building was a mission. (The others alternated between "Canna Stores" and very, very seedy diners.) Then the strangest thing happened: the side walks went from relatively empty (four or 5 people walking around per block) to packed so tight with bodies, that it was impossible to walk. The sidewalks were covered (carpeted) with homeless people, shit, piss, puke, random bits of clothing and people (who were soaked with shit, piss and puke). The smell was unreal. I walked in the middle of the road (and traffic was actually pretty busy) but it simply wasn't possible to walk through the throng without stepping in shit. I read that Vancouver was the first free needle exchange city in North America. The plan was to cease criminalizing street drug use, and lure addicts into clinics with clean needles. Unfortunately, all free psychological services were cut off and shelters are being torn down in favor of high price apartment buildings. So, with the neighborhood slowly gentrifying (the conference center is creeping along, eliminating all the old neighborhoods) and more and more people are ending up on the street, homeless and diseased (both physically and psychologically). 
This Save On Meats place intrigued me--but not enough to slow my pace, let alone go inside.
I feel I must confess that I didn't take these pictures of East Hastings. I was too scared to take my camera out of my pocket to take pictures. (Would any of these people have noticed?) But I found a guy who posted a good blog about his tourist experienced in Vancouver while staying in a $39 a night hotel here. Shudder! Better him than me... 
Apparently that stuff scattered on the ground is stolen stuff (or "found") that is sold to earn a bit of cash to support the heroin habit. I saw several ladies (very, very tired looking ladies) who looked like they were willing to go for a bit of a tumble for a few dollars. (Canadian dollars!)
According to the lady in the yarn store, Vancouver has the highest homeless heroin addict population per capita of any city in Canada. (She immediately said, "Though I suppose you have similar problems in the states?" I was tempted to say, "WHAT?!? In the best country in the world? How DARE you!" But I didn't. Though even in LA, I never saw throngs like that. Maybe they just spread out thinner.)
Now you can see I am in the hippy-dippy part of town, where the pot stores can't simply sell their wares in plastic baggies, but instead have to sell the stuff in wholly organic, free range egg shells. Why? I have no idea. 
And this is where the yarn store stuffed with vegan yarn is. (I didn't buy that, I got wool yarn. Because I am evil.)
I asked about taxi cabs and was assured they drove past fairly regularly so, spared another foray into the armpit of Canada, I relaxed and looked around a bit. Apparently yarn souveniring is normal amongst knitters. Good to know. The lady working the yarn store was practically giddy when she realized that I am American and would be paying (since I was using my credit card--yes, that's right Simon--I charged it and we will never, every be able to afford to pay it off) not in Canadian dollars but in American dollars. "That's 20% cheaper! You could buy MORE!" I said, "Yeah, but then I wouldn't be saving any money, would I? I should really buy only one itty bitty skein and then it would REALLY be cheap!" That made her grumpy and she stopped talking to me. And Yarn Lady was right, I stepped outside the door and there was the ubiquitous Indian-Canadian in a cab with nothing better to do than drive me back to my hotel. He was very quiet and I was too tired to bother--until we got to the icky part of town and I said, "This has to be the worst part of a city I have ever seen--and I've been to Italy." That opened him up. He railed against Canadian government, big business cutting deals with city planners (businesses who make trains, buses, trollies, fast rails) all promise loads of jobs if only the city will purchase several billion dollars (Canadian--so that is no small sum) worth of goods (and throw tax breaks for the business into the deal). "And who ends up paying for all this folly? Not the businesses. Not the politicans. Not the rich people. The poor people, that's who!" Right on, I said. So we chatted with plenty of righteous indignation to go around. (He was very excited when I said I lived in Flint. "So you have bad things in your town, too?" He asked rather sheepishly. Did we! That made him happy.) I think all that griping cheered him up no end and he was fairly chipper by the time we got to the hotel.
Was it worth it? I don't know. I'm too tired to think about it.
1 comment:
Glad you got the cab!
xM
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