The Vancouver Virgin

When we boarded the plane in Sydney, I won the toss and got to sit by myself across the aisle from Mr.Woog and the boys. I was delighted to find the seat next to me spare. The other seat was soon occupied by a gentleman who, when I told him that the seat between us was vacant, he told me he spoke to English, shut his eyes and proceeded to sleep the entire 14 hour flight.

BASTARD! I slept for a nano-second when I nodded off and my head dipped sharply which woke me up.

But the long trip was worth it. Vancouver, could you be any more gorgeous!

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The days are bright and cool, you can get away with just a jumper here at the moment. In a surprise move Mr. Woog, who organised the trip and is notorious for booking flea bag motels, ponied up for a room at The Fairmont Resort which in a landmark building very central to everything.

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The service is your typical off-the-charts-stuff that you tend to get at North American fancy digs. When we arrived, I fell into a deep, deep coma before the alarm went off. We got out and walked and walked and walked and walked. Vancouver City is often mentioned as one of the top 5 most livable cities in the world, and although she is very neat and tidy, we did stumble across what must have been the ice-dealing corner near Chinatown, which was interesting to say the very least.

The Gaslight District was the area that was originally settled. It sits on Vancouver Harbour which then looks out onto residential and high-rise buildings, with snow topped mountains rising up behind.

Totally bullshit pretty.

Jack is in retail therapy heaven, choosing a very extravagant beanie, of which Mr. Woog commented “They wouldn’t sell many of those I think…”

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Shopping is fabulous and good value. Jack asked his father “Why is everything so cheap?” to which he was answered with “Because it has a strong economy with a good mining sector…”

We visited the Stanley Park Aquarium, where I discovered a creature that might just overtake the dugong as the object of my affection. THE SEA OTTER! They just chill out on their backs.

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The lady who was educating us about the sea otter told us that the sea otter was the most hair-dense animal on the planet, but I told her she was wrong. That would actually be my sister, Mrs Ryan.

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48 Hours is not enough to drink up all of Vancouver. It is a whistle-stop on the way to Whistler where, if word on the street is to be believed, the snow is pretty crap-house. But to be honest, I am just enjoying hanging out with the family. Many, MANY laughs and only one threat of divorce. But that was because of 28 hours with no sleep.

So I am no longer a Vancouver Virgin, and I have the beanie to prove it.

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