I've really grown fond of Vancouver. Admittedly, I am not the biggest fan of their architecture however. I find most residential high-rises littered on their coasts repetitive with little to no beauty. But I'd take one of these ugly penthouse suites and still be all smiles as Vancouver is one of the cleanest cities on Earth. And suffering from a strong case of OCD, I respect the hell out of their dedication to keeping their streets and parks pristine.

As a kid I fantasized about owning a van, possibly just because of the A-Team. As a teenager I thought it would be the most ideal parent-proof mobile bedroom/drug den/sex dungeon. As an adult I still think they're kool but I'm more drawn to their functional uses. The ability to just pull-over to the side of the road and take a legitimate nap is awesome. Some day you will be mine, van.

Meat & cheese. And a kale caesar salad.


On this trip I transformed from red meat only to a complete seafood addict. Last night's dinner began with the seafood tower. I expressed my disappointment, and I'm sure you'd agree, a tower really should be at least four levels. Three levels would be like a loft, but 2 levels!? That's like a beach house. Amazingly fresh and delicious nonetheless.

Vancouver reminds me of San Francisco in a few ways: the weather (at least at this time of year), the seafood (it's better in Vancouver, sorry SF), but most importantly, the ability to walk or ride-a-bike everywhere. I definitely miss walking in San Francisco.

Even the construction sites are clean. And look at that concrete! No litter, cigarette butts, candy wrappers, capri suns, hep-C, dog piss, dog shit, human number one, human number two, or the crucial number three (diarrhea).

One of the fresher hotel lobbies I've been in.

And one of the most comfortable beds I've slept in.

Thank you Vancouver! I am not done with you.

Happy Monday!

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