I must apologize for the absence of Blogs the past few weeks….November is generally the time when staff go on their vacation as the hotel tends to wind down after the busy summer period.
Coming back to Vancouver in the middle of November is like returning home to an unfamiliar city – gone are the glorious blue skies of summer, now replaced by the seasonal Pacific storms that barrel the coast like an unrelenting train (which in actual fact is the case). For some this can seem like a drab nightmare, but there is a great charm to the weather that makes the Pacific Northwest so unique.
We feel that rain should never stop you from venturing out, if anything, get the wellies and anorak on and brave the elements…the colors of the sky are not as dull gray as you may think…and Stanley park comes alive with the passing weather, its this time of year when you realize and notice that Vancouver is nestled in a temperate rain-forest, so take a good look as the fronts sweep by and watch the trees breath out the condensation in the park, it truly is a living and breathing ecosystem.
There are plenty of things to do in the city that is undercover, such as Granville Island Public Market, the Big Bus city tours, Museum of Vancouver alongside the Macmillan Space Center and Police Museum near Kitsilano Point at Vanier Park.
At Kitsilano Point there is a great story that sums up our “Raincity”. Which has been carved onto a large rock, it is a lovely testament to the inclement weather.
This story stone, entitled “Vancouver in the Rain” is one of ten across the city. Here it is….
“It is probably fair to say that one of the things for which Vancouver is most famous is rain. It is true that it can and will rain here for weeks on end. Several years ago I found myself coming close to being thoroughly disgusted with the rain, unusual for me as it usually bothers me not at all.
I was walking home from work and was mumbling under my breath the whole way, carrying on about how this weather was suited only to ducks. The building I lived in at the time was a large square building surrounding a brick courtyard. I came around the corner into the courtyard and there, to my amazement, was a beautiful Peking duck, having a ball in a huge puddle in the middle of the courtyard. It was quacking and splashing with such obvious delight that I had to smile, glad that such joy could be found in the gray wetness of such a day.
I really love the rain in Vancouver. I have been told that the Inuit have hundreds of words for snow. I have often thought we don’t have nearly enough words for rain, for there are so many types of rain. There is soft rain and hard rain and sideways rain, rain that makes you instantly wet, and rain that leaves soft kisses on your cheek, like the wings of a butterfly. There is cold rain and warm rain, go out for a walk rain and stay in bed with the cats rain. There is booming rain and whispery rain, rain that lulls you to sleep and rain to sing you awake. The rain brings us all the shades of gray, but it also brings us the wonderful greenery which surrounds and blesses us.”