Saturday, January 20, 2007

My trip to the far off fantasy land called Canada

To boldly go where no man has gone before, I drove two hours north to Vancouver, British Columbia. And not just Vancouver... No, North Vancouver, a posh little area with eateries, my company's Canadian office, and Canadian women.
What a business trip it was. Unlike my last business trip where I stayed in Hilton Shanghai, here I really lived in luxury here: I drove myself and inflicted upon my new car its first heavy dirt; I lived in the company apartment, a nice place other than the Ikea beds (if a thin piece of something resembling a mattress can be considered a bed) and the fact that no one cleans up after you every day; and, well, that's about it.
The trip was good. I got some meetings out of the way, have several big projects steamrolling along, and best yet I got to go "home" to a nice apartment and just veg out without any to bother me. And at the same time, every night I went out with coworkers, ignored my New Year's resolution to drink less beer, and drank a lot. It's fun watching coworkers "enjoy" themselves, and enjoy themselves they did. Oh, how the martinis were pouring.
On my final days, I neglected coworkers' calls to drive them back down to Seattle immediately, a border with zero wait time and hundreds of friends back home dying to hang out with me (actually, make that around five friends and only one had requested my presence that evening). Instead, I stayed up in North Vancouver by my lonesome to enjoy the peace and quiet and do the unthinkable: watch a movie at a movie theater by myself. Yes, I hadn't done it in years, but I did it: I watched Letters from Iwo Jima (read the Letters from Iwo Jima movie review here) by myself. Some may call it pathetic (as did I for a few minutes), but then again, business calls and I did.
Anyway, before the movie, I spent three wonderful hours standing at a bar (heaven help my feet!) watching the Canucks lose a hockey game in overtime. Those who know me would say that was a sarcastic comment, but it was not: it was a lot of fun (and this I did not do alone, mind you! Two coworkers attended with me to drink booze and watch the Canucks blow a lead in the last 45 seconds of regulation).
One thing I noticed, or at least was reminded of: Canadians are nicer. They are more cheerful than Americans for whatever reason. You hear it in their voices, in their accents. They are just happier people, or at least are born to sound like it. Well, I was going to go into much more detail on this subject, but I've losted interest, so until another day, I bid adieu, if that is how you spell "adieu."

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