There really is no comparison for Vancouver. Minus the fact that there is little in the way of baseball, it exists in its own right. More so, I keep falling back on the thought of wanting to venture my way out to New York and the adventure that would have been. Then it always comes back to how vastly different the two places are with similarities as well. There is always so much to see and do, but people in Vancouver seem to make more of an effort to take that time to breathe and relax. Maybe it’s the ocean being so close. Maybe it’s the fact that you just have to drive about an hour to find some wilderness, great camping sites, or some great skiing. It’s just more humble here. People are not concerned about living in Vancouver as much as there are about living everyday life.
At the same time, there seems to be more people actually from here then you find in New York. It was always impressive to feel like people there thought I was from the city, but Vancouver is a different story. I’m fairly sure that my “accent” give me away. That subtle, midwestern hint to the way that I speak, but not as bad as some other the other natives back home. I have had a run-in with a fellow ex-pat. Moira was from Michigan and moved here as a young child. It was an instant friendship and yet another friendly welcome to this country with a carefully evaded question about my opinion of George W. Bush, a less than popular topic of conversation here.
People here are probably more friendly compared to the east coast lifestyle I once imagined. The cabbies still drive like bats out of hell.
Moira better not be driving my ex-car like a bat outta hell now 🙁 my baby!