La vie est un voyageur qui laisse traîner son manteau derrière lui pour effacer ses traces.
Louis ARAGON


Day 26

am (Hot)

pm (Hot)

Rides = nil
Arrival = Vancouver
KM travelled = nil
$ spent = $15.00 (paint, food)
Time passed on the road = nil
km walked = 8


What a small world! I was walking on the Lion's Gate Bridge on my way to Stanley Park, when I saw Bill, my friend from Toronto. He was leaving for Portland the next day with his aunt. He was living the jet set life and enjoying every minute of it. He said that I should come along. I decided not to go with them because I thought the airfare was too much money. I also felt that Bill and his family were from another class and that it would be tough to keep pace with their lifestyle. I can't visualize myself at a pool party eating fancy crackers for the rest of the summer. We talked on the bridge for an hour, in suspension from the real world. From time to time one of us would climb the railing, move backward and then quickly forward into the air to spit into the water. Like a game of golf played at noon, we lost track of the spits. I thought, neither of us hit any of those little boats that were passing. I did not tell Bill how I felt. We wished each other a good trip. "Maybe we'll see each other in California," Bill remarked without giving me his Californian address. "Yes!" I agreed.

I spent the rest of the day walking in the city - Chinatown - Gastown. Later I went back to Laurie's apartment and helped him with more painting.*


-Daniel

* Looking back, and reading through all of this ongoing painting, I can't figure out why Laurie had painted that floor on the day that I had arrived.




mister
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