A bridge too far? Take the boat!

Forget Pfizer, and stick a fork in Merck. Big pharma is over and done, at least in my cook-books. When I'm on the mend it's not Neo-Citran I'm seeking, it's always chicken soup this soul is searching for. Granville Island hosts The Stock Market, my usual go-to soup shop, but rumour has it they make a wicked chicken soup over on Lonsdale Quay, which in my weakened state had all the makings of an epic journey.  Bea bike was off the road for some general care and maintenance, and I needed care and maintenance, too, so I did the dancing bear gig and  straddled the Strida.

See, here's the thing.  The reason so many people die from a broken hip is cause they spend too much time in bed, incapacitated.  Not moving. The flu stopped me in my tracks for a couple of days, but moderate exercise is the best way to stimulate your immune system and clear out congestion. So... even though I was feeling run down, I decided to head through down-town and over to the North Shore to score some gourmet Chicken Soup at  the Quay.

There's a lot of real estate between me and my soup.

You'll find Vancouver's best fish and chips here at the commercial docks on False Creek, but that's not what we're here for.

As much as I needed to move, I also needed the Unabridged version of the journey.  No heavy climbing, no windy heights crossing the Burrard Inlet, at least not this time.  We banned the bridges and took  to the boats. Woman and folding bikes first is the protocol at sea, right?

Think Cool Change :D

We started with the Aquabus from Granville Island to Hornby street. As you can plainly see, it's aqua-bike friendly.

The natives are friendly, too.  Everyone stops to talk to you when you're a dancing bear on a silly bike.

My other bike doesn't like boats and no I don't own a car. I'm sorry. David who?

We splashed around through down-town to Waterfront Station...

where we found ourselves with fifteen minutes on our hands before the next Seabus.

Hacking skills might have helped me sort out the ticket kiosk.

It was pretty quiet, so we had a look around.

Waterfront Station is Vancouver's version of Grand Central Station,
sans the masses and the whispering gallery and the acres of space. You may not be able to hear your sweetheart's marriage proposal from across the hall, but you can definitely hear the fart of a crack-head at forty paces.

Having seen what there is to see, and smelled... er... never mind,
we still had a few minutes to kill.
Nine minutes and twelve seconds, to be precise. 

nine minutes eleven

nine minutes ten

nine minutes nine

nine minutes eight
is it time yet?

Hooooooray!

We're on our way!

Once at the Quay, we headed straight to Soup Meister,
where I enjoyed a bowl of Thai coconut chicken soup.
Mmm.

I made a new friend named Glen Gould, and we talked about everything from soup to nuts.  But that's enough about me.

Then the man and I checked out the market 

just for the halibut,

'cause you know I'm always fruity enough!

Afterwards we went outside to soak in the sights

of this, the life aquatic

till the next Seabus arrived to ferry us away, and home again,

fortified.

It did make for cool change from the usual, where you'll find us humping it over bridges.

One more cruise draws us under the Granville St Bridge, and what do you know?

We're in the hood again!

Feeling under the weather this time of year?

The Quay 

is in taking it all in Strida.

Nourish your body and your mind:

 go for a souper ride

and see what treasures you might find.

                       

*chickens were definitely harmed in the making of this babblelog.

Writing FLUently

 The boss sent me home yesterday, saying 

"Don't come back till you're well again.  And NO BLOGGING!"

I don't feel Canadian any more.  I feel Phlegmish.

 Even with the flu, though, I'm still moving...

 I am taking it easy, at least for a little bit, and I'm dreaming of the dog days of summer.  

Again, eat your heart out, Mr Colville Andersen.  All the pretty girls smile for me.

She was off to the Vancouver Folk Festival...

English Bay Beauty

Sunshine smiles at Olympic Village.

Beautiful Bicycle Babe (smiling for you):

Sigh.

 Flu sucks. But I have hope...

 for less ailing and more ale-ing!

This, too, shall pass. 

Soon enough I'll be movin' and groovin' on a bike once more.

Till then? Happy trails, peeps.

Vancouver's Taboo: your ticket to ride on the wild side.

The Tour de Taboo beckoned...

ligatio

Our taboos say a lot about who we are as a society, don't you think?  Why do our Western, Judeo-Christian  mores dictate that much of our sexual lives are taboo, while violence is glorified all over the place? I just don't get it, but hey, I'm willing to explore all the possibilities in my quest to determine what makes us tick.

The contrary nature of life being what it is, time was of the essence even as Taboo beckoned, but I was bent on getting there, so the race was on.

(My entry for the World's Most Boring Video competition.
Next week I plan to thrill you with a video of paint drying on a bike frame.)

We made it with time to spare... it was a podium finish.

How apropos:

we wound our way through a long, dark tunnel, only to encounter a ginormous canoe awaiting us at the entrance. 

Imagine how many men might have had a paddle in this baby...!

As we drew nearer, things were starting to heat up.

We meandered through the great  phallic gauntlet...

 Hmmm... is a member's only club...?

Aaaaah. 

Thankfully, no.  The place was teeming with gorgeous girls,

not to mention a whack of diligent riders determined to score the hole shot.

The first character I encountered was this strapping young lad:

He's really tied to his job.

He was doing his best to rope in customers.  His enthusiasm was appealing, and it was tempting, too, but the lay-away plan was just too binding, so I displayed some restraint.

This young woman, on the other hand, was simply fit to be tied.   

My new friend made a quick sale, and our girl was homeward bound.

Oh ho ho, and what have we here?

Talk about being a slave to fashion!

Ok, lots of folks like bacon, but that's taking it a bit far, don't you think?

I'd never ask her to wear neoprene... wouldn't want to rubber the wrong way.

We found toys,

 of course

 tools galore,

and buckets of Lube so guys can grease their chains.

 There were plenty of lovely young hotties on hand, 

offering helpful tits tips and advice...

I wasn't sure where this one went

but someone told me in the end.

There was art to be found, too:

though not in my photography skills.

And what do you know? Jesus loves Porn Stars!

Thank God. What a relief. 

 I'm all for the second cumming.

There were lots of interesting couples in the room...

  here's a brazen pair.

These two were kindov cheeky...

in the best possible sense, of course.

And this young thing, in particular,

is girl after my own heart.

You've gotta love a woman with a healthy carnal appetite.

Eat your heart out, Mikael Colville Andersen.... 

 the hot girls all smile when I ask to take their picture,

which really isn't all that unusual,

 but at Taboo, even the scary girls are friendly.

There was a pole-dance competition, too.

Our lovely MC was tossing door prizes into the crowd,

but we were too far back to win anything

cause that guy throws like a girl.

(even though he hugs like a bear.)

It was a great place to hang around,

 take pictures...

aaaaand make new friends!

It was educational, too: 

 I used to think corsets must be a real pain to get into,

but it turns out they're a cinch.

It's easy to see where Betty Boop fits in...

but you have to wonder what kind of answers our intrepid reporter was expecting her to whisper in his ear...

 

Here's Betty for the new millennium, 

Samantha Mack, 

checking out the spandicks in

Spandy Andy does Taboo.

I wonder what she'll look like in the next millennium, 

and what kinds of taboos she'll be breaking then...

  Let's go and see, shall we?

It's an orgy on wheels!

  Too bad it wasn't a Hummer, cause then you could have the humdinger of all hummers in the 

Happy Hum-Vee.

It's all good, though. 

 I'm happiest pedalling my way to ecstasy, because when I'm on my bike I always get where I'm going with a smile on my face.

Happy trails, Peeps.  

Ride long, ride hard, ride well, 

and as you do, 

may you find your bliss.