Burrard Inlet.

Stompin' Tom and I took a walk across the Burrard Street Bridge here in lovely Vancouver. While he wailed about the 19 steelmen who died in 1959 during the construction of the long steel bridge that passes over Granville Island to the east of us, the sky opened up and poured on me. Then some guy ran into me because I was walking in the bike lane.
Like all classic authors, I'm starting this story in the middle. The drive from Calgary was uneventful; gas mileage and truck performance were respectively fantastic and pathetic. Hills were slow on the up, and rock on the down, with downhill speeds often exceeding 140 km/h with little or no shimmy. Uphill, well, let's say if I had a dollar for every middle finger I got for slowing down traffic, I could buy you and me both a submarine sandwich. Just one. And I pick the toppings.
Add the fact that I rocked myself into Hangover City the night before I left, and you've got one sweat-tacular headache-fest of a drive.
Another source of discomfort was the fact that the last time I'd made this drive was at the dawn of my first-ever relationship with ... hee hee... a girl. It was weird seeing it all again in the same order and at a similar pace, but without that new-relationship euphoria. It sort of lacked the same pizazz. Mind you, I stopped much less often to make out this time, too. Sorry, ladies. No time for truck-stop romance.
Anyway, Vancouver is a lovely town. It's not stunning or amazing so far; but it's only been a few hours since I woke up, and I really don't know what to look for.
Here in the present, I'm in Vancouver's super-weird Colosseum library, which looks like a Roman ... colosseum. Duh. Inside, it looks like a huge civic undertaking, well-funded and costing billions of dollars per second to run. You know, the type of thing Edmonton would downsize or never build in the first place. Anyway, I'm here searching for Karen, my old roommate from Edmonton's heydays. Nobody is allowed to tell me where she is (she works here) or if she's even working today. They told me to phone her, but if she's working, what good would that do?
So, I'll see what else there is to see in Vancouver, drive back over the continental divide, and see what happens. See.