Paris 2024
I cannot lie. Paris 2024 hit all the right notes for me.
I love the spectacle of the Olympics. The biggest sporting event on the planet bringing together thousands of athletes from more than 200 countries to compete in dozens of sports never fails to catch my attention, whether it’s in my own city or in one far away.
I especially loved the historical setting of these Olympics, which were hosted by my second-favourite city in the world. The iconic competition venues with magnificent backdrops like the Eiffel Tower or Château de Versailles never let any of us forget where these games were taking place.
The Opening Ceremonies (yes, yes, I know, but les Français, they’re just so … French) weren’t held in some generic sports stadium, but in the centre of Paris itself, putting the City of Light on display. The Olympic Cauldron (like Vancouver’s Olympic Cauldron) was accessible to Parisian residents and visitors alike from its location in the Jardin des Tuileries, where it aligned with key landmarks: the Louvre, Place de la Concorde, and the Arc de Triomphe. In a nod to history, the fuel-free cauldron was built in the shape of a hot air balloon to commemorate the first-ever flight by humans, which took place over Paris in 1783.
Even the medals are historical: each one contains a piece of the Eiffel Tower. (The fragments of iron were left over from renovation work done over the years.)
And if you doubt that the City of Love has special powers, remember this record set by athletes during Paris 2024: the most number of marriage proposals ever at an Olympic games (seven).
It’s always difficult for me to choose just one photo when I write about Paris, but then I found this and knew it was the one. That’s the Tour Montparnasse as seen from the Arc de Triomphe. I took this photo in the summer of 2017, mere weeks before Paris was announced as the host city for the XXXIII Olympiad.
Happy Canada Day!
I was looking through my photos for an appropriate one to post for Canada Day when I came across this one. It’s a bit dated, but I’m thinking it works, this year in particular.
Why, you might ask?
Because our country has been hockey mad for the past two months.
Just over a week ago (why does it feel so much longer?), a German friend and I were chatting back and forth by email. He mentioned that Euro 2024 (which Germany is hosting this summer) was dominating their lives at the moment — had I heard about it?
I had, I replied, and then I invited him to visit me in 2026, when Vancouver will be hosting seven games of the FIFA World Cup.
Then I wrote this:
The big game that Canada is focused on happens tomorrow. Hockey (or ice hockey, as you call it). The Stanley Cup playoffs involve four rounds of best-of-seven games. Tomorrow is Game 7 of the final round, with the team from Edmonton playing a team from Florida. Canada has not won the Stanley Cup in 31 years. If Edmonton is able to win tomorrow, this country will lose its mind.
Sadly, our email chat ends with this brief message from me the following morning:
HEARTBREAK ACROSS CANADA. ☹
I’m never sure if my non-Canadian friends understand how much hockey is part of our national identify. It was certainly clear to me last week. The entire country had hopped on the bandwagon — even people who don’t care about hockey were making plans to watch the game.
It reminded me of another hockey game that once gripped the country’s attention: the Men’s Hockey Gold Medal game during the Vancouver 2010 Olympics. When Canada pulled off a win against the United States, the biggest-ever block party took over Vancouver’s downtown core.
I took this photo during those same Olympics. It’s from a hockey game between Germany and Canada, which could in no way be considered a nail-biter — Canada trounced Germany 8 to 2 — but it was still electric inside the arena and so much fun to be there.
If Edmonton had won the Stanley Cup this year, you can be sure it would be part of the Canada Day celebrations somehow somewhere today. But, even without the Cup, we can still celebrate the fact that we got to watch some really good hockey.
And, of course, there’s always next year.
Through My Lens: Tree Bathing
In what seems to have become an annual event, I was once again camping at Little Qualicum Falls with my extended family a couple of weeks ago. A good time was had by all as we enjoyed all the rituals of a weekend in the Canadian forest: hiking, swimming, s’mores around the campfire …
Also tree bathing. The Douglas firs do take your breath away.
Happy Birthday, Arthur Erickson!
Architecture, as I see it, is the art of composing spaces in response to existing environmental and urbanistic conditions to answer a client’s needs. In this way the building becomes the resolution between its inner being and the outer conditions imposed upon it. It is never solitary but is part of its setting and thus must blend in a timeless way with its surroundings yet show its own fresh presence.
— Arthur Erickson
Google “world’s top architects” and he doesn’t merit so much as a mention, but Arthur Erickson is arguably Canada’s best internationally known architect. He was born in Vancouver 100 years ago today.
After serving in the Canadian Army during and after World War II, Erickson had plans to become a diplomat, but his interests turned to architecture upon seeing the work of Frank Lloyd Wright. He completed his studies at UBC, went on to McGill, and also studied in the Middle East, Greece, Italy, and Japan. In 1962, after a decade spent teaching and designing, he opened his Vancouver-based architecture firm in partnership with Geoffrey Massey. After they won the competition to design Simon Fraser University, there was no stopping him.
Some say that Erickson’s architecture should be as well known as Margaret Atwood’s novels or Emily Carr’s paintings. Certainly his buildings have shaped the look of Vancouver. Erickson also shaped architects — many moved to Vancouver to work under his mentorship.
Centenary events are happening throughout Vancouver this summer. My own commemoration will consist of a series of blog posts about some of his most important Vancouver projects.
But, to begin, today I’m posting about the only building of his that I’ve photographed outside of Canada. That would be the Canadian Embassy in Washington, DC.
I don’t usually make a point of checking out Canadian embassies during my travels (unless required to, as happened during an unfortunate episode while in London on route to Paris — that’s a story I keep meaning to tell but haven’t gotten around to yet). However, I can attest that the Canadian Embassy in Washington is magnificent, and definitely worth a look-see.
If you’ve ever visited Washington, you know it’s a sea of Neoclassicist buildings. Erickson had to work under a series of restrictions so that the building he designed did not stand out too much from its surroundings.
As you approach the embassy, its façade is imposing, but not severely so. The Rotunda of the Provinces and Territories consists of 12 pillars, representing 10 provinces and two territories. (Nunavut was not yet in existence when the embassy was built.)
The waterfall that surrounds the rotunda is meant to represent Niagara Falls, the world-famous waterfall that straddles the Canada–US border.
In the courtyard, resting in a pool of water, is the bronze statue Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Black Canoe by Bill Reid. (A second casting of the same sculpture, Spirit of Haida Gwaii, the Green Canoe, is in the International Terminal at YVR Airport.)
The embassy opened in 1989 and is located on Pennsylvania Avenue between the United States Capital and the White House.
The Northern Lights
The whole world, it seems, was caught up with the light show happening in the skies above two nights ago, thanks to a geomagnetic storm on our nearest star. I myself jumped on the bandwagon and took a walk down to the beach around 11 p.m. to see what I could see.
To be honest? I was a little disappointed. As soon as I stepped out into my street, I looked up and saw a green haze overhead, visible even with all the light pollution generated in my neighbourhood, one of the most densely-populated postal codes in all of Canada. Down by the water, where it’s much darker, I could see that the haze was definitely aurora borealis, but it was faint. I set up my tiny camera on my tiny tripod, balanced it on a beach log, and tried a variety of exposures. This photo, taken with a 30-second exposure, was the best of the lot. The only editing I did was some cropping. That pink you see? Not visible to the naked eye. It only comes through with the long exposure.
Some years ago, I was travelling from Nanaimo to Vancouver late at night, and spent most of the ferry trip on the outer deck in the dark, watching a vivid display of dancing emerald green over the North Shore mountains. At the time, I didn’t know what I was looking at, but later realized it must have been the Northern Lights I had witnessed.
I didn’t know what I was looking at because it’s rare to see the Northern Lights this far south. In Alberta, they were almost routine. I remember many a winter’s night in Edmonton seeing white streaks of light in the sky like will-o’-wisps as I went about my evening.
The most spectacular Northern Lights’ display I’ve ever seen, and my first time seeing them in colour, was one summer while camping in northern Alberta with my sister and a friend. This was the same friend I had trained around Europe with the year before, and she and I started reminiscing about our travels as we sat around the campfire. My sister had long gone to bed when we noticed the Northern Lights above us. The mesmerizing dance of pink and green was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
I was kinda hoping for the same the other night. My suspicions are that the light pollution of downtown Vancouver interfered with my experience.
Even so, we got lucky this weekend with summer-like temperatures, so it didn’t take much effort to step out for a quick stroll before bed, and share an amazing other-worldly experience with dozens of strangers doing the same.
Danger: Thin Ice
We had our week of winter this past week and we got it all: polar vortex, Arctic outflow, and 28 centimetres of snow.
That’s the most snow we’ve had in one go since 1996, but the sad reality is any amount of snow pretty much shuts down the city and makes the national news.
And the rest of Canada laughs.
The sustained colder temperatures made for some thin ice conditions. This is Lost Lagoon. And yes, the kids were playing pond hockey at the other end of the lagoon the day before the snow fell. I like my ice a little thicker, but I’m sure it made for some lasting memories for those kids who did get out on the ice.
Merry Christmas!
Burrard Street, Vancouver
Lights at Lafarge
There used to be a lovely light display in English Bay every winter. An orca, a heron, a tree. Also a bear and a beaver that I never got around to photographing.
But those beautiful lights did not come back last year, nor this year. I don’t know why they’re gone, but I sure do miss them.
Last year, feeling bereft, I went looking for an alternative light display. I found one, all the way out in Coquitlam. Lights at Lafarge is the largest free outdoor holiday light display in Metro Vancouver and is held every year at Lafarge Lake, a small pond created from an old quarry.
I convinced two friends to join me and one evening we rode the Skytrain all the way to the end of the line. The lake and its light display are located next to the station.
The trail forms a loop just over a kilometre long. Its flat and paved surface means it is both wheelchair- and stroller-friendly.
I didn’t get myself organized in time to post these photos last year, so I’m posting them for this month’s season of light. Although taking the Skytrain all the way to Coquitlam is a bit of a trek compared to walking down the street to my beach, Lights at Lafarge is definitely worth the trip.
Through My Lens: Golden Maple on Lost Lagoon
It’s been a while since I’ve posted a photo of our fall colours. And so, here’s one that I took a couple of weeks ago.
My West End
Last August, I had my cat-sitters over one evening for a picnic dinner to thank them for watching over my fur babies while I was away in Alberta. As soon as they arrived, we gathered up the dinner and some beach blankets and headed to the end of my street.
The end of my street is a grassy, treed spot between two beaches, never crowded but with a perfect view of the sunset. As a backyard, it’s great — even though I share it with the entire neighbourhood. At one point during the evening, I looked around at the dozens of people enjoying their own picnics, and marvelled at how much I love where I live, and that, even after living here for a quarter of a century, I have yet to tire of it.
Yup, you read that right. Twenty-five years ago today, I moved into my first apartment in the West End. And as long as I’ve been writing and posting on this blog, I’ve been sharing photos and stories about my home. It’s why I called the blog There and Back Again.
Because I always come back.
In honour of this momentous anniversary, here are some of my favourite, previously unposted, photos of my West End.
There and Back Again 