The Mountaineers

Uncovering urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

They set out in good spirits. Their bags were packed with nourishment and sustenance for the hard journey ahead. The weather forecast implied a chance of rain and sunshine, which usually is as good as it gets in Vancouver. Moreover, given the 50/50 nature of this prediction, there was no way it could be wrong...

This would truly be an excellent day to conquer the heights of Bowen Island's fearsome peak that rose 2480 feet above sea level: Mount Gardner.

The journey to base camp was said to be rough and perilous. It would require the group to acquire a ship willing to take them over the rough seas to the dark and sinister hamlet of 'Snug Cove'. Despite being warned of the quality of the vessels available in Horseshoe Bay, the group decided to take its chances and nevertheless, embarked on the trip.

Brooding weather ahead

Snug Cove was as grim as its name implies. Upon arrival, the group was met with the smell of undefined meat being roasted on barbecues and warning signs indicating the wicked nature of the Cove. As quickly as possible, the hardy group left the hamlet... Sadly, the evil coming from “Snug” was spread out everywhere: The countryside around Snug was littered with the most gruesome poaching devices , defiled with free “doggy bags” dispensers and spoiled with picknic tables.

As they left the Snug area behind, the group of mountaineers thought they found some reprieve at the tranquil shores of Killarney Lake. However, their peace was short lived as they encountered the ferocity of the local wildlife, the Killarney duck. Bowen Island is host to many of Canadia's most dangerous beasts. The Killarney duck is one of more dangerous ones, only outdone in human casualties by the Bowen Slimy Slug, the Red Furry Woodpecker and the Imaginary Black Bowen Cave Bear.

Killarney Lake, with the ferocious duck hiding behind the tree

Barely making it through the duck encounter without severe casualties, the mountaineers set onwards.

The road upward was steep and filled with brutal challenges. The mountaineers had to conquer gaping chasms over a dangerous stream, bypass deceptive swamps, evade deep pits and climb until their limbs were sore and tired... then climb some more until their energy was completely spent... then climb even further until their legs could no longer support their weight. It was vile slaughter.

Despite the hardships nature threw at them, they remained resilient. Whenever their spirits seemed to fail, they told themselves they would find the peak of the mountain around the next corner, just behind the next patch of trees or beyond that vertical ridge. One more step, one more climb ...

Whether they made it to the top or not is unknown. But that's not the point; it is not the destination that matters, it's the road to that destination. It's about overcoming the challenging hardships on that road. It's about going beyond the limitations of one's own fragile human corpus and achieving things one could have never imagined. It's about knowing that despite the worst that could and will happen, there will always, inevitably, be an end to that the road where a snug pub is waiting to sell you overpriced but cool beer and cheesy nachos (or even a burger).

the south-side outlook

Somewhat in the appropriate spirit of subtext feelings... Despair.com

Book update: Bourne Ultimatum, Children of Hurin and JPod

Some reclusion this time, movies and books, the written and filmed entertainment, the illusive formats of storytelling. Downtown Vancouver is host to plenty of bookstores and movie theaters and either form of entertainment is within hand's reach. Literally around the corner there's both a cinema and a bookstore. A little bit further away are bigger three-floor-versions of the said establishments, featuring more choices and variations. This week it's book time.

J.R.R. Tolkien: Children of Hurin

Tolkien's son brings us a collection the notes and unfinished work of his father turned into “the Children of Hurin”.

The Children of Hurin is not a happy book. The book takes place long before the Lord of the Rings. Lord Hurin finds himself amongst the losing party of the ongoing war on Evil (tm). The book sees an alliance of Elves, Men and Dwarfs get their collective assess royally whooped by Morgoth (big boss of all evil – including Sauron).

To remind Hurin how much Morgoth has PWNed his royal rear-end, he curses him and his family. Hurin is chained to an uncomfortable stone chair and is forced to watch his son, Turin, grow up.

The curse turns Turin in quite a screw up, making one mistake after the other. Turin finds a home amongst the Elves, but he ends up killing one of them and is forced to flee. Turin becomes leader of a band of outlaws. Being quite a pesky lot, Morgoth decides to capture Turin. Given the vast forces at Morgoth's disposal, capturing a bunch of outlaws isn't that big of a deal. Naturally Turin gets rescued by his best Elven friend and thanks him in kind: he accidentally kills him.

After a couple of more tragedies, Turin ends falling in love and shagging his sister. Both of them decide to kill themselves for different reasons. Happy with the outcome of these events, Morgoth finally releases Hurin from his prison.

The overall story is gripping and definitely leaves an impression but the pace and style are sometimes painfully weak. The tale is stuttering along, alternating between dragging the reader through irrelevant details and then breezing through major developments. The style often struck me as either immature or vastly outdated. The characters, with the exception of Hurin himself, seem overly simplistic and underdeveloped.

After reading more and more Tolkien, I'm slowly starting to wonder if the Lord of the Rings (LotR) was a mere lucky strike. The book offers an interesting dark contrast to the lighthearted Hobbit, but like The Silmarillion, it is dreadfully slow and often simply uninteresting. Although the Children of Hurin is less pretentious and a little bit more accessible than The Silmarillion, I fear this for Tolkien fans only.

Ludlum; "The Bourne Ultimatum"

Everyone probably knows the Bourne movies. Probably everyone but me knew that there's an entire series of books devoted to this Bourne character. The 'Bourne: Ultimatum' starts off with a retired Bourne. Now known as David Webb, professor in things Asian, Bourne has found relative peace in his life.

Too bad for him but happy things don't make interesting stories. It doesn't take long before Bourne / Webb finds himself on the hit-list of an evil super assassin, called Carlos “the Jackal”. The Jackal has some compensation issues going on, and feels he can only prove himself by killing the greatest assassin on the world: Jason Bourne. Bourne decides that the only way to keep his family save, is to draw the Jackal out and take him down himself. The story goes through a one on one, one on many, many on many battle that spans the globe.

I'm not a big spy fan, but this was an entertaining read. It features an interesting setup, where small schemes lead to issues that explode beyond the capabilities of the main character. Bourne also remains fallible throughout the book, making mistakes and misguided decisions. Both the limited capabilities and the imperfection of Bourne, help keeping a balance between the inspiring super hero aura of Bond or Bauer (is it a coincidence, their names all start with a 'B') and the believability of a mere human being. It's a tense balance, and the character development is rather sloppy here and there. The main characters sometimes seem to be conveniently subject to whatever the story needs, rather than the driven by a consistent set of beliefs / desires / intentions. This left me with a feeling that events are sometimes a bit random and contrived.

The third installment of the movie comes out somewhere this summer. The funny thing is that storyline of the movie, does not have that much to do with the book . Sure: there's the spy genre, a super assassin who forgot who he was, as well as some overlordish organization that is acting according to a not so humane and philanthropical agenda... but the book takes place in the late cold-war era and focusses on lethal rivalry between an aging Bourne and a lethal “Jackal” as well as the family life complications spies endure. The novel is good, let's see if the movie delivers as well.

Coming up: JPod

The Sandy Coasts of Van

Uncovering of the urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

The weather out here in West North America is defined as that state of the world between the periods of rain. It's a pleasant surprise when the Sun decides to peek her head out from behind the everlasting gray skies and blesses Canadia with some of her most divine beams (please take some time to recite that last line a couple of times, until you got the intonation right; meaning flowery and baroque (*)). But when it does, it causes a massive displacement of large segments of the local population... to the Vancouver Beaches.

Vancouver as seen from Jerico Beach

There's nothing typical Canadian about a beach trip though, the Canadian Beach Experience is pretty much the same as in the rest of the Western world. Elderly people hang out in full attire, hat, jacket and whatever else may guard you from the possible ravages of the elemental conditions. Parents drag their kids to the shorelines to make those amazing shapeless architectures (and each of those creations is without any question high grade photographable material). And any other age category strips down to the bare minimum, to show off his or her curves to gain the attention of the other sex.

The safety of the people who feel like swimming, is guarded by experienced life guards in the well known red outfit. In case one would decide to drown, these people will wheel up their classical live saving devices off the beach, and row towards the rescue in a speedy fashion. Given the antiquity of both device and operator, my guess is that this measure serves other purposes than the good old fashioned rescue. The mission statement of this life saving operation will probably linger somewhere between “good intentions” and making sure “the bodies don't clutter up the boat-routes further out”.

David Hasselhoff's dad and his faithfull boat look after the swimmers

Vancouver has an abundance of sandy coast lines, and many of them are named and identified as a “beach”. A quick look at any Vancouver map provides us with a host of colourfull names like Locarno Beach, Jerico Beach, Kitsalano Beach, Sunset Beach, Iona Beach to name a few. The Sunset Beach in particular offers a breathtaking sunset on a regular basis (I leave it to Captain Obvious to draw any conclusions with regards to the name).

One particular interesting part on Sunset Beach is the Inukshuk on the west point. It's a stone landmark used as a milestone or directional marker by the Inuit of the Canadian Arctic and means "something which acts for or performs the function of a person.". [Wikipedia] You'll probably going to see it somewhat more around 2010, as it's the official logo of the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.

the Inukshuk

Another interesting sight is the abundance of palm trees along the boulevard of Sunset beach. Given the right time of the day and light, one can easily forget this is Canada and not some subtropical destination. In case one does get slightly misplaced ideas, just wait a day ... Soon enough the skies will cloud up again, to bring another one of those refreshing rainy episodes. Thus putting both of ones feet firmly on the puddled Canadian ground. As the Candians say: one hairy dry moose doesn't mean the summer is here yet, eh ?

(*) No I have no idea what I'm saying there either

Why it's better here than there

Battlestar Canadia

The weekly uncovering of the urban lifestyle, contemporary trends and other (Canadian) peculiarities from a totally biased and nonobjective European perspective. Infiltration, intrigues, wonder and more ...

very now and then life grants little breaks which add some colour and flavour to the ongoing daily grind. Like that huge pile of steaming dog shit, left behind on the sidewalk you just missed stepping in. The sweaty coworker who finally discovered the meaning and use of deodorant. A recipe that goes horribly wrong but turns out to be better than the original. Last week granted me with one of those...

The email from a friendly and informed coworker read (paraphrased): “FYI tomorrow the television series Battlestar Galactica (BSG) will be recording an episode two blocks away from Radical. The episode will feature a war zone and they will apply the necessary amount of explosions and other pyrotechnics. The good people of the Vancouver fire department and police will see to it nothing bad happens.”

The Cylons have a plan...

Television doesn't hold much appeal to me. Not entirely because I don't even own one (in Canada) but BSG is amongst the few precious series I follow with a passion. As such, the said email gave me that same feeling many of us used to get the night before your birthday... I didn't get much sleep due to all the anticipation and excitement.

In my head, I was already walking on the set amongst all those interesting characters the show features: Starbuck, Boomer, Six. Naturally they would be impressed by my elusive charisma and stunning appearance. It wouldn't be long before they would convince the director to take me on the show to act out the more intimate scenes.

Chantalle, however, didn't quite cooperate.

Chantalle is the producer assistant and soon-to-be-famous screenplay writer who, for the time being, guards the entrance to the set of BSG. She struck me as a genuinely interesting person. Prior to BSG, she has “done” a number of movies and series of which I only recall the Fantastic Four. And that was thanks to her somewhat funny anecdote regarding the director´s obsession to keep the appearance of a pivotal character in that movie a secret.

Chantalle, guarding and blocking the way between me and my destiny.

Despite my best attempt of sucking up to her, she wouldn't let us anywhere near the actual set. The best she could do was to show us the schedule for the day which I suspect, she is allowed to do to give the “fans” at the gates the impression they actually seen something relevant. To me, it was a piece of paper with a font so small, I could only barely make out the word “pilot”.

Kept outside in the blazing sun... No Starbuck, no Boomer, no Six. One disillusion richer.

Regardless of the shattered dream, there was no reason for disappointment. It was easy enough to take some shots of the outside of the set, which featured a crafty hole in wall and a huge yellow crane with some cameras. Also, I got some close-up shots of the stars' trucks and trailers, which are impressively white and endlessly fascinating. It turned out to be a fruitful lunch break that yielded plenty of blog material and as far as the broken dream; it's nothing Photoshop can't fix.

Dream retained; in the background the actual set.

For those boring hours, when you should be working.