Three days ago we cleared out of our spot in Gastown. A friend of a friend had heard about the demise of the ‘Silver Bullet’ along with all the comprehensively-insured gear we lost, that was covered for everything except fire, and offered us his pad for two weeks while he was driving through Utah taking pics of all the stunning National Parks. All he asked for in return is that we fill his fridge with beer, a request which I took quite seriously.

It was a small bachelor outfit on the 7th floor, across the road from a low class strip club and a fire station. It was also part of what they call “Crack-Town” here in Canada…a phenomenon I shall delve into in a short while.

Fausto and I took turns alternating between the double bed and the blow up camping mattress. We only had a hand held single action pump, and learnt very quickly that leaving the pumping of the ‘blow-up’ to the last minute before you want to crash was a significant cardio session, and was therefore counter-effective when trying to sleep. I slept with the pump in my hand because the mattress had a slow leak. You’d find yourself touching the floor every hour or so and this made giving her a quick top up less admin.

Our brains had courteously faded out the frequencies of the perpetual wailing from the fire engines / ambulances within three or four days, but the one thing we battled to become accustomed to was the night-tie activities of these ‘Crack-Heads’ as they are referred to.

Crack-Town refers to a designated area in Downtown Vancouver where all the Crack Heads congregate. The reason for this is that the government provides clean needles, a safe haven for getting high as well as medical attention in what is known as the “Insight Program”. The benefits of such a program range from being able to confine these activities to a designated section of town, re-habilitation, prevention of the spread of spiking relate disease etc. I have several friends who have written papers on the program and if you would like to know more, please let me know. But I shall not get into the political aspects of such an endeavour at this stage.

My point for the purpose of this blog is simply that we were living above one of these safe havens and were witness to some pretty disturbing events. Walking home was always intense because you would pass heaps of strung out folk, either in the climax of a high because they’d shot up right there on the street, or begging for smokes / change. If you had a quarter for each time you were approached you’d be a millionaire.

In the beginning, I was highly tense because I kept thinking I was about to get mugged, but the reality was in fact that they were harmless, quite educated and in fact…polite. It is scary to see how fine the line can be between success and life on the streets, it seems as though some of these guys took maybe one wrong turn, and just couldn’t make it back. I take so much for granted, and it is only when I saw the sheer volume of people that are living this way, intensely addicted to something they most probably hate, I get a new perspective on why I run my ship the way I do.

Fausto and I joke that if there is one thing we learned in the last two weeks, it is how to recognise some-one who is on crack within an instant purely based on body language.

But Gastown isn’t all like that. It is full of budget youth hostels, young traveller’s, trendy clothing stores, night clubs and restaurants. It is the more ‘undiscovered’ part of Vancouver in the sense that not many people know about how much it has to offer. Granville Street, for example, is like the Long Street of Vancouver, except with a more pretentious vibe to it…brand names, retardedly expensive booze and fights here and there. Gastown is more like Obz in Cape Town…or Newtown in Jozi.

There is one venue, for example, by the name of ‘Guilt’. The story goes that they pair up musicians that have never met before. The rule is simply no cover songs and no originals. Everything has to be made up on the spot. The guys come off stage confused and exhausted after 3 hours of impromptu song making. We loved our stay in Gas-Town, people were so friendly, once we stopped and asked for directions from a couple on a restaurant patio, they insisted that we each had a slice of their Pizza’s and insisted on taking us out and paying for all our drinks. Now I know Fausto is extremely good looking, but they were a couple! I was just constantly bowled over by the treatment we received – perhaps people just like foreigners.

In any case, the last couple days in Vancouver were manic. I had several gigs, farewell’s had to be done, equipment returned, financials sorted along with a whole bunch of admin that goes with couch surfing.

On top of that we were filming a music video with two other artists from different towns for a song I had co-written whilst in Vancouver. The song needed to be acceptably recorded which cost a fair bit, but Fausto and I plan to go out with a bang and so it will all be worth it in the end. It is difficult to pull of these types of operations in a city where you don’t know many, have restricted access to resources and you realise fast that your priorities are not shared by the local folk.

All this stress and discomfort that we have been through, I have learned to welcome. That is what life on the road is about, and more so, it is what I wanted. I got a heavy dose of what I asked for. It is often the case that you realise only when you get what you asked for, that it is not in fact what you desire, but I do not feel that way. I think it is hard to paint the picture of what we have been through the last two weeks without sounding as though I am complaining, but it is certainly not the case. That is the perspective that living in GasTown gave me, which I value so dearly.

I am not writing today as someone who is upset that they did not achieve all of the exact goal’s they set out to do, but rather as a person who had a dream that they hit head on. In this process, I was fortunate enough to forge life altering human connections and now I return home, my mind ticking over perpetually untangling, eager to extract the most valuable insights and lessons and being plans to do this all over again.

That’s all for now,

LoneRaynger out.