Dispatch from the Canadian Conference

The second full day of my conference continues! The topic of the conference is clinical research quality and standards. It is about as riveting as you would expect. Multiple sessions are going on at once, so it is basically a Choose Your Own Adventure. Unfortunately, there have been times that I've chosen poorly and was bored out of my mind. Forced day-dreaming is sometimes a challenge. Jamie was the wiser and played solitaire on his blackberry.

But there have been a few gems at this conference: there have been a few characters and some swag from the vendors trying to get us to use their services. I am the proud owner of a magic 8 ball, several pens, an inflatable travel neck pillow, and the best of the bunch, this little stationery kit with mini-staplers. No designer jeans or fancy chocolates, for sure. Also, I went to a talk on ethics by a man dressed like a younger KFC Colonel: white shirt, suit, shoes and even a handlebar moustache. He also spoke as if he were Mark Twain, so I found myself focusing more on his performance (he couldn't be for reals, could he?) than what he was actually saying. Another speaker had a strong resemblance to Melissa Ethridge--same accent and all. She had several slides with pictures of her dog in them.

Last night we explored some more neighborhoods of Vancouver, eating dinner at a nice local recommended spot (thanks, dude who worked at the Fluevog shoe store!) in Gastown. The area is the "birthplace of Vancouver" and the original settlement sprung up around a tavern opened by "Gassy Jack" Deighton. It's a historic district with cobblestone streets and some European charm. It also has the very first steam-run clock that toots every 15 minutes.

One thing we've noticed about Vancouver is that they have their share of homeless people. We were approached several times, including one guy who wanted 82 cents and an older woman with a black eye who was pushing a very wide shopping cart and sipping a very grande (or is it venti?) frappacchino.

Tonight we are heading to another section of downtown Vancouver to see a film that's an entry in the Vancouver Film Festival.

Oh, Canada!

I am currently in Vancouver for a work conference (riveting, I know.) Having grown up in MN, I've been to Canada many times, but it's been years since my last visit to our northern neighbors. This is my first time in Vancouver to boot--and even better that it is on my work's dime!

I've only heard good things about Vancouver. It's my second full day here and I don't have any major complaints about the city except that the damp chill can be a bit miserable at times. Also, my extremely overpriced hotel does not include breakfast--for $167 a night, the least they could do is buy a girl breakfast, no?

Although Canada is very similar to the U.S., there is still the excitement of exploring an unfamiliar city. I'm never certain what proper protocol is--for example, as a New Yorker, I don't even think twice about about jay-walking. But in Vancouver, is this sort of behavior acceptable or will the Mounties come after me on horseback? I don't want to experience some sort of Canadian version of Brokedown Palace...

I haven't had a chance to see much of the sights yet, but I did find the Whole Foods, Dairy Queen and nearest two 7-Elevens. I also took a long stroll along the sea wall which follows along the harbour and Stanley Park, one of the largest urban public parks in North America. Running through the park is a stream that empties into the harbor. Various types of salmon take this stream into the harbor to reach the Pacific (freedom!), as well as to come back when it's time to spawn. Salmon return to their home stream based on the scent of the water. Becasue of this, at the time of the great salmon exodus into the Pacific and the subsequent return to spawn in the fall, the park puts some chemical into the water to add additional scent. This gives an extra boost to ensure the salmon can find their way back. It makes sense, but I can't help but being a little saddened for all that work to get the salmon back only to end up on my dinner plate.