We somehow ended up in Vancouver. City of glass, city of rain, my home city where I was born and raised.
Our flight was cancelled and it was the one available flight to take us back into Canada.
We arrived exhilarated and I called an old friend to see if I could crash with him. He welcomed me with open arms and poured me a bourbon on ice. I explained the crap show of my life and we fell easily back into the comfortable space that only friends who have known each other since childhood can.
We dined with friends and then took off to a hotel bar to drink an old fashioned. While I was in the finest company, the environment reminded of the sterile nature of Vancouver and the low energy that drove me crazy as a teenager.
I've run hot and cold with Vancouver my whole life. I lived a happy childhood, a troubled adolescence, and a love struck adulthood there. It's where I grew up, where I grew frustrated, and where I fell in love. To this day it's a mix of comfort, highs and lows.
Catching up with old friends is now the one thing that draws me there. My family is all in Europe now, save for one brother who happened to be in Berlin at the time.
The next day I woke at 4 a.m. to get to work from the computer, and trudged to the airport around noon after a hearty breakfast with my beau.
Five hours later my standby ticket was torn up before my eyes. The flights were full and I had another six hours to burn. I decided the only right thing to do was to head to my favourite restaurant in Vancouver to drink the best cocktails I know, catch up with the best bartender in town and reunite with my dear girlfriend.
I don't know how long it will be before I return back to Vancouver but it was nice to have a taste of the rain and the city I left behind.
I fell asleep on the night flight over and woke up to grab a taxi home and right to work.
The weekend was a good reminder.
Of life, memories, good and bad, and where I want to go next.