I can’t think of another city as surrounded by beauty as Vancouver. The Pacific, the parks, the mountains, it’s all here. All massive and stunning. Nature feels inescapable. It wraps around anything man-made and treats it like Lego left behind by a child.

On my first day I explored Stanley Park. I started early to dodge the midday heat, but even by 11 it was heating up. The park is vast, with views across the Pacific where whales play and ancient stories of the First Nations cut into the present. Joggers and cyclists looped around, but I was content to take it slow. I’d done the same walk ten years ago with my brother, and sometimes I’d get flashes of memory as if he were beside me again (he’s not dead he’s in Europe with a family of his own).

Vancouver is where being a solo traveller became apparent, now that I was no longer surrounded by family as I was in Edmonton. These views and memories I was creating were mine alone. There will be no one to turn to and say “remember Vancouver.” I’ve been single almost my whole life, and now at 37 I wonder if this is simply how it will be for the rest of it. I’m starting to realise that I’ve been carrying a certain amount of sadness about that recently, but maybe this trip is my way of making peace with it.

Not that I was alone the whole time. A friend I’d met at Glastonbury now lives here, and we caught up on two evenings for food and drinks and had a great time. Some of the food was outstanding: gnocchi at Nook the best I’ve ever had; and Arctic Char at The Sandbar on Granville Island, caught fresh that day was another gastronomical highlight.

I also gave time amongst all the nature for human creation: the Art Gallery, Science World, and Granville’s artisan shops and studios. Wherever we are, humans make things as ways of responding to the world around us. With the amount of beauty in and around Vancouver it’s hard not to respond by trying to create something of your own. I’d like to come back here again soon.