Crossing Borders Illegally from Argentina to Brazil / Paraguay

Yesterday was my first full day in the Iguazu Falls region.  I had arrived the day before from Buenos Aires by plane and had gathered information about this area and about how to move around its different parts.  So, after waking up early and eating a little of the crappy (but free) breakfast served where I was staying, I took a bus at the Puerto Iguazu bus station around 8:30.  The bus marked "Paraguay" was operated by "Cruzero del Norte" and cost 20 Argentinian pesos (around 2 USD) to board.

I must admit that I was a little nervous.  After all, my plan was to enter in both Paraguay and Brasil illegally, that is, without going through customs and immigration, and without paying the "reciprocity fee" of 160 USD that Canadians are required to pay to enter legally in Paraguay, nor getting the expensive (~80 USD) visa Canadians must get to legally enter Brazil.

At any rate, the bus I was in looked like a typical city "colectivo".  Judging from the looks of the people on board, I was the only passenger who wasn't from a Mercosur country (that is, the only one who would normally have needed to do something special to get into Paraguay).  We picked up a few more passengers on our way to the Argentinian border exit control.  For some reason, all the countries in South America I've been to control not only entries but also exits.  Because of this (and to re-enter Argentina upon return), I brought my passport.  At the border control, we all went off the bus, got our papers inspected and/or passports stamped and then were promptly on our way.

Back on the bus, we crossed the Iguazu river over a bridge and into Brazil.  I was nervous at that point because I feared we would be controlled at the Brazilian border as well.  However, since our bus was headed to Paraguay and was not meant to make any stops in Brazil, we simply entered the country without stopping at the border.  This is all very lax and people can and do stop in Brazil all the time.  So, if you are in Argentina and want to go to the Brazilian side of the Iguazu Falls (without paying for a Brazilian visa), you can simply take the bus to Paraguay from Puerto Iguazu (in Argentina) and get off in Foz do Iguaçu (in Brazil).

But my intention was to go to Ciudad del Este in Paraguay first and then go to the Brazilian side of the Iguazu falls.  Therefore, I enjoyed reading the signs in Portuguese while in Brazil until we reached the Puente de la Amistad (Friendship Bridge) which links Brazil to Paraguay.  Actually, most of the trip from Argentina to Paraguay takes place in Brazil.  Crossing over the bridge is slow as it is chock full of cars, trucks and buses, many of them making their way across to benefit from the lower prices and taxes in Paraguay.  That border crossing is a real joke.  So many people cross that bridge, but few (if any) get controlled at the border.  The bridge is a huge conduit for smuggling (either of legal goods to avoid duty fees, or of outright illegal goods).  I got in Paraguay without needing to do anything particular.  Just like everybody else, I just got in.

Shopping starts right at the border in Paraguay

From what I experienced in Ciudad del Este, I'd venture to say that Paraguay is a crap country.  Once inside the country, some of the passengers on my bus got off (before we got to the bus station) with contraband they had stashed under their seats.  One lady had enough stuff to fill a car.  I'm guessing those goods are later headed to Brasil.  Later, after completing the trip, I saw people living in squalid conditions around the bus station.  These people were living in dwellings constructed out of discarded wooden pallets and garbage bags.  Going back to the center of the city (which is basically where the bridge to Brazil is located), I saw hordes of people peddling cheap products and/or knockoffs everywhere.  This is the kind of place where taking the bus means people come in and try to push crap products on you or beg money from you at about every city block and where walking around means it's likely you'll stumble upon a dirty child flat out sleeping on the pavement of a sidewalk.  It's also worth noting that US dollars, Argentinian pesos, Brazilian reais and Paraguayan guaranis are accepted as currencies of payment for just about everything.

Ciudad del Este

When I grew tired of the chaotic poverty and of the hustle and bustle, I decided it was time for me to head to Brazil to see the Iguazu Falls from that country's side.  As I was walking my way to cross back over the bridge, a motorcycle taxi driver approached me and asked me if I wanted a ride to cross.  He asked for 5 Brazilian reais or 3 US dollars.  I'm sure I could have haggled over the price, but for such amounts, I didn't feel like bothering.  So I donned a helmet and we zig-zagged through the traffic over the bridge, avoiding other motorcycles going in all directions, and circumventing trucks and cars.  I must confess that I held on tight as some of the maneuvers my driver did seemed quite dangerous for the North American driver that I am.  On a few occasions, I also felt my clothes and my boots touch cars.  There was no border control back into Brazil.  One has to wonder why Brazil is so open at that border.  So much tax revenue is lost on smuggled goods.

Once in Brazil, I hopped on a bus that took me to the urban transit terminal next to the Bosque Guarani Zoological Park in Foz do Iguaçu.  From there, I took bus 120 straight to the falls (for less than 2 USD).  Before doing so, however, I went to an ATM, got some Brazilian reais and changed most of them to Argentinian pesos at a rate way better than the official one (as Argentina artificially maintains the exchange rate for its currency at nearly double its real worth).  I was happy to be back in a country where the government is not interfering so recklessly with the economy.

My dealings with the local population in Brazil were confusing in this sense that after a month of being in Spanish-speaking countries, my mind is used to interpreting and expressing itself in the language of Cervantes.  Brazil, with its Portuguese, was similar enough yet different enough to mess up with my Spanish.  That was interesting.

Iguaçu Falls (Brazilian Side)

Anyway, I visited the falls and played with some coatis.  Then it was time to go back to Argentina.  I took another "Cruzero del Norte" bus right next to (but not in) the urban transit terminal in Foz do Iguaçu.  Thankfully, there was a tourist information desk at the transit terminal that pointed me to the stop.  As the bus made its way back, I was nervous again.  Would there be problems at any border?  When we exited Brazilian without stopping at the border control, I felt a bit lighter.  Again, since that bus is not really meant to stop in Brazil, no checks are made from the authorities of that country.

Coatis

There was only one hurdle left:  Argentinian immigration.  As I said before, normally countries in South America stamp you out when you leave them.  I was afraid the Argentinians would ask me where I had been after I left the country and give me trouble.  To make it easy for the lady at the counter and to not give her too much time to think about my case, I prepared all my papers neatly and opened my passport at the page where my last Argentinian exit stamp was.  Typical of border agents, she had an austere look on her face.  After seeing my exit stamp, she proceeded to go through my passport page by page, examining each of them carefully.  Then, she asked her colleagues to come and look at my passport.  At that point, I was tense and was preparing to get grilled.  But then she said in Spanish to her co-workers, "The new Canadian passports are pretty cool; they have different pictures on each page"!

That was it; there was no problem at all!  I felt relieved and moved on with a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.  After I got back in Puerto Iguazu, it started pouring cats and dogs.  Thankfully I didn't have the rain bothering me during that adventurous day.  As usual, the gods had been with me all along.

Back in Vancouver

Again, I haven't written in a long while, mostly because I was too busy traveling around, and then because of the master's degree I undertook.

Again, I won't bother writing about my past stories because I feel they are old and stale by now. This means I won't write a post on what's good about Paris to counterbalance my previous blog entry.

After I left France last summer, I visited the following countries: Finland, Estonia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Portugal, Spain, Morocco, Andorra, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, the Netherlands and Belgium!

This brings the total number of countries inc which I've been to 34. Here's my personal international coverage map:



In my European adventure, I enjoyed Estonia and just loved Spain. Germany, Austria and the Netherlands are awesome too.

I now have a backlog of well over 10,000 pictures to process one way or another, some day or another.

After my glorious summer in Europe, I flew back to Montreal just long enough to pick up my stuff and go to Vancouver, where I am now doing a master's degree in finance. I haven't traveled much since September, given that grad school is keeping me quite busy. I did take some time to visit family in Hope, BC for Christmas and spent a few days in Seattle as well.

On a different note, with Facebook and other similar sites, blogging loses some of its significance. What I posted in the past was mostly for people somewhat close to me. However, given that they probably are in my list of Facebook friends anyway, I've decided to change the focus of my blog.

Instead of simply writing about my trips, I'll cover whatever I feel is relevant to potential readers on the web.

What's Bad About Paris

Warning: this post is just a looong regurgitation of negative impressions I had in Paris. For a more upbeat entry, skip to the next one in this blog.

The days leading up to my summer-long European expedition were stressful because I wasn't just leaving for a long trip; I was moving out of the city for good. However, on the day of my departure, I felt serene.

Quickly after landing, I got the impression that the Parisian region is just like a giant Bronx. There are lots of graffiti all over the place, palpable racial tension and lots of shady characters. Paris has that dog-eat-dog dynamic. It does have an American ghetto vibe. Just like in lower-income American neighborhoods, there are many Blacks, but the Latinos are replaced by Arabs from the Maghreb. Throw in some Eurothrash elements from the crappier countries of the EU and hordes of tourists, and it becomes very difficult to find ethnic French people in Paris.

It is obvious that France has issues with its immigration policy and social integration. That country seems to put more value on its immigrants speaking French than on them having specialized skills or capital. This leads France to welcome many people from its former African colonies who don't bring much to the country's social and economic fabric. This fosters xenophobia from the ethnic French who come to equate immigration with the degradation of their society. Sensing this perception, immigrants are easily alienated. No wonder Paris experienced racially charged riots a couple of years ago.

Contrast this with the Anglo-Saxon working model for immigration and social integration in which anybody bringing in skills or money is welcome. This less ethnocentric model is faring way better in countries such as the UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and even the US.

I am tempted to attribute France's social failures on its insistence in having immigrants speak its hard-to-learn language of limited global relevance. However, countries such as Denmark, Sweden and Norway have languages which are harder to learn and even more useless on the global stage, yet they more successfully (but far from perfectly) integrate immigrants into their societies.

Whatever the causes of France's social discordances, one thing is for sure: French civilization is on the decline (in case you had not noticed anything in the past 200 years).

Aside from the macro trends, here are some anecdotal cases of degeneration which I noticed during my week in Paris. Once, a guy was headed towards me on a collision course in a metro station because he wasn't looking where he was going. I put my arm in front of me in case of an impact and veered off to avoid him. When he saw my raised arm, he deliberately pushed me. I had to contain myself in order to do the reasonable thing and go on my way rather than satisfy my instinct to start a fight. On another occasion, I was walking towards a metro station when this guy asks me where it is located. I tell him I'm going there and that he can follow me. He tells me he's a Bengali refugee and quickly follows by saying that he can give me a satisfying "massage" if I'm interested! I just left him behind. On yet another metro trip, this apparently drugged up Maghrebian ghetto kid was drinking, singing and smoking on the train. Again in the metro, I saw this gang of half a dozen kids seemingly pickpocketing their way from wagon to wagon. Pickpocketing is a real problem in Paris with metro train conductors sometimes announcing on the PA system that thieves are operating in the current train. When it's not pickpockets, it's buskers who come on the trains with guitars or even trumpets and blast their way around for donations. Equally annoying are the beggars who come on the trains. There are so many of these pests because PEOPLE GIVE THEM MONEY!!!

Similarly, you'll find tons of hawkers near tourist sites. I wonder, first, what people dealing with beggars, buskers and hawkers are thinking. Don't they know that giving them money only encourages them to continue being nuisances for a living? Then, I wonder why the authorities are not doing anything to deal with these people. With the sheer number of these social parasites, the government could make millions handing out fines and it would go a long way in making Paris more pleasant. Many of the culprits also seem like illegal immigrants. I'm sure individuals would be less eager to peddle souvenirs if it meant possible deportation!

Then there are the scam artists operating all over. The classic scam consisting of following the marble under one of three cups being switched around is common. And one must keep an eye out for Gypsies. I had heard of them before as being the scum of Europe. Seeing so many of them pulling quick ones on tourists or trying to pity people out of some change, I understand how they got such a nasty reputation.

Then, you have the policies that don't make sense. France is notorious for its bureaucracy. Many things that could/should be simple are complicated in France. This is endemic both with the government and corporations. For example, you can walk into a grocery store with only one cash register open and a long line-up of people. Then you see half a dozen self-checkout stations but can't use any of them because two are reserved for some sort of food stamp program, two are reserved for holders of a certain card and two are hogged by people trying in vain to use the machines.

Corporate policies that don't make sense are one thing, but at least they punish the corporations pushing them. Bad government policies, on the other hand, just hurt the people. France is rife with those. France banned head scarves. This is manifestly targeted at Muslims. While I find head scarves to be ugly and religions (especially the Muslim one) to be stupid, I can't find any justification in having a government dictate what to or not wear. And ostracization doesn't do any good for cultural integration.

More government insanity... During my week in Paris, the government has banned any mention of Facebook and Twitter on television saying that such mentions constitute hidden advertisements. WTF!? First, mentioning a service you use is not advertisement. Second, you should have the right to advertise whatever you want. Third, this is censorship. Fourth, France is painting itself in a digital corner. Now, I don't know if this rule applies only to publicly funded television stations or to all stations. Regardless, it is retarded.

With such "logic", no wonder one needs to explicitly request for doors to open on the metro. Geez.

I'm sure it's another stupid government policy that makes it so that there are no convenience stores in Paris. Hell, I'd even go as far as saying there is no convenience at all in Paris.

And it's not just the shops... Sidewalks are too small and you are always cramped for space. It's the same on the metro. Apartments are tiny and overpriced. Food is expensive. Everything is expensive.

Why pay so much to be in such a place? Is it because it is beautiful? Except for a few nice, oversized spots that are not practical to walk through in every day life, Paris is much the same all over: old six or seven story masonry buildings. It quickly becomes boring.

So why would so many people pay so much to live in such a place? Well, I'm not personally convinced living in Paris is such a great thing, but it isn't all bad. More on this in my next post...

Between Asia and Europe

I haven't been very diligent with my travel blog. In my last entry, I left off in Hong Kong. After that, I went to Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Chengdu, JiuZhaiGou, Shanghai, Suzhou, then on to Nagoya and Tokyo before finding my way back to Hong Kong and flying back home to Montreal.

Later, for the new year, I spent a week in Cuba, spending most of my time in Havana seeing how people deal with life in a highly controled communist economy.

Then, during spring, I went back to good old New York, Toronto and Boston.

All this before my 3-month trip to Europe. I don't feel like detailing those previous trips at this point so I'll just write down the impressions from my current peregrinations in Europe...

Hong Kong

These events took place on the first week of August 2010.

It took me nearly 24 hours to travel from my apartment in Montreal to my hotel in Hong Kong. Nothing much to say about my arrival day in Hong Kong as I went to bed pretty quickly. I did notice that, unlike in North America, metro cars are all seamlessly connected, giving the impression of being in one long, infinite metro. Also, women have different fashion and some look pretty nice. One was talking to a gweilo (White man) on the metro who was telling her bullshit about not being a shallow man who can just hook up with any woman he just met in a bar because of his values and health concerns. To me, it was clear the reason this guy can't pick up women in bars is because he's just a plain loser. If he were in North America, he would never have the chance to talk to a quality lady like the one he was addressing on the metro car. I guess being White and exotic in a foreign land does have its advantages.

The next day, I went to the Hong Kong office of the company I work for. I'm officially on vacation, but I got to go away for one month in exchange for agreeing to work a reduced amount of hours during that time. It's a win-win: I get to travel longer and my company gets to keep me to take care of urgent issues while I'm gone. I figured a convenient location to work from would be the company's office. It would give me a feel of what it is to work in an Asian city and a chance to meet distant co-workers who actually did email me previously for work-related issues.

The Hong Kong office is small compared to the Montreal one, but has just been recently expanded. Thus, I got to benefit from having "my own" cubicle. I also got to meet big bosses of the Asian division of the company. The view from the office is on a dense urban forest of condo and office towers. I had lunch with co-workers, who told me about aspects of our business in Asia, about the local culture and about what to see and do in Hong Kong. After lunch, a few of the people in the office burped shamelessly. I thought it was funny because no one would dare do that in North America, especially in such tight quarters where everybody can identify the perpetrator of such bodily noises.

Then, I went to the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology because I was interested in one of their programs. The university is in the New Territories, relatively far from Hong Kong's downtown core. It has a campus in a picturesque location, but its buildings - like most of Hong Kong's - are drab and uninspiring, looking aged and cheap.

Having obtained information about the program of my interest, I headed further into the New Territories to Sai Kung to eat some sea food. Many restaurants are competing against each other in Sai Kung. All display the live fish and various animals they offer. Some also threw horseshoe crabs on the ground so that they could crawl around and lure customers in. It worked for me as I was looking to eat something different. However, I soon discovered that the horseshoe crabs are nothing more than marketing devices and that actually eating them is not something the restaurants intend you to do. When I asked how much it would cost to eat one, I was told it would be 300 Hong Kong dollars (roughly 45 Canadian or American dollars) and that only a minute amount of meat could be drawn from this creature. So, I opted for more "traditional" protein instead.

After dinner, I headed to Lan Kwai Fong for some drinking and to take in the cheerful spirit of the partying masses of expats. In LKF, the wise thing to do is to buy alcohol at a 7-Eleven and drink on the streets.

The next day, I went all over HK island and Kowloon. Amongst others, I entered the infamous Chungking Mansions. Come evening, I went to Lamma Island, about a 15-minute ferry ride from Hong Kong island. It felt like being in a completely different country. Instead of the busy, hurried pace of the city, the place was filled with a tropical resort ambiance. People lazily having fun and enjoying life in a leisurely way. Walking in this unlikely little paradise was much fun. Beautiful lanterns, local fauna, the sights and sounds of calm night bliss... I decided to make a hike of it and go all the way to the other side of the island. This took about an hour and a half. I was almost at destination, when a dog blocked my way in a very dark point of the path. I almost didn't see it. But when I did, I noticed it was looking straight at me with expectation in its eyes and a somewhat confrontational attitude. I'm not sure exactly what the dog wanted, but I felt threatened. I looked around me to see what I could do about this situation. I saw and picked up a 2x4 that was lying next to the path. Just that was enough to make the dog flee. Moments later, a local saw me with the beam in my hands and said not to worry about dogs here. The Lonely Planet guide says otherwise. I didn't take chances.

I had dinner at a restaurant on the island while waiting for the ferry back to HK island to arrive. When I took it, I went on the upper deck under an awning to admire the night even though it was raining, windy, and more comfortable inside. I enjoyed just being there in the night, on this small stretch of sea half a world away from home.

The Games are Over

Been busy lately. Didn't take the time to write about the rest of my Olympic experience.

Here are the highlights...

Good weather graced Vancouver. I even got lightly sunburnt from walking in the warm winter sunshine of that city, which is normally rainy in February.

My friend from Montreal who wants to buy property in Vancouver arrived. We went to Toshi's together. The food is always good there and I suggested she try the oysters as they gave me a nearly religious experience the first time I had tried them there. Everything went well except that later that night, my friend discovered she is allergic to oysters. She ended up being all red, full of rashes and throwing up. At one point, it looked serious enough to consider a trip to the hospital. But once the food was out of her system, things got fine.

The next day, we both went to an Olympic hockey game. It was the men's semi-final, pitting the US against Finland. The Finns got their asses kicked real bad. In the first period, the Americans scored six goals. The Finns managed to score one in the last period. Not the most entertaining match ever. Nonetheless, I can now say I've attended an Olympic event! Later, the Finns would manage to get the bronze medal in hockey. Following the match, we walked around Vancouver and went to eat at Guu. I missed the atmosphere and food at this favorite place of mine.



Saturday night, I hung out with two friends from Montreal: Grace and Ling. The streets were filled with people. Although, because of the light drizzle, it wasn't as crazy as the previous night. One group of people was particularly funny. They were a hodge-podge of persons gathered through the encouragement of Decentralized Dance Party. They added to the general happy chaos reigning on the streets of Vancouver.

Another group of people who grabbed my attention was girls having a pajama party behind a shop's window. I'm guessing this was a kind of publicity stunt. A few people gave in to their voyeuristic instincts to look at pretty girls playing strip poker publicly. One guy next to me gave them something to look at, too. Yes; he whipped out his schlong and rubbed it against the window for all the ladies to see.

The following day - Sunday the 28th of February - was the most intense day of the Olympics. Not only was it a beautiful week-end day outside, but it was the day the US and Canada would face off for men's gold in hockey. I watched the match on TV (and I never watch any sport on TV). It was one of the best matches of the history of that sport. The teams were of comparable strength and skill; the action would constantly move from one end of the rink to the other; the score was always tight and the excitement more than palpable. Canada was leading 2 to 1, but after having swapped their goaler for an extra player on the ice, and 24 seconds before the end of the third period, the Americans managed to tie the score. The tension was really high. The game went into overtime and would be won by the first team to get a goal. Sydney Crosby, became Canada's national hero when he scored. The crowd entered in pure jubilation and the whole city, if not the whole country entered in a frenzy of pride en joy. The men on the American team looked like they were thinking about suicide. I can only imagine what they felt like, but they nonetheless gave a terrific performance.

If the streets of Vancouver had been crazy in the past weeks, it was nothing compared to what they were after Canada's win in men's hockey. I've never seen so many Canadian flags before. I've never heard so many people sing "O Canada" before. Vancouver was turned into a sort of Canaday Day party on steroids, with Halloween elements thrown in for good measure. People would climb lamp posts, would honk madly, would shout, sing and dance. Many were dressed in red, some actually wearing flags as their outfits. Some were costumed as athletes. Some didn't make any sense but were just damn funny (inflatable sumos, people on stilts, an East Indian playing the bagpipe, etc.) It was something to be seen and experienced.



I had dinner at Zakkushi on Denman that evening. I highly recommend this Japanese grill diner. After dinner, I just soaked in the energy from the joyous crowd until around midnight.

The next day, Vancouver was a lot more calm. The games were over and they had been quite eventful. Not only did they have the usual sport competitions, expressions of support and manifestations, but the also went further than usual on the dramatic side. For the first time in Olympic history, an athlete died while practicing his sport at a competition venue. Joannie Rochette, a figure skater, lost her mother days before her Olympic performance. As in a movie, that didn't stop her, but instead gave her that more reason to perform. And perform she did: beating her personal record, she managed to get a medal. Of course, during the games, countless records were broken. And so were the hopes of a Canadian athlete of finishing first in men's 50K cross-country skiing. After giving his best for nearly three hours, he finished second a mere two seconds behind the gold medalist. To fall behind by two seconds after giving yourself out to the point of breaking for three hours in front of the world has just got to be devastating. And that's how the American hockey team seemed to have felt after the most epic hockey game ever in which they lost the gold to Canada. But, one man's hell is another's heaven and Canada was given the sweetest win it could ever hope of getting. A perfect end to a brilliant streak of triumphs where Canada raked in 14 gold medals in total, the highest number ever won by a single nation in all the Winter Games. Hell, it even makes me feel patriotic to some extent and I normally can't be caught giving a damn about such vain things as national pride.

But all good things come to an end and I headed to the Pacific Central train station to catch a bus that would take me to Seattle, where I would take a plane back to Montreal. It reminded me of the time I lived in Seattle and would take the bus or train every week-end to Vancouver.

Crossing the border was made fun by our Korean-born bus driver. He told us that the Americans were too poor to buy garbage cans or to have toilets in the border post. He obviously was making fun of the Americans' ridiculous misplaced obsession with security. There was an American journalist sitting not too far from me and she was outraged to hear the guy talking like that. She insisted on letting people around her know that her country had enough money to buy garbage cans and hire people to pick their contents up. For a journalist, she didn't seem to have a firm grasp of sarcasm. The bus driver also told us that we couldn't take fruits into the US; not even banana peels or apple cores. He told us not to put banana peels or apple cores into the bus' garbage bags because the garbage bags was meant to cross the border with the bus. He said we had two choices: we could either eat our banana peels or declare them upon which the customs agents would confiscate them and eat them themselves. I should have given that driver a tip for making me smile that much. He's got the right attitude. To paraphrase the old adage: if life throws bananas at you, you make a banana split.

Once in Seattle, I visited my old workplace and saw my old amazon.com co-workers. After that, I went to Uwajimaya to buy Japanese plum wine to bring back home and I had dinner with Heng and Pathoum who came all the way from Everett to see me. Later, I took the fairly recently-built light rail train all the way to the airport and caught my flight back to Montreal.

Getting back to Montreal made me feel like I do when I visit second world countries. Compared to Vancouver, Montreal is dirty, aging, haphazard, poor and ill-mannered. Of course, it's not quite Paraguay, but I don't see anything holding me back to my hometown. What my trip to Vancouver made me fully realize is that I can remotely work from anywhere. So, after I take some more time to figure a few things out, I might just become a world rambler, a citizen of the Earth with no specific address who just roams the planet in search of adventure and making the most of what little time I have in this life.

Second Olympic Week

During my second week in Vancouver, I met a few friends and we updated each other. All had interesting stories.

I went to a victory ceremony with one friend. During that ceremony, the always funny-looking Shaun White from the US was given a gold medal for snowboarding. Also, Christine Nesbitt (a Canadian), got a gold medal for speed skating. Being a Canadian, she got the crowd going crazy when she accepted her medal. After the ceremony, I had dinner with my friend and we talked about Life (career, love, cities...) until 1am. I thought she looked better than ever and was disappointed when she told me she now has a boyfriend as I wouldn't have minded at all to be hosted in her Yaletown condo...

The next day, I had lunch with some old co-workers from Nexon in Gastown. I then visited the new game studio where they now work. After that, I went in the Oakridge area of Vancouver to check out a guest house for a friend who'll be staying in Vancouver for a month to look for a property to buy.

Given that the friends at whose places I thought I would be staying in Vancouver after my time at my first host's place sort of flaked out on me and given the fact that I didn't want to overstay my welcome at my first host's place, I decided to move to the guest house. My property-buying friend will be staying for a month and by including my stay as part of her reservation, I get to pay for the time I stay at the monthly rate rather than at the daily rate.

Guest houses are one of Vancouver's secrets. There are basically houses owned by a family in which people can rent rooms or suites. One can easily rent a room for under $40 a day (even during the Olympics) in guest houses. The reason many people don't know about them is that they are run mostly without permits and whatever revenue they generate goes undeclared. Most of them cater to newly landed immigrants from China. If a guest house has a website, it is likely to be in Chinese only. Google "family guest house" Vancouver or family house hotel Vancouver and you'll find the sites of a few that have English versions. The one where I'm now staying is conveniently located next to a SkyTrain station and a shopping center; offers free Internet and cable TV and has all the amenities you would expect to find in your house. It website is located at http://www.linsinn.com/ . Use Google Translate to understand what it says.

After checking out the guest house, I went back downtown to walk a bit with a friend around Stanley Park and then eat some Japanese food. Then, I took the SkyTrain all the way to the suburb of Surrey to attend a free Sam Roberts concert. When I got there, the show had already started, but the best songs had yet to come and it turned out to be a great concert. The crowed was very much enthused and the sweet smell of weed was all over the place.

After coming back downtown, I walked a bit on Robson and Granville streets. The streets were PACKED. I've never seen Vancouver that excited and exciting. It felt like a Canada Day party gone out of proportion. People drinking on the streets, shouting "Go Canada!", flaunting they stuff or just walking around to "bathe" in the crowds.

I met two girls that were very suggestive in their way of dressing and their attitude. I had a few drinks with them and then walked around downtown with them. They were funny, but not nearly as funny as noticing guys' stares in their direction and blatant sexual interest in them. Life as a sexy girl must have many benefits.

Speaking of lovely ladies... Vancouver is chock full with them. Not only is there a dazzling variety of Asians, but the Caucasian girls here make me renew my interest for white girls. Amazing blondes, slim anglophones, fitness enthusiasts and rich ladies from all over the world visiting for the Olympics. People in Vancouver are not afraid to wear shorts and flip-flops all year round. So, it comes as no surprise that despite this being February, the array of tight leggings and bare legs I saw in the past two weeks beats months of Montreal's "Winter Collection".

Not only is Vancouver a city I enjoy living in, but it also provides all these beautiful, educated and affluent women. Maybe Vancouver truly is my destiny.

At any rate, this Saturday, I met some more friends and we basically wasted our time waiting in line for events we never got to attend (the venues were full). Then, on Sunday, I had a Nippo-Korean all-you-can-eat experience at Shabusen on Granville street with John (an Amazon co-worker) and his wife. Then, I walked some more downtown and came back to my place to rest a bit.