Teatime
A new tea shop opened in the neighbourhood this month. What a delight. Teas from all over the world. You take a table and order the tea. The ladies take the tea and steep it in a big pot with lots of water so the leaves can move around. They time it with a little cooking timer and when it is perfect they bring it to your table. It is balanced on a little warmer with a candle in it so that you can have a couple of cups of just about perfect tea.
Here is the best part. All the plugs in the wall are covered, so there is no hooking up the laptop. They just don't want laptops. They want people to sit and relax or chat quietly.
They haven't figured out how to rule out cell phones, but I bet they will eventually.
So the city marches on, providing wonderful experiences. This perfect pot of tea is $3.50 and the tearoom is beautiful, an oasis in my day.
Flamenco Tonight
There is a little cafe around here where we can watch flamenco. Did I say watch, I meant experience. The sweat flies and the music thuds and the feet of the dancers kick up dust in the air.
It is only a 15 minute walk from our place and we go over sometimes in the evenings. No car, no driving, just a warm scarf and an amble and we are there.
The price? A simple meal like a hamburger and beer or a bit of quiche.
After the dancers are done they pass the hat and you put it what you have.
Now these are not amateur dancers, they are very experienced and very fiery. There is one lovely young woman who resembles a softer rounder Catherine Zeta Jones. There is one older woman who looks like she would kill you as much as look at you. Her eyes are fires slashing out at the tables. There is a superb guitar player and a flamenco singer. The dancers alternate, but they perform for a few hours three evenings a week.
This is what the city is about - opportunity, culture and experience. All of these cafes, bistros, restaurants have something to offer besides food. A few bucks, a few beers and an experience extraordinary, but commonplace in this urban landscape.
Missing My Sushi
I am enjoying a lovely couple of weeks in a small coastal town in British Columbia. I am lodged in a gorgeous home in the woods, surrounded by birds and raccoons and tall tall trees. When the wind blows it rattles the window panes. When the rain pelts down it taps on the skylight. What a piece of autumn heaven.
BUT
I am missing certain things about my city home. Namely, I miss being able to walk out my front door and turn right and find a lovely fruit shop and a bistro. Here I have to get in the car if I want to go anywhere. It's a trade off for the solitude I know, but I don't know if it is one I would commit to permanently.
I miss my sushi. Vancouver has such a variety of wonderful ethnic restaurants and my California roll is very rarely more than $2.50. Here there is one sushi bar (which is great), but the California roll is $6.00. Nothing is cheap up here because it all comes by ferry.
I have had some lovely evenings in the house with friends and a giant vegetarian dinner, and that is great, but either way you look at it, there is something to always miss in the city.
Best of both worlds is what I have right now, and I intend to keep it that way.
