Ninety percent of anything is quite a bit. Ninety percent of ten days is a fair amount of time. In the ten days I spent visiting Vancouver, it rained on nine of them. It was quite the contrast from the arid and erratic Calgary weather behaviour. Wandering around the city in search of the type of attractions we had in mind meant remaining damp for (you guessed it ) ninety percent of the time. But who lets a little moisture ruin thier fun?
Within an hour of arriving and checking in to our accomodations, we had already wandered through the steam tunnels and accross the rooftop of a nearby historic hospital. We took this to be a an excellent omen to the following days. The following afternoon was spent attempting to access various rooftops, but the homeless that dwell downtown have necessitated many buildings to secure thier buildings quite well. After being thwarted by a single well secured door on one of the taller skyscrapers, our meandering ways took us through the theatre district and into the filthy back alleys behind.
Rotten garbage, sketchy chracters making equally sketchy business transactions, and rats, were almost welcomed as they were always a sign that something forgotten may be present. Anything vacant in this city would surely be extremely well secured at the ground level., so then must your attention turn upwards. Immediately adjacent to one of the larger, more well-known theaters, sat the pitiful remains of a building with a well-advanced case of " my insides are no longer inside". Two yellow tracked Beasts rested quietly inside the the temporary fences, admiring the handiwork of a very busy day.The entire center of the building had been chewed away and what hadn't been hauled off was sitting in little mountains of twisted rebar and broken rock. Two stairwells remained, the last defiant stand of a doomed building. The first ascended into free air and offered little in the way in adventure. The second however, opened up the third dimension to this entire city block, if only until the steel teeth gnawed it into oblivion.
Clambering up ladders, accross rooftops, over allyways via the top of enclosed corridors (+15 for you Calgary folk), we were in the urban playground we envisioned a decently developed city would offer us. (Sprawling suburbs make not a city proper) An entire city block to explore, and looking down upon the very vocal and rowdy club dwellers oblivious to our presence. It was a nice night, not cold, but also not raining.
And then something happened that reaffirmed my belief that every door needs checking, every window pane nudged. Cautiously we pulled open a wooden roof hatch well beset by rot, and we were greeted with the familiar and invting scent of dust, decay, and age. A well positioned, but ancient and very rickety ladder lowered us into a world not just forgotten, but almost completely sealed
The floorboards took exception to our presence and were quite vocal with every step. Paint peeled from everywhere and there was absolutely no air circulation. The first corridor gave evidence that a signifigant fire had occured. the black scars still as fresh and angry as the day the flames were extinguished. The molding and trim along the walls were ancient, as were the plumbing fixtures. Each floor was divided up in the manner of a hostel or halfway house, consisting of a sink, a closet, and a small bathroom shared by adjoining paired suites. Gingerly testing each step, descending from the second floor to the ground, a sheet of drywall completely isolated the decay and age from the outside world. a trendy boutique and cafe occupied the base of this building, and like a tourniquet, had barricaded itself away from the upper three floors, almost as if they feared the creeping decay might one day seethe through the cieling and overtake them.
Far and away the most interesting features of this building were the difficulty (and sheer luck) of access, as well as the complete and total encapsulation and isolation from time that was maintained from within.
Posted in Archival by fyrephreak on 2008-06-07. Viewed 778 time(s).
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