Crying Over Spilt Double Double

"Welcome to Canada."

I expected those words from the Immigration agent to make me get a bit misty, but they didn't.

I expected walking out into the Vancouver air, officially partially Canadian would, but it didn't, either.

Not even the jet lag that had us awake at 5:10 am on Sunday morning choked me up, although the concept does make me wince.

That first sip of Tim Horton's on an early Sunday morning, though, and I was officially verklempt. Hey, no one laughed about Proust and his madeleines; I had what I had.

Vancouver is pretty cool. This morning for breakfast I had scrambled eggs, bacon (not back) and a lemon-sugar crepe. Crepes are big here. We've already passed through the Granville Island market and sworn to return again soon. We tenatively have a place to live (we've agreed to rent it, but for the jiggery-pokery left with a security deposit and actually signing the lease), found close accommodations, restaurants, routes to work (I was laughing about a five block walk until I found out Raine might have a three block walk.), etc., etc., etc.

Tomorrow we head to the beach to take advantage of the "heat wave" currently hitting the city. People are looking at me funny when they tell me how hot it is here right now and I respond with the fact that it was 105 F (41 C; gotta get my metric legs again) in our driveway five days before we left.

Beach, mountains, good air, cool neighbourhoods, awesome weather.

Welcome to Vancouver.

Welcome to Canada.