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Nice to Vancouver – Work & Holiday Visa

My Canadian Work & Holiday experience – PART 1 – Departure

You must put in your luggage, the excitement of discovering a new country, the experience of immigration, separation from family and friends, joy, the pain of leaving your city, the irrational fear of plane and some clothes.

Then fly away from its Mediterranean cradle.

Nice the beauty is now far behind me, I fly to new landscapes, having already traveled to Canada, but in the French part, I have a connection with this country that goes back to an unconscious childhood.

My first trips to Canada were part of my dreams, then I imagined this place as my own country. Being born under the sun of Nice, nobody really understood why I was attracted by a country representing alone the most extreme cold. Even today, many Canadians do not understand what I’m doing here, Nice seems to them more idyllic than Vancouver.

Yet after a first exchange, smiling and cordial,
we come to agree on one point! Vancouver does not have to blush in front of Nice, these two cities have a lot in common, if not 300 days of sunshine a year, so what is it?

Chapter 1

Between sea and mountains

Just like Nice, the possibilities of outings are many and varied on Vancouver. The panoramas are breathtaking and life is sweet and warm. Many visitors arriving in Nice, ignore the beauty of the Mercantour National Park and the proximity of the ski slopes as well as Vancouver.

In less than 1h30 you can leave the sun for the snow.
The ski areas are not as big as on Whistler, but you can vary the stations of the Mercantour and the Alpes-Maritimes, to extend your experiences of azure ski.

My twin nieces and my nephew in Valberg in 2015, enjoyed with my brother and me, a snow abundant and having nothing to envy to the largest areas of the planet. The only difference with Whistler is maybe the daily ski pass for less than 35 Euros. So do not deprive yourself if you visit the Côte d’Azur in Winter.

However, having to leave Nice for my new Canadian life, I would talk about Nice and its many similarities with Vancouver from time to time, such as nostalgia stings, intervening in my dream come true. Here I am on:

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

The Canadian visa, Work & Holidays , freshly issued, here I am, treading the footsteps of the Haida and other first nations, the first modern settlers and adventurers, leaving me charmed by this intriguing place and rich in diverse and relaxing atmospheres. This grandiose landscape between sea and mountain helping.

HAIDA ART – Photo: ASKIDEAS

By discovering local Native art, other similarities to my hometown are obvious to me. The colors, red and black used, sometimes depicting the eagle proudly standing on its paws and bulging torso.

If the color of our sports football club Nice are the

One of Nice coat of arms – Photo: Unknown

red and black, I also learn that this sport is as popular here as it is at home, we see the signs we want to see, but this anchors my steps in a certain visual comfort.

Still, that the art of the Haida First Nation, mesmerizes and fascinates me, although resumed by many in the region, I must confess, that only a visit to Haida land can offer me the happiness accomplished, by the meeting of this people.

Haïda Art Wooden Boat – Source: First Peoples

« I hope that our future sailboat can proudly display the colors of the Haida, other elements that will make our boat can also pay tribute to my hometown .. Without revealing everything here, you can discover some clues on this page: ANITA. »

 

 

 

Let’s go back to Vancouver. I arrived alone, like an explorer in recognition, sent by Salim, I am looking for our eldorado, our lair and our future.

The city of Vancouver first invited me to admire English Bay (Another sign with the « Promenade des Anglais » in Nice?).

Neither one nor two, I put on my rollers and I squirm in speed, on this magnificent bay, offering the sight, of a pacific at my feet, of snowy mountains and cargo ships, wisely aligned.

The sunsets here are popular, people in good weather, get drunk by the show and settled on the beach as in a movie theater, when everyone sits, the movie starts and delivers us every day a different scenario. I will call that day the movie: « Between dog and wolf ».

Twilight surrounded the silhouettes this day, I did not say a word and at no time, I did not feel lonely, despite the presence of very closed groups, laughing at the bursts of words that I did not understand yet.

Still, I drank this city in kilometers, took shots of excitement to the centimeter and finished some evenings on Davie Street, to try to make my place, in a city that seemed to me on a human scale, despite its magnitude.

Chapter 2

Davie Street, a gay village open to all.

Since I’ve been here since I came here, change the names of the streets so that they seem more familiar to me. I changed that day, Davie street to Davie Straight, now this nod to his open-minded, makes me smile every time I go there.

This street has the gift of making me as happy as sad. Another Vancouver reality is poverty. I can not help being emphatic and having a sad vision of these two worlds that share the same street.

I do not know where our societies, so-called modern, are going, but when I see these fortunes spread on our screens, I allow myself to be a communist for a moment, humanist perhaps? I do not know, but I must say, that it is unbearable for me to see this misery increase.

Sorry to have made this street, for a moment, so sad that it would make you forget the cheerfulness of this gay village.

Delighting at this time with an expensive cigarette, on the patio of a gay club, I got embarked by an ephemeral friend, met that night, who sold me an evening, so-called mixed, as the evening at do not miss.

I followed her and spent one of my worst night, I did not feel at all in my place and often abandoned by my friend of a night, a few lesbians that day taught me the definition of the word « CUNT » then, full of other dirty words, which I do not remember very well, all this by spilling beer on me, laughing in my ears to make me lose my eardrums.

I lived that night, my first special lesson of, « S.L.A.N.G ».

The next day, giving me back my language course. I met Granville Island. A space of disconcerting intelligence. If our French politicians and architects could draw inspiration from places like this, tons of ugly places could become charming and useful to the urban community, creating jobs and life, where there are few, or more.

Granville Island deserves more than a chapter among many others, it must also open the part 2 of my trip.

You just read part 1 of this trip, if you like, why not leave your opinion at the bottom of this page, whether it is good or bad, everything will allow us to move forward.

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Part 2 (In preparation)

 

 

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