What an amazing group. I have never before had such a warm and friendly welcome. As a complete stranger, it was very, very touching.
Before there was time to commit all the names to memory, we were saddling up and headed to something called the Richmond Summer Night Market.
I twisted the throttle to the stop and did my level best to keep up, flying over and around the elevated clover leaf at Granville and Marine Drive in a headlong rush that made me feel for fleeting moments that I was really a member of this incredible flying squad.
Bob's friends (Dar mysteriously refers to them as the "RTE Gang") have riding skills that showed me up for the newbie I really am. If you think you know how to ride, ride with the pros... and try to keep up. To say that their skills in the mad traffic headed to the night market were amazing is a serious disservice.
At one point, Andrew leaned in at a red light in an effort to coach me on the blocking strategy and group riding objectives. I think I understood 10% of what I needed to know so as not to embarrass myself.
Bob had sent me a link, but it was impossible to understand this night market phenomenon without experiencing it first hand.
Mind blowing comes close.
Think one part outdoor Asian gourmet feast, one part insane flea market. You can taste anything here, and buy anything here.
Are we talking standard street meat? No, no, no, no, no. The price is reasonable, because the portions are on the small side, so that you get to buy and taste, and buy and taste, and buy and taste. I had pork dumplings (delicious), corn fresh off the cob (amazing), something called Takoyaki made with octopus (beyond words), and a Taiwan Bun (that was heaven).
Here is how those Takoyaki are prepared. I have never seen any cooking technique quite like this.
My mind and tastebuds were already reeling trying to comprehend this amazing place and my role in it, when Andrew blew me completely away.
You see Andrew and I were among the minority here who didn't have some kind of Asian roots. Or so I thought.
Andrew took a look at my delicious Taiwan Bun and inquired what I was eating.
I groped in my bewildered mind searching for the name of this incredible delicacy and was very relieved when I finally remembered.
"Taiwan Bun" I said. It was what Andrew said next that blew my mind.
"......................" he said, in what sounded to my numb brain like perfect Mandarin. I did a cartoon-like head-swivelling quadruple-take.
"You speak Mandarin?!" I blurted out, incredulous.
Andrew shrugged his shoulders in an unassuming way and said "Yeah, I spent two-and-a-half years teaching English in Taiwan".
"And how did you learn Mandarin?" I said.
"Just picked it up on my own" came the very genuine and casual response. Now I was well and truly humbled.
Bob managed to snap a picture a precious few minutes after that remarkable exchange.
Copyright - Bobskoot - http://wetcoastscootin.blogspot.ca |
Later on, in his inimitable, devilishly humorous way, he gently coaxed me into posing holding up some some wild off-the-wall underwear from one of the flea-market stalls.
I think I'd better post that here, for fear of what Bob will do with it on his blog.
Copyright - Bobskoot - http://wetcoastscootin.blogspot.ca |
"When you use this you will always think of me" he said, after offering me the unusual gift.
Thanks Bob, you know I always will. [EDIT: to see the evening's festivities from Bob's perspective, click here.]
It was getting late. We returned to the bikes to set off for home, or so I thought. By now I should have known better. Bob simply refuses to waste any time.
You see, somewhere in Richmond, there is a second night market. Bob wanted to have a look for himself. These markets only opened for the season the previous weekend and this new market was somewhat of an unknown.
We parked the bikes on a side road leading to the market. The location of this second night market was on the shore of a body of water. Bob and Andrew and I chatted while Andrew smoked a cigarette and Bob and I snapped some pictures.
Andrew mentioned that he had to get going. Bob and I climbed on our bikes and set out once more.
Bob said that we had to stop by his house on the way back to the hotel. Bob insisted on escorting me all the way back to the hotel. I was still not quite wise to Bob's ways.
We parked outside his house and Bob asked me to wait while he went to get something. A few moments later, he came out bearing gifts for me.
Bob had some great Vespa swag left over which he very kindly gave me along with a flashlight that I might use on my two-wheeled travels (I never asked, but I suspect that Bob was a boy scout, because like me, he is a firm believer in preparedness). Then he proceeded to bungee strap a cardboard box to my bike saying I should open it at the hotel. I did later on. I won't say what was in the box, suffice to say that it will decorate my office when I get it home.
At this point in the day, I confess that I was getting tired. Mercifully there is not much traffic left at 10:45 p.m. on a Friday night in Vancouver so we made light work of the trip towards the waterfront.
But wait, why spoil a jaunt to the waterfront by failing to take a breather on Granville Island.
We parked the bikes by the water at the public market courtyard, hard by the Granville street bridge that towers overhead. This is a really pretty spot. Bob snapped some pictures of us using his tripod, remote control for the camera and a long exposure to capture the scene. Like in the early days of photography, we had to be very still not to spoil the shot.
Copyright - Bobskoot - http://wetcoastscootin.blogspot.ca |
I thanked Bob for the most incredible evening I have had in recent memory and we parted after making plans to meet at the hotel at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning.
Stay tuned, there is still so much to share.