Border guard "So did you do anything else over there?" "Like what? Brush my teeth?"
The bike arrives, but only one pedal remains on the rat-trap in the back. The other one must be somewhere en-route.
HUGE lineup at the customs corral. I tell a pale rotund white person "This is ridicilously slow" to which he replies "Actually it's flows smoothly today". He stays quiet when I say "THIS is a JOKE" pointing at the line-ups.
Angry voices when people come out of the skytrain and on the roads. And all just one-syllables like HEY, MAAAN, etc.
I take the skytrain from the airport, get off at 25th Avenue, and push the bike to 17th Ave. Cambie Cycles sells me 2 matching pedals for $12.60 and lets me use their compressor hose to bring my tires up to the proper inflation pressure. I'm good to go again!
I remember the motorcyclist who cut me off going around the traffic circle of Place de la Bastille, who then apologized profusely (with a big smile) and explained the whole modus operandi how he had not seen me. So much more humane!
At the Vietnamese Restaurant traffic on Marine Drive and Capilano Road again is stop-and-go in BOTH directions. And there isn't even a parade going on!
A police cruiser is pulling over people with cell phones or without seat belts. I'm reminded about French cop cars unable to move through traffic or just being cut off by other drivers.