Whenever we drunkenly walk over the Granville Street Bridge, or any Vancouver bridge for that matter, the predominant thought in our mind as traffic whizzes by us is “You know what would make this better? If traffic was on BOTH sides of us rather than just one — to fully immerse ourselves in Vancouver’s delightful urban experience.”
Thankfully, that exhaust-fuelled fever dream could become a reality if the city bites on a proposed bike and pedestrian path gallivanting straight down the middle of busy Granville Street Bridge.
It’s a bold, some might argue impractical, proposal. But we’ve looked long and carefully at the jaunty, futuristic drawing of what the pedestrian/bike path would look like, and we’re rather smitten with it. It also tells us a lot about how the city sees where Vancouver is headed and who inhabits it. Here’s what we discovered:
Hipsters and dandies
Apparently, they’ll still be around when the path is finished, and they still prefer bikes (usually with baskets) as their primary mode of transportation. Plus, look at this charming couple. I bet that a hazy farmhouse ale with rare Norwegian yeast is also in their future.
Cardigan-wearing same-sex couples pointing at things
“Hey, that’s where my apartment used to be before it was torn down and replaced by condos that I can’t afford.”
Motorized wheelchairs and dads pushing strollers
It’s not a disability — it’s called parenthood, and we hear it’s very rewarding once they graduate.
This couple is totally doing it.
Ice cream – sorry, gelato – vendors
“What was that? You want a soft hairy eyes clean clone? Speak up, dear. I can’t hear you with that Escalade driving by.”
I see a standard poodle that’s been run over by a car. Oh, and I also see my father. Silently judging me because he doesn’t know how to express his love.
Bad bike etiquette… it’s still a thing
Get a load of these d-bags. Riding side by side in triplicate, taking up the whole lane. Who do they think they are, anyway. Probably never ridden on the majestic Granville Street Bridge before, feeling the cool rush of traffic on their cheeks, the scent of burning oil and transmission fluid tickling their nostrils. Oh to be at one with the city — a pulsated blood vessel, coursing through its clogged arteries. Alive. So alive.