It was a terrible guess. German I’d said. No. Was I warm, I’d asked. Yes, she replied. But this really wasn’t the case at all. She was Iranian. Now a Canadian citizen. Explained I’d love to visit her nation of birth, but it’d have to wait until regime change. One sympathetic to the West. Huge reserves of natural gas apparently.
I’d pulled off the highway a little earlier, soon following Marine Drive through pretty leafy neighbourhoods. Gently winding along the coast towards Vancouver. Smart condos, well-kept gardens. An expensive looking Japanese restaurant. Gentle inclines a welcome change to the tougher gradients I’d encountered on my way south that day. And the rain had finally stopped.
A quick phone call to my hosts to let them know I was definitely on my way. And then a brief stop at a convenience store, chance encounter with the Iranian woman behind the counter. Quick re-fuel before final push into the city. Soon be sunset.
