Wednesday, 30 July 2014

A Touch of Amarillo

Rain or shine when you walk down Hornby towards False Creek, you're greeted with the strong flash of yellow from Bridges on Granville Island. Most of Vancouver tends to dull and washed out colors reminiscent of graveyards. Almost all the condominiums surrounding False Creek are the same pasty blue or green tinted glass towers pancaking into a solid mass of blandness almost as soon as the eyes perceive them. On sunny days you can sense some sparkle as the rays of sunlight bounce back and forth between the close knit structures but when skies are overcast or the rain teems down, all you see are clumps of grey. I've always wondered why houses and buildings are so muted the further north you travel. From the vibrant colors of Central America, all the bright lively hues are slowly extinguished as you head north until everything becomes the color of bleached out, caribou hide at the Arctic circle. I think it reflects the disposition of the populace in each region. Happy, lively and passionate in the South: sad, lonely and disinterested in the North. However, I've noticed most of the newer buildings in Puerto Vallarta destined as dwellings for gringos receive the dull, washed out facades. Must be the pervasive inbred capitalist outlook.
But the added bonus of today was the little yellow boat adding that little something extra.

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