9 November 2010
I’VE NOW BEEN in Nelson, BC for just over a month. Enough time to plant my feet and make a few new friends. Also enough time to notice the quirks that a small town like Nelson is bound to have — especially a small town that has such an artsy/hippie/spiritual essence.
1. Sitting in Oso Negro cafe with one of my new friends. I see a guy out of the corner of my eye glancing in our direction quite a bit. 30 minutes later, on his way out, he stops by our table and says, “You two have a really good vibe.” Doesn’t wait for a response and just leaves.
3. One of the biggest news makers so far has been a missing dog: Moose (pictured at the top of the page). On my second day here I was in line to use the bathroom at a cafe and was reading one of these missing dog posters. The old guy in front of me (with a ponytail) told me the story of the missing dog and how he swears he saw it with this lady who wasn’t the owner (because he knows who the owner is). Then I started reading about Moose in the local newspapers, and how the police had suspects — transients apparently — but could not locate the dog. I swear, every few days there was an update.
4. Another bit of news I saw in the newspaper was a little blurb about a boy who was skateboarding, fell off and injured his leg. That’s all.
5. No one seems to actually be from Nelson. Almost everyone I meet or overhear is from somewhere else. One of the most common words I hear when someone is describing Nelson is “magical”, as in “I came here last year and fell in love with it, then I moved here. It’s just so magical.”
6. For example, one of my yoga instructors (whose name is, of course, Joy) left her home state of Hawaii, where she had access to empty sandy white beaches “where coconuts floated in the water” to live here, where we’re about to start getting feet of snow.
Oh yeah, another word I hear quite often in Nelson descriptions: “special.”
7. A friend of mine just moved from London, Ontario to here for the winter. He took a bus from Vancouver and was walking with his backpack and guitar in the dark, on his way to his accommodation for the night. A car stopped and a lady asked him, in a really compassionate tone, if he’d like to “have a hoot.” She didn’t offer him a ride or anything. Just a hoot.
Indeed, Nelson is a magical, special place.