Neil and I met downtown for dinner before I hit the open road. It was 8pm by the time I was splashing along the drenched streets of Vancouver, the rain exploding against my windshield as I darted in and out of traffic lanes to avoid buses boarding passengers, or turning vehicles waiting for pedestrians to cross.

Finally, out of the city, I tuned into CBC radio and just let the words carry my mind away from my thoughts of the day. Tonight, on Ideas, the legacy of Polio was explored with the airing of the second part of a two-part series “Remembering Polio“. The hour included conversations with survivors of the 1950s’ epidemic and their lives today as they suffer from Post Polio Syndrome (PPS). The broadcast was informative, as the eradication of Polio has been so successful in Canada, that I have little knowledge of the virus and its effects. I was surprised to learn that the vaccination, itself, could cause paralysis in children, with the odds being one per million vaccinations. If that weren’t alarming enough, it has been found that vaccination-induced polio can actually infect others. Both revelations have completely turned my understanding of vaccinations upside-down. I have suffered flu-like symptoms after receiving vaccinations, but I had assumed it was the body’s immuno-reaction to the vaccination. I had no idea that the vaccination, itself, could cause similar symptoms. Something to consider during your next vaccination.

The border-crossing was fantastic! Much better than our last experience. It took no time to make it to the Canada/USA border and was passing through the crossing just before 9pm. There were two vehicles in line when I arrived, which made their way to the USA without delay, so I crossed within minutes. They have made slight modifications to the three lanes approaching the crossing. They have blocked off the Nexus lane from the two regular lanes at the duty-free shop. For those of you having crossed the Peace-Arch Crossing, you might have been subjected to frustrating wait times as non-Nexus users ride the Nexus lane and hop into the regular lane at the last second, passing hundreds of frustrated vehicles patiently waiting their turn. I’ve cursed many drivers as they flew along the Nexus lane while I was stationary as the jerks bud into line. They’ve finally made attempts to correct the situation, by dividing roughly 90% of the Nexus line from the regular lines. Personally, I think they should block the entire Nexus lane and if some jackass decides to hop into the lane, then he/she should have to ride back around to the back of the regular lanes. That will deter the jerks.

Shortly after crossing, the CBC signal started to fade, so I tuned into Montreal’s CHOM radio at FM97.7. I like to listen to French radio once in a while to try to understand the conversation and to learn a few words along the way. It is exhausting trying to concentrate so attentively, so it doesn’t last for very long. Finally, I gave up on Canadian radio and started surfing the airwaves for an American broadcast.

My first impression, wtf? There is so much self-help, self-guidance, spiritual, fanatic, religious broadcasts polluting the airwaves. I’m not exaggerating. I surfed incessantly in an attempt to find a station playing a few good songs in a row. I thought I had found one when radio jockey “Delilah” flicked on her mic, to encourage listeners to phone in with their requests. The American listeners wasted no time and were lighting up the phones with their dedications to their grandchild, children or to themselves. There were tears, there were prayers to God, there were words of encouragement, there were psychological analyses, there were too many “love yourself” to stay tuned into “Delilah” and her words of advice. I just couldn’t understand why these people were phoning into the station to cry their sorry, sob stories over the air for the entire country to hear. Why the hell would anyone be interested in listening to others’ problems? (And not get paid for it?) What is wrong with these people? Three requests later and I couldn’t take it anymore. I sought another station, but rested back on CBC after the signal was again, strong enough to hear without much interference.

That pretty much took me to Bellevue and now here I am two and a half hours later. The ride was great. There was traffic, but I merely drove the speed limit on cruise-control, so the traffic was just background noise. It was a relaxing drive and I enjoyed the solitude. My first impression of Bellevue, from the very narrow and dark view that I’ve had since arriving, is that it has a business park, many car dealerships and hotels. It would seem that everyone drives their big vehicles to work in their high office towers, then spend their weekend in the big mall. As I was checking in, I asked the pleasant (way too chipper for 10:30pm) man where the Bellevue hotspots were. That’s when he exclaimed “The Mall!”
Okay, not precisely what I had in mind. “Do you have any parks or beaches on the water?”
“Sure, we have a fountain in front of this building here, and we have a park in the middle of these buildings here, and we have another park over there that people like to drive around. Or Seattle is a short drive away” as he circled the points-of-interest on his area map.
Hmmm. “Okay, great, thanks for your help.”

I was given my room key and I made my tired way up to the 3rd floor. Blehck. ‘What is that smell?’ It was a mix of deodorizer, stained carpet and old wallpaper, overpowered by the stale, noxious stench of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. I pawed my way through the smoky air, nearly dropping to a crawl to move below the dark cloud. I felt the doorknob to make sure it wasn’t hot and opened the door. Woah! My short hairs were blowing backwards from the blast of smoke that was forcing its way out of the room. My lungs collapsed from its toxic attack. I fought my way into the room and had a look around. It was clean, but the stench was unbearable. I opened the window and turned the fan to maximum capacity. I had hoped it would air it out after a few minutes chatting with Neil, but there was no chance. I repacked my belongings and rolled my luggage down to the front desk to request a non-smoking room. I hadn’t even considered that it was a smoking floor. Unfortunately, there were only two rooms available, both on the smoking floor. Great. It looks like I won’t be unpacking anything tonight. The clothes that I am wearing are already putrid. Even my hands and arms smell. You might think that I am exaggerating, but I assure you that I am not. The smell sticks to absolutely everything and I’ve only been here for a couple of hours.  I’m afraid to consider the stench after eight hours. Hopefully, a non-smoking room will free-up tomorrow and I’ll be out of this stench. Otherwise, we’re cutting our stay really short and I’ll check out Friday night in search of another location. It really is that bad.