How do you find a way into a new city? A place of 44 square miles and 600,000 people, that you have just 7 days to grasp. Through top-5s and must-sees, skimming surfaces and sights. Or do you apply the philosophy of home and live as the locals do. Vancouver has a city-wide campaign that plumps for the latter, titled appropriately We Are Local. Highlighting boutiques and cafes, bike stores and cooking schools, rather than acquariums and museums, its apt for a city that is defined not by one location, but stretches across diverse neighborhoods and shifts depending on where you are standing, that day.
Here’s We Are Local’s take on city exploration: “Supporting locally-owned, independent businesses will make you feel witty, clever and charming. You’re looking for more reasons to shop locally? Well, for starters, the products and experiences found in independently-owned locations reflect your individuality and are infinitely more interesting than those found in chain stores and restaurants.
And, did you know that when you shop locally it keeps more money in the community – that’s right, feeding your neighbours equals instant karma points. Mother Nature loves local too; the impact on the environment is less when shopping locally. But the very best part of supporting local businesses is discovering the people and communities that make a city unique.”
So marketing bought into I took in Main Street, Canadian style, which is not the Main Street that we know in the USA. This avenue on the east side of Vancouver traverses SOMA, a former dogdy area that underwent the classic process of artistic gentrification in 1990s. It's now a staunchly hipster stretch which has (vintage) chic among old school shabby.
I found my way down it through something I’ve come to label “bakery-hopping”. Too old for a bar crawl, and too busy for brunch, it’s the equivalent of sampling and socialising across multiple destinations. Plus baked goods make me happy. Not for the sugar rush and the boxes, but they remind me of going on the round with my dad when I was growing up. While he talked to the customers, I’d get to eat eccles cakes straight off the production line, sip mugs of tea with freshly made oakcakes, pull slabs from loaves with the guy that just made them. We’d always arrive early as the day was getting started, share a snack and some banter, and be on our way. In my imagined parallel life, I’d be a baker.
Today, on the other side of the counter, meandering Main Street, I bought baked goods as sides to coffee, baked goods as fluff or jewellery, baked goods as nostalgia. There were morning buns at Kafta, lemon bars at Coco et Olive, and finally, pumpkin cream cheese muffins and cookie sandwiches at The Last Crumb. All eaten en plein air by False Creek’s Portobello West market, in the rain of course, this being Vancouver.
The moral of the story: If you can’t be local, find a way to travel local. Neighborhoods: these are the things that change, create and communicate a city. The sights will be there later, the scones might not.