A bit of time has gone by without much posting, so I hope to make that up with this one. (Incidentally, the first post now has pictures, in case you want to go back and have a look at that one.)

After getting off the train, there were two days of the UBC institute that made up the business part of the trip. Not much to write about there, without boring some of you, so I’ll leave that out.

Next, a visit with friend Steve at the Flying Beaver Pub near the airport. Great restaurant, right out on the water, where you can watch the float planes take off and land. Great food too – I had a Pad Thai that may not have been authentic, but was definitely tasty.

Before that, I took a little time to catch a few landings.

A little planespotting.

After lunch, off to Granville Island to fill up the data card on my camera.

Granville Island.

Granville Island. Another bridge shot. I like bridges.

Guess what? Another bridge shot.

The evening’s activity was the Cold Reading Series at the Billy Bishop Legion, as a guest of friend Deb. Great fun – I offered my services as a reader but as it turned out they had plenty that night. Afterwards it was downstairs for a pint and some conversation.

Cold Reading Series at the Billy Bishop Legion.

Which brings me to today, which was spent on the UBC campus, and mostly at the Museum of Anthropology. The MOA’s collections are superb, so I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Museum of Anthropology, totem figure.

MOA main hall.

MOA main hall again.

A Zen Buddhist monk, the founder of Asian Zen Buddhism. For someone who’s attained Nirvana, he doesn’t seem pleased about it.

Bill Reid’s famous sculpture under the skylight.

On the way back to the Rose Garden Parkade, I realized the name wasn’t just an attempt at beautification. There actually is a rose garden on top of the parkade.

The Rose Garden at UBC, a last-minute delight.

By any other name.

And, after a leisurely trip back through rush hour traffic, past familiar landmarks (my old apartment on 4th Avenue, The Naam, Videomatica’s sad empty shell), I found my way back to my Richmond digs. Tomorrow, it’s the Museum of Vancouver, and then a little baseball.