Ep 36: The Commute

Intro

If you were an African child, you might be familiar with the stories my Ghanaian parents loved telling me about the “good old days”—tales of walking for kilometres over hills, through valleys, and across rivers just to get to school or work.

As a young Ghanaian man myself, it is only right for me to carry out the tradition. But instead of relying on anecdotal (and likely exaggerated) tales, I decided to collect some hard evidence and memories, hehe.

Downtown Vancouver is a 30-minute trip from mine by skytrain or car, but this Thursday I wondered what walking that 10+ km route to work would look like?

Sketched out on Footpath, it was a daunting 2-hour trek cutting through city streets and neighbourhoods I'd only zoomed past before. Impractical? Definitely. But something about the idea of transforming my commute into an urban adventure felt oddly liberating. A challenge to undertake not for utility, but for the pure, twisted joy of it.

The Walk

It was a cloudy morning—the type where it feels like it might rain but never quite commits. I set off, towards Boundary Road, the one dividing Burnaby and Vancouver, and passed a familiar sidewalk. Last time, this sidewalk was barely walkable, but today, though still not in the best condition, it was alright (great, another road segment to walk for Gogomi to mark as complete!)

I noticed details usually lost in the blur of a bus or train ride: mushrooms sprouting in the grass, the quiet charm of residential streets branching off the main road.

I got distracted by some fall foliage and missed my original turn. Ended up branching on Napier St instead, strolling through autumn suburban lawns with fallen leaves and the occasional bit of road kill.

Then I hit a wall. Well, not literally, it was more of a fence really, blocking off the Highway 1 leading into North Van. Perfect spot to pause and check the map. One third done, but still had to make it in time for standup at the office.

The next stretch, cutting across the Grandview-Woodland neighbourhood, was long, straight, and contemplative. You know how when you do something repetitive for a while, like walking, your mind just sort of...drifts? Gets lost in the rhythm of the movement? Yeah, that. Thoughts untethered, I wandered the leaf-lined streets until I got to Woodland Park to pause for a bit.

Union Street was my cue to snap back to the present. The railway tracks, the bustling edge of Strathcona and Chinatown—I was close.

Time to reorient. On the Footpath map, my route downtown looked so simple, a straight shot. But in reality, bridges, viaducts, and all manner of urban obstacles were between me and my destination. Good thing I'd already walked most of the streets around, so I knew the way: up and over the Georgia Viaduct.

One glance at the viaduct's worn walking path confirmed this was the road less traveled. But there was a certain charm to it: the mossy edges, the bird's-eye view of the tennis courts and playgrounds below, alive with the joyful shrieks of kids at play, even on this overcast day. Did their parents also treat them with embellished tales of epic walks to school back in the day? I chuckled at the thought.

Partway across the viaduct, a familiar sight: the Millennium Line skytrain whizzing by beneath me. In a parallel universe, that'd be me aboard, hurtling toward another day at the office. But not today. Today, I was the one looking down on that commuter life, having traded speed for the slow satisfaction of foot travel. Downtown at last.

Passed by W Georgia St, a few offices, buildings and the view shifted from suburban homes to soaring skyscrapers. The walk had been long, absurd, and more satisfying than I ever expected. Indulgent? Oh yes. Impractical? 100%. But also eye-opening and weirdly energising.

And the timing couldn't have been better. I strolled into the office, a bit sweatier and a lot more excited than usual, right on time for our morning standup. My colleagues might have wondered about my goofy grin, but hey, when you've just finished an epic journey that puts your parents' stories to shame, you're allowed some smugness, right?