We woke early again — still firmly on East Coast time — which turned out to be a gift. In December this far north, the sun doesn't rise until nearly 8:00 AM, so when we stepped out along the waterfront the city was still wrapped in deep blue pre-dawn light. Holiday lights glowing everywhere, the harbor calm, streets empty — just us, glass towers softly lit from within, and mountains barely outlined against the sky. It felt like a private walking tour of Vancouver: cool harbor air, reflections in the water, silence broken only by footsteps. One of those rare travel moments where the place introduces itself gently.
The author of Generation X and Microserfs is also a visual artist and cultural observer of West Coast identity, technology, and modern mythology — and his influence threads through the Fairmont Pacific Rim. His work plays with consumerism, digital life, West Coast optimism mixed with irony, and the idea of "home" in a globalized world. Some pieces playful, others quietly unsettling — classic Coupland. It gives the hotel a real sense of place: you're reminded you're in Vancouver, not just "a nice hotel somewhere."
Pastries, Pretzels & Peak Festive
Aimee surprised me with Superflux beer — one of Vancouver's standout craft breweries, very much a "this city, right now" beer. Then came the pastries: from Gruffo, cube-shaped pistachio croissants — laminated perfection, rich, indulgent, and absolutely not designed with treadmill math in mind. Future-us will deal with that. The Vancouver Christmas Market was everything you want: easily 100 stalls of food, drinks, ornaments, and festive chaos. A giant Bavarian pretzel, dark beers for me, mulled wine for Aimee, a hot Aperol Spritz (which should honestly be illegal it's so good), and yes, a photo with Santa. 🎅 When the info lady asked, "Did you find the elf on the shelf?", we hadn't — until Aimee realized she'd already photographed it earlier without knowing, and we were rewarded with ornaments and 3D glasses that turn all the lights into snowflakes. Worth it.
The Tesla Ride & AI Incident
We took the SeaBus across to North Vancouver — fast, scenic, and apparently the entire city had the same idea: the North Van market was a full-on shoulder-to-shoulder disaster zone. We bailed, regrouped at Shaketown Brewery for an IPA (salvation), and decided to Lyft back. Enter Amir, in a Tesla, very into his Tesla, into Grok AI, and specifically into Grok in conspiracy mode. He asked if we wanted to talk to it. We said yes. Mistakes were made.
What followed was an increasingly unhinged AI saga involving: my friend Jake, a stolen shift at Subway, $20 he owes me, fake sick calls, surfing at Rincon, 52-meter rogue waves, reptilian creatures, MIT conspiracies, and Grok fully abandoning its original persona. At some point Amir gave Aimee a literal ticket 🎟️ because he could no longer cope with what was happening. By the time Grok had collapsed into a Subway-related surfing revenge narrative, we were back at the hotel. Journey complete.
We landed in the lobby bar — fresh veggie Asian dishes, a few drinks, Superflux IPA for the win — then upstairs to The Citizens' room to catch up on Vancouver life, how progressive the city feels, and just how good Christmas hits up here. Eventually the day caught up with all of us. Lights out. Brains full. Steps logged. AI broken. Vancouver, you've been excellent.