We took a 1990鈥檚 guide to 麻豆传媒映画sightseeing so we could get a sense of how much the city has changed. Follow this disjointed adventure as it unfolds, or learn more about the series
Gastown
I鈥檓 sorry. Time travel is proving more difficult than I thought, and over the course of the day, my guide and I have become long long-winded, melodramatic, insufferable bores. As I step onto Water Street and into Gastown, it鈥檚 obvious I am having some kind of existential breakdown. What鈥檚 changed here since the 90s? Is it better? Worse? What does it matter?! I鈥檓 dying. You鈥檙e dying. We鈥檙e all dying! Hell, my guide is already dead! And any attempt to catalogue a world that鈥檚 moving at a blinding pace, with or without us, seems ultimately futile.
Suddenly, my mini-meltdown is interrupted by the Gastown steam clock, ushering in 6pm. I hate this goddamn clock! But tonight, something in its baritone chime sounds different, comforting, romantic even. With my guide in hand, I impulsively walk up to it and wrap my arms around its glass spire as听it rings in the last chortle of the hour. Flashbulbs from the small audience gathered at the corner of Water and Cambie go off at a paparazzi-like pace. I feel free of the听need to hold onto the past, so I let go. I mean, I鈥檓 probably just drunk from drinking all my guide鈥檚 drinks in , but if there鈥檚 anything I am sure of, it鈥檚 that this steam clock will be here forever. And in a small way, so will my guide and I 鈥� our images captured with the clock by random strangers, instantly stored in the cryptic permanence of cloud archives that belong to all that witnessed this random act of here and now 鈥� forever.
The steam clock, just after striking 6pm.
鈥淭his is the world鈥檚 first steam-powered clock and, despite its antique appearance, was built in 1977,鈥� my guide says in an attempt to sober the moment with a caution about Gastown鈥檚 authenticity, and the validity of our portrait. Its reportage has a business-like tone that symbolically wipes the tears from my eyes, hands me a moist wipe, and gives me a stiff smack on the back that says 鈥� let鈥檚 get back to work, finish what we started and when we鈥檙e done, destroy me so I never have to go through this again. And so our story begins.
Many places operating here in the 90s mirrored Gastown鈥檚 origin story. In the 1970s, it was was decaying, and in an attempt to revitalize the area, city planners laid quaint cobblestone streets lit with Victorian lamps, making the area look historic and charming. It lead many a tourist and local alike to believe its antiquity was 100% authentic. The Old Spaghetti Factory, one of the establishments still operating that my guide suggests for dinner, was one of the first restaurants here. Its old-timey knick knacks, endless loaves of free bread, cheap wine, and large tables to gather friends at make it a great spot to experience the remnants of Gastown鈥檚 original underpinnings as a museum-like heritage park.
The Managers FAVOURITE听at Old Spaghetti Factory:1995:听"About $13"听
2015: $12.40
Nothing in the guide鈥檚 dining descriptions captures my imagination like Brother鈥檚 Restaurant, though. Apparently, aspiring actors would often find their way into a robe there as servers.听Diners were entertained with theatre and song while they ate. 鈥�With Gregorian chants emanating from its front door and wait staff dressed in monks鈥� habits, the 鈥楤rothers鈥� serve items like the Monastery Burger ($8).鈥� As much as I鈥檇 love to revel in Gastown鈥檚 campy caricatures of the past, where Brother鈥檚 and Old Spaghetti Factory existed with the converted railway dining car of the The Chew Chew Club on Alexander, magic nights and jazz at Blake鈥檚 on Carrall, and live music at Mick鈥檚 Restaurant & Rhythm Bar at 332 Water, they were anomalies. By the 90s, Gastown had begun its evolution into something more contemporary, something entirely its own.
The former monastery at 1 Water Street that was Brother鈥檚 Restaurant is now The Secret Locaion
Today, Gastown has fully evolved. The Secret Location, a mash-up of lifestyle boutique and restaurant, has replaced Brother鈥檚 at 1 Water Street, Blacktail entertains with small plates instead of the live music that was found at Mick鈥檚, while Six Acres, The Diamond, Pourhouse, and the听Revel Room, have all helped to continue the work Steamworks started听in ushering the craft beer and cocktail era听that's听currently flourishing here.
Drinking in 90s Gastown:Craft beer brewpubs: 1
Craft cocktail lounges: 0
My guide keeps up with its business-like reports, helping to keep us focused on our mission as we step into Gaolers Mews, 鈥渢he location of the city鈥檚 first jail, customs house and home to Gastown鈥檚 first constable.鈥� Now it鈥檚 the apex of dining 2.0 in Gastown. Places like 尝'础产补迟迟辞颈谤别鈥檚 French influenced West Coast fare, 笔别办颈苍辫补丑鈥檚 southern BBQ, Cork & Fin鈥檚 fresh seafood, and just out the lane and into Blood Alley, sits Salt Tasting Room. None of these places are chains. Each is unique unto itself. A refreshing sight after time spent along Robson Street, and in Yaletown. But not as quenching as more alcohol to stave off another episode of anxiety about my own mortality that this journey听seems to be exacerbating.
鈥淕uide,鈥� I say, 鈥渓et鈥檚 party like it鈥檚 1999.鈥�
鈥�Club 212 presents the latest in progressive dance music,鈥� it returns within seconds.
鈥淧erfect!鈥� As we march onto Carrall Street together, expecting to find a raging dance party just after 6pm. It's not much of a surprise when we听instead听find the Irish Heather at 212 Carrall,听which was here in the 90s too, but where L'Abattoire now resides. Surprisingly, neither my guide or I are affected by the sudden change in plans, and we quickly adapt to pubbing over clubbing 鈥� why it it remains silent about the Blarney Stone, one of Gastown鈥檚 longest running pubs is at once mysterious, yet totally obvious.
My guide, enjoying a guinness in an unbranded glass.
鈥淭he Irish Heather not only pours the best Guinness in town - but supposedly sells the second-most pints of the dark stuff in Canada,鈥� my guide says. I check to see if the fact holds true with our bartender as we take a seat at the bar. Indeed, the Irish Heather still runs a close second behind a pub in Whistler when it comes to pouring Guinness. I order 2, stand my guide up on the bar, wrap its pages around one of them, and have a chat with the our server. We talk at length about Club 212, the low income residents that Gastown鈥檚 revitalization in the 1970鈥檚 displaced further east, and the unavoidable displeasures of change 鈥� even with something as trivial as drinking. The addition of a bumpy, embossed harp on the Guinness glass, which had remained unchanged for decades, is a real sore spot for our bartender.
鈥淚t just doesn鈥檛 feel feckin right. If Guinness forced us to use the their new glass with the harp in it, we鈥檇 stop servin' Guinness. That鈥檚 'ow strongly we believe in honorin' the past,鈥� my Irish bartender says with confidence while finishing the 2nd pour. If there wasn鈥檛 a bar separating us, the guide and I would hug him too. Instead, the three of us sit in silence, united by our unbranded, rogue Guinness glasses.
Saved by the clock tower! Find听out how the 90s viewed the DTES, and get听ready to take听your听seat at a听dinner table in Chinatown next Thursday.听
