What kind of Vancouver explorer are you this fall?

You knew about that café before it had a sign. You send the pin, then move on to the next one before anyone replies. Vancouver keeps opening things because it knows you'll show up first.

Two hands on the cup, a window with weather in it, and no plans until the rain stops. In Vancouver, that means no plans. You are the friend people come to when they need to slow down.

You have a mental map of every mochi, gelato and cotton-candy counter from Richmond to Burnaby, sorted by how they photograph. You've never once said "I'm too full."

Seawall in the drizzle, hood up, headphones in. You think the city looks better wet and you're right. You own more plants than furniture.

Your Vancouver starts at 8 pm. Dumplings in Richmond, hot pot when it's cold, and you've never seen the seawall before noon. You are excellent company and terrible at mornings.

The list exists. The map exists. Parking is already sorted. You checked the Grouse webcam and the SkyTrain alerts before anyone was awake. Your friends don't plan; they just text you.

You get off the SkyTrain a stop early to see what's there. Golden hour finds you at Kits with the log and the mountains, and you'll take the photo but not post it. It's for you.

You don't visit places, you complete them. Three cities in one day is a normal Saturday, the full stamp card is the souvenir, and yes, you've already scanned the QR code.