There is this dreary thick haze hanging over the city lately. It’s like fog, but it seems wetter and more lingering. We found ourselves downtown last night, wandering Robson, tripping in and out of all the stores and shoppes, sneaking by the numerous sushi restaurants wondering when we’d even begin to find the time to try them all. Gyozas, noodles, and raw fish everywhere we looked — except up, as the tops of the buildings were shrouded in the fog creating this lurking mysterious effect of being surrounded by something that was barely even there.

We hit Denman, found a little tea shop that sold extremely generous pieces of cake, and each tried a slice, completely blowing out dessert budget for the next few weeks. There were even leftovers. Lots and lots of leftovers. I’m going to be eating cake all weekend.

Now if only someone hadn’t been loading gravel into the back of a truck right outside our window (it seems) at seven o’clock this morning, I would be in a much better mood. Late night. Early morning. You do the math.