Being located on Granville Island, the hotel is surrounded by such a strong and vibrant art community. With artists, thespians, and musicians, the island offers something for everyone. The hotel is very proud to say that we are also the occasional dwelling of a poet. Below is a poem written by our hotel guest Mr. Bryan Cook. After reading this poem, and consulting Mr. Cook, I decided his poem should be available for everyone to read! Notes about the poem by the author:
A Context for “Winter on Granville Island”
Bryan and Tanya Cook stopped in Vancouver in January 27-29, 2010 at the Granville Island Hotel, on their way to Hawaii. Once again the misted, winter jewel of the island captured their hearts. They dined locally with long-time friend Irene Goldstone who graciously shared her beautiful city with them. This poem was written over the Pacific heading for Kaua’i.
Winter on Granville Island
Eclectic Isle of winter mists and rains,
Sheening boardwalks and ancient rails,
Relics of colonial trade;
Where ketch and luxury yacht now haven find past deco span,
Safe from Pacific swell in False Creek’s calm.
A western silhouette of snowy peaks graced by English Bay,
Hosts setting suns to amber the clouded haze and
Pierce the rusting girders of the Granville Bridge;
Iron gateway to the Island streets
Where life’s pace slows and urban stress retreats.
Ringed by a million dollar condominium view,
The Island’s low- rise kaleidoscope of grays, yellows, greens and blues,
Nurtures in its heart the vibrant passion of Miss Carr;
Leather, fabric, gem and fine art studios
Neighbor metal foundry, boat dry docks and concrete silos.
The Island once was under docker rule,
Hotels of notoriety, thirst quenched by local brews;
By-passed by trade, abandoned to vagrant life and sixties escape,
She’s now reborn to welcome all who seek her charms
In parks, in floating homes and experimental theater barns.
Incessant water beetles criss-cross the bay,
Ferrying daily shoppers to the Open Market’s maze
Of stalls, overflowing with the fruits of land and sea;
Aromatic coffee roast, vibrant orchid sprays,
Pacific seafood brined and smoked in many tempting ways.
Island dining is a secret poorly kept of maritime menus:
Here, a hotel brews fine ale to complement Salt Spring blues,
There, a fishing smack hangs raftered over sushi, ocean fresh.
Aztec pipes echo haunting melodies from the row,
An evening stroll sees floured bakers raising morning’s dough.
At the point stands sentinel a silent cargo crane,
Ochre- yellow, tracked witness to the Island’s heritage fame.
Before the dawn, black scions of those who haunted once her wharfs and railcars
Now flock her gantries, there to recount with raucous caw
The continuing saga of the Island’s times ‘til drawn by market scraps once more.
Bryan Douglas Cook January 2011
At the hotel we encourage you to share your photography, art, or a poem or two. We look forward to seeing your creativity!