Granville Island has always felt vaguely weird to me, as if it doesn't quite occupy the same world that we live in... actually, no. That's a stupid poeticism; if it didn't occupy the same world, it wouldn't show up on satellite maps and the Granville Street Bridge would collapse into False Creek, which would hardly do wonders for Vancouver's already-congested traffic situation. It's more that it's an odd juxtaposition that I've never encountered elsewhere. An artists' colony, effectively, on an old industrial island - one that still has a working cement factory, mind you - with a roof in the form of the arching steel of the Granville Street Bridge's underside.
Granville Island feels more like where two different worlds intersect - and, like Monster Island, it is actually a peninsula.
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