Vancouver Ventures | DAY 12: Metrotown, Crystal Mall + BGM Recap

Midnight talks had led to delayed slumber. As my head didn't hit the pillow till the wee hours of the morning, the following day's schedules were consequently impeded.

Our journey towards Burnaby would now take place in the late morning hours instead.

​Six days had passed acquisition of my permanent Ahgase marking. I awoke to find the design cracking at the wing, which alarmed me slightly until I recalled that the shedding of skin was a natural process and simultaneously a pivotal one in the process of healing.

​Metrotown would assume our first stop. Traffic conditions were acceptable during the off-peak period, and locating parking within the garage wasn't tragic either. I'd liken the excursion to a Yorkdale trip on a weekend morning.

We'd arrive in time for lunch, coming face to face with a bustling food court. Venturing a bit beyond the boisterous space, my eyes fell upon hula.

​The poke bar operated by a husband and wife duo. The man appeared to be of Hawaiian descent, though the tanned skin could have been linked to Filipino origins as well. His primary focus was assembly of the bowls, while his wife, a thin, pale Korean woman tended to customers and cashier duty.

​All bowls were priced at $16 or under - utterly unheard of in the Toronto scene in recent years. We took to sharing a Yuzu Bowl with a four-dollar Double Fish add-on of Ahi Tuna and Salmon. The description noted inclusions of: yuzu, ginger sesame, avocado, cucumber, edamame beans, carrot, furikake, black sesame, crispy onions, and kale. However, the twenty-dollar bowl did not present itself as colourful as the menu had indicated.

​I appreciated the abundant portion of kale, which had been chopped into fine pieces for ease of eating and maintained crispy edges for textural interest. The chosen treatment had remarkably rendered the leaves crispier than fried garlic. Our chosen base of coconut rice was also interesting: the grains weren't sticky whatsoever, since Basmati had been used in place of East Asian short-grain varieties, yet tinged with the aromatic essence of coconut.

The Double Fish option earned us enough protein for a two people. Other toppings were fresh and seasoned thoroughly with soy sauce, though the presence of yuzu and ginger weren't detectable at all. In contrast to the excessively saucy, creamier profiles of GTA counterparts, the bowl shifted emphasis on its varied constituents. Nevertheless, it remained comparatively less complex due to its heavy reliance on just soy and salt. With that in mind, the meal appeased our low levels of hunger, but did not exactly deliver contentment through consumption.

​Seating was limited to a few bar stools adjacent to the pick-up area. At our time of arrival, a solo diner had taken to the corner spot while scrolling on her phone. She departed shortly afterwards, bidding farewell to the lady behind the cashier in Korean upon completion of her meal.

The same woman would offer water to us while we sat at the bar. The plastic cups entailed no extra charge, constituting a considerate gesture that had admittedly caught us by surprise.

​Hula was home to a tropical menu, friendly and quick service, and a compact yet cozy seating area away from the food court. That said, our requested order did not live up to the expectations of West Coast poke.

​Venturing through the corridors embellished with aquatic wildlife installations, we chanced across the local favourite of Steve's Poke Bar while browsing the mall later on. The bowls were notably more economic and featured a plethora of colourful ingredients. The eatery will simply have to assume a spot during upcoming Burnaby travels.

Browsing the three-level shopping centre enabled discovery of eclectic productions by local, independent artists, Vancouver Exclusive merchandise at Uniqlo, and impressive deals at Mountain Warehouse. The same sports apparel destination had continued to pursue incredible markdowns, a unisex part-storage room/part-fitting room facility at the back, and even carried a few tops in larger sizes leftover from two years ago.

​Amusing it was to find both Daiso and OOMOMO within the same mall! The rebranded Japanese dollar store featured similar products to OOMOMO, with the exception of exclusive Disney collaboration items (laundry bags), Daiso-branded merchandise, and a greater assortment of gardening, homeware, and sporting equipment.

​OOMOMO would be located away from the centre court, in a severely stuffy corner of the mall. Due to its poor ventilation, I merely entered the front section of the shop before departing for fresh air.

​Couturist had not deviated from its last recalled location.

The store boasted trendy apparel and accessories, prompting my eventual purchase of pearly heart earrings with a dangly floral hoop. It is worth noting that the Metrotown outpost appears to consistently feature neater, chicer articles than the condensed storefront on Robson.

​As I continued roaming, my footsteps led me towards a hidden arcade - one that was out of plain sight, anyway - tucked behind Old Navy.

​I'd not partake in any games, though excitedly noted the availability of Taiko no Tatsujin and three distinct versions of DDR and Pump It Up! 

We'd pay a visit to the filthy indoor plumbing facilities before departing. Chipped doors, rusty faucets, and damp stall floors with hair characterized the undesirable stopover.

​Next, we'd venture several minutes west towards Crystal Mall.

Unthinkable it was for these totally dissimilar destinations to be situated in the same neighbourhood. For as long as I could recall, we'd never omit a trip to the densely populated marketplace. Brimming with a variety of houseware outlets, food trend vendors, and hair salons, Crystal Mall could be likened to Pacific Mall back home. However, unique to the mall was a ground-level marketplace: a Chinese take on a farmer's market inclusive of a butcher shop, fish market, dried herbs, and seasonal produce.

​On the upper level was a food court and more retailers.

The Lemon Americano tasted more of lemon tea than coffee. It was also not nearly as delicious, invigorating, nor potent as Hazukido's Orange Americano, the drink I had based my decision upon.

Initially, I hadn't visualize the difference between F5 Peanut Butter French Toast and F12 Peanut Butter and Condensed Milk on Toast. The latter was priced at $5.50, while the former nearly double at $9. It wasn't until receipt of the gargantuan portion that its cost was concluded justified.

​Impressive alone was the presentation of the French Toast. Its sheer size deemed it a dish to be shared. The substantial slab bore wonderfully crisp edges, including a network of sweet, brittle strands along the perimeter. Its golden, condensed milk-coated grandeur promised utmost delectability, which the specimen delivered lavishly.

​Extraordinary and exquisite, the French Toast was stunning synthesis of audible crunch and oozing peanut butter between layers of tender, plush enriched loaves. A gratifying drizzle of sweetened condensed milk finished the indulgent afternoon snack.

Admittedly, the treat became slightly satiating towards the midway point, but the Lemon Americano helped to appease the fullness until depletion.

The corridors would be explored briefly afterwards, though there was little to see. KR Multimedia, the overpriced outpost that was once my go-to for all things K-Pop, had since relocated to different unit, but was closed during our time of visit.

I was surprised to find Cafe Eggstatic at the same coordinates as it had been eight years prior (Van Voyage D21). Across the aisle, the drinkable yogurt vendor to which orderlyblue had expressed aversion had already been replaced with a bubble tea counter.

A mandatory visit to Seventeen Leung would precede a brisk stroll through the exterior pathways, then back into the mall to verify cleanliness of the food court-level washroom facilities.
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In spite of the toilet paper dispenser being comprehensively duct taped, the stalls were actually much cleaner than Metrotown; even the automated flush system functioned better.

The ideal Burnaby outing would have included journeying to the new-and-upcoming section along North Road. Unfortunately, a BGM schedule and imminent rush hour traffic would persuade our return to Richmond. Just short of 6 PM, the drive back averaged forty-three minutes for a measly distance of 16.6 km.

​At 7:20 PM, I'd embark on my first "Intermediate/Advanced Choreography" class at BGM. The instructor, Angel, would be teaching the choreography of another dancer utilizing footage from the Mainland Chinese video portal of bilibili.
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For reasons beyond me, the class would start ten minutes late at 7:30 PM, instead of 7:20 PM, as noted on the schedule. The instructor had arrived well in advance of the start time, but opted to converse with regulars in rough-sounding Mandarin in in the interim.

​My primary elements of evaluation would be her method of teaching, in particular the approach used to convey the moves to her students. Known to teach K-Pop boy group dances with rigidity and explosive power, her interpretation of the choreography wasn't as fluid as the original. Neither would she draw attention to the details (aura, hand gestures, lightness of steps, etc.), nor inform on the timing of the moves. The class comprised of significantly fewer cues than Nancy; Angel would not demo (dance along) on the side like Yaebin either.

Given that I still wasn't certain about beats, I attempted to link the movements to lyrics and changes in melody, though the few pointers and lack of repetition from Angel would hinder the process of familiarization and memorization. As the class went on, I began forgetting more and more of the choreography, probably a cause of fatigue from the packed agenda undertaken beforehand.

​By the end of the session, I was still dissatisfied with my performance. I did not feel accomplished whatsoever and instead experienced regret towards not being able to execute the choreography to the desired level of competency. With each run, I became more more forgetful. It was a shame, given the knowledge that I could do much better.

The lack of guidance and encouragement had likely impacted the performance. Results of her program were evident across the students' faces and bodies: worried expressions, unsure limbs, and off-beat timing were telltale of the instructor's teaching competencies. Needless to say, there was minimal consideration towards exceeding - or even fulfilling - her minimum duties, unlike Nancy's comprehensive cues and imagery and Yaebin's fiery passion.

​I'd later review my footage, as well BGM's pricing system on their mobile app. With a 3-Class Intro Package priced at $30, 2-Class Drop-In Package at $25, and 12-Class Progressive Package at $180, each session would fall within the $10-$15 range. The cost per class would prove even more inviting with the Gold, Diamond, and Platinum packages at $10, $9.47, and $9.22 respectively. With this in mind, it suffices to say that BGM offers the best value for any drop-in dance studio experienced to date. I appreciated the establishment's availability of drop-in and progressive class formats for a variety of genres, as well as the reasonable time slots throughout the week (ie. not 9:30 PM on a Tuesday evening). Most persuasive are the structured schedule releases, which is a rarity anywhere in the GTA, punctuality, and complimentary video capture and same-day uploads.

Should I be a Richmond resident, BGM would see my attendance at significantly higher frequency.

​By the end of the evening, I'd start to worry about luggage space. Perhaps I had bought - or rather, brought - too much.