I went for an aimless bike ride on a recent weekend, and stopped along the way to wander into a condo under construction, a church basement, an arena and the old barns at PNE, and the presentation centre for Kensington Gardens condos, which is inside an old Canadian Tire building on Kingsway.

There were a lot of prospective home buyers milling around, so I was pleasantly neglected. After drinking in the display suites and the architectural models, I slipped past a small "Staff Only" sign, in search of a washroom. Then I stepped through this door, which was hanging open:

... and snooped around the cluttered, dusty, abandoned back and staff areas of the old store.

On my way out, I was sure to pick up their condo price list and one of their massive glossy advertising packages, each of which must cost $20 or more to print, and of which they had piles of boxes behind the scenes. I most enjoy the architect's CAD renderings, with their superreal buildings and their happy, unnatural, cut-and-pasted looking people.

The other night I hopped over the fence of my first security-guarded construction site. When I checked, the guard (or at least a guard) was in his car, reading with the interior light on, on the opposite side of the building. However, he (or another guard) soon discovered me in the parkade.

He was puzzled and annoyed, and took a disapproving paternal attitude towards my hobby. "You don't seem like a troublemaker. But you are young, and have much life ahead of you to live, and you must live honorably. If you get in trouble with the police, that could make your future very difficult." I explained that this was a risk I was willing to take, and that I hoped my harmless exploring wasn't too inherently dishonorable. He wanted to know (inevitably) how I'd gotten in, so I walked him back to the low part of the fence, then apologized again, hopped back over it, waved, and went away. He watched me, scowling, till I was out of sight.

So exploration isn't quite a victimless crime. Charming and disarming as I tried to be, that security guard's night probably wasn't exactly improved by our encounter. Whether or not he was technically breaking the rules by letting me go, he must have felt a little put-upon. He wouldn't engage in small talk with me, because, as he pointed out, his job was to keep people off the site at night, so I wasn't letting him do his job.

I like to think, though, that I am perhaps doing some small good. I am perhaps planting the seed of the idea that not everyone who hops fences at night is a troublemaker. And perhaps, for every vulnerable point of entry that I am forced to divulge, I am also making a little point of entry in the hearts of security guards all over town.

Two highlights for me of Doors Open Vancouver were the Vancouver Police Tactical Training Centre and Queen Elizabeth Theatre. The TTC's hour-long tour was impossible to sneak away from, but not boring.

The 25-meter firing range.

The 50-meter firing range.

Foam-padded foam-furnished foam room for practicing scenarios.

The Queen Elizabeth Theatre was closing to the public, to my surprise, just when I arrived, so I pretended not to hear that fact and "explored" the dimmest recesses of the auditorium for a few minutes while people were being ushered out. Then I spent 45 minutes crawling all over the place, including a fan room, on stage, in the orchestra pit, back stage, etc.

The rather dingy green room.

Rehearsal room.

I saw a few other buildings too.

A few downtown hotel pools:

One of these is totally accessible; only the change rooms are keycard locked, but you can change in the bathroom inside the pool area. One of these is accessible from the sundeck a floor up. One of these, currently under construction, is occasionally accessible: sometimes the door isn't locked. Another, not pictured here, is almost always accessible, since the door to the pool and fitness area is not well fitted, and usually sticks open. One of these is inaccessible without "social engineering," though all I had to do was knock and the attendant let me in. (He also had to let me into the change room.) I didn't give him any explanation, just smiled and thanked him -- though I did have a hotel towel over my shoulder.

As a bonus, here is a picture of a downtown hotel roof (quite accessible):