On a Tuesday in May, I skulked around a condominium "village" in North Vancouver. To get from the finished area to the under-construction area, i.e., past the security fencing, I had only to hop over a belly-high fountain wall. Though there was no one around, this felt a little brave.

I climbed straight to the top, fifteen or twenty storeys, if I remember.

It looks, in fact, from the building next door, that I must have been up about twenty-three storeys.

Back on the ground and on my way out, I encountered a security guard idly strolling, ten meters away. Though he hadn't yet spotted me, he certainly would, so I called out a greeting, and, without breaking stride, hopped back over the wall. From the other side of the fence, he called out to me, "Is there anyone ...?"

"No," I said, putting on my bicycle helmet, "they've all gone home for the day."