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Kits has always flirted with greatness. In the beginning it was great fishing, then there was that great view, the great alternative energy this is after all the neighbourhood that spawned Greenpeace and the great big patch of sand.
Once upon a time, in the year 1900 to be precise, a salmon-canning factory at the foot of Macdonald Street found itself way over its head trying to deal with the “hundreds of thousands of salmon” local fishermen had mounded at its doors. It may sound like a fairytale, but Kitsilano can be like that. Kits has become one of Vancouver’s most storied neighborhoods, one that started out as a series of Native fishing villages, then became a popular summer destination for wealthy Vancouverites who rowed themselves over for picnics and camping trips. By the turn of the last century permanent residents had begun to people the slopes above English Bay, building the first of the area’s now-treasured Craftsman homes. In the 1960s university students and hippies who loved the cheap rent, character homes and, most of all, the beach, comprised a significant part of the population.
West Fourth Avenue, otherwise known by then as Rainbow Road, had become a colourful conglomeration of vegetarian restaurants (the Naam is still, valiantly, there), alternative music stores and health food outlets. Today, of course, West Fourth tells a different story. You’ll still find UBC students and the odd new-millennium hippy, but those Craftsman homes now sell for seven figures. The head shops have been replaced by high-end haberdashers like Fab, Wear Else? and Lululemon. Food-wise, Capers has taken fava beans and sprouts to a whole new organic place, Sophie’s Cosmic Café has changed the face of brunch in this city, and Rob Feenie’s Lumiere has raised its fine-dining bar forever.
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None of which is surprising, really. Kits has always flirted with greatness. In the beginning it was great fishing, then there was that great view, the great alternative energy this is, after all, the neighbourhood that spawned Greenpeace and the great big patch of sand. Vanier Park is now known the world over for its yearly International Children’s Festival and the annual summertime Bard on the Beach Shakespeare festival. It’s also where families and visitors alike hang out, have picnics, fly kites, marvel at the view across English Bay to West Vancouver and create the sorts of stories they’ll retell for years to come. Speaking of which, have you heard the one about how Kitsilano got its name? It seems the leader of the Squamish Band that inhabited the land around Kits Point had earned himself an audience with the Queen. One can’t be introduced to the Queen without a name, and the Squamish didn’t issue them at the time. So, in a bind, the chief trundled southward up the hillside to the mouth of the Fraser River where the Musqueam Band lived. He asked the elders there if they wouldn’t mind giving him a name so he could meet Her Majesty. They named him Khatsahlanough, meaning “man of the lake.” The spelling was later changed by some hooked-on-phonics CPR executive, which wasn’t very nice after all that trouble, but it does make for another good story.
