Vancouver's 'False Creek' Was a Real Mess. Now It's a Global Blueprint.

Two hundred years ago, the ancestors of Talaysay Campo of the Squamish First Nation knew Vancouver's False Creek as a bustling aquaculture site. Clams, cockles, and all sorts of marine life thrived there, making it a natural pantry.

Then came the Europeans, who, in 1859, mistakenly named this 3-kilometer saltwater inlet a "creek" (it's very much not a creek, but the name stuck). Indigenous villages were dismantled, people were moved to reserves, and the inlet transformed into an industrial powerhouse. Sawmills, factories, and railyards replaced the vibrant sea gardens where octopus and sea cucumber once frolicked. Because apparently that's progress.

Fast forward to 1986, and the World Expo swooped in, turning 70 hectares of industrial blight into a futuristic showcase of pavilions and event spaces. This was the first hint that False Creek might have a second act beyond being a dumping ground for industry.