When I first heard rumors of the Vancouver Night Market, images from Neil Gaiman’s floating market of London Below came to mind. A night market should be a little weird, a little gritty, and full of eccentric individuals. I should be able to buy roof maps or rooks, or maybe a few fresh dreams. And lost property—surely someone would be selling some properly lost property. And the place should be lit up with Christmas lights and oil lanterns. Filkers and medieval jugglers should busk between stalls full of hard-to-find wares, and the eccentric people should look that way all the time, not just a couple weekends of the year.

That’s the way my night market would be, anyway.

It’s important not to build up expectations. We found that out when we arrived at the tent village wedged between a warehouse and an arm of the  Fraser River. Right off, we…