Vancouver, BC

The Lonsdale Quay Hotel occupies two stories above the Lonsdale Quay Market, which itself has two stories. The building seems old, but it looks like the interior of the hotel rooms have been renovated and decorated in a nautical theme. The underground parking is for both the hotel and the market and the hotel charges CA$7 for overnight parking even if you're a guest.



After checking out, I headed to David's Cafe at the Esplanade, which was recommended by the clerk at the front desk. Their special of the day was salmon and feta wrapped in phyllo dough with baby greens sprinkled with raspberry vinaigrette. And, wow! The phyllo was crispy, the salmon was rare but good, the greens were fresh, the raspberry vinaigrette was sweet. Unfortunately, it's not part of their standard menu, so as much as I'd recommend going there, they may not have it when you go.

My tummy was still achy when I got up (although not as bad as last night), so I also passed by a drugstore for Pepto-Bismol. After lunch, I went back to the Lonsdale Quay Market to explore the shops. The market is actually reminiscent of Pike's Place Market in Seattle, but much smaller and more mainstream. There were regular shops along the perimeter, and in the center area of the first floor were stalls that sold fresh fruits and vegetables, jewelry, and arts and crafts.

In one corner of the first floor, I found an open shop that offered shiatsu massage. Well, let me just say that it was the best CA$45 I ever spent in this entire trip. The massage therapist was very good and he even massaged my aching tummy for me. It has been two years since I've had a real live massage and, oh, it felt so good. Even with all my clothes on. ;-) I don't know when the tummy ache disappeared, but it was gone by the time I went on the cruise.

There were a lot of people waiting at Harbour Cruises and more kept coming. Then a large boat called Brittania arrived and so many pre-teens were crowded at its bow. It turned out that the people were parents and siblings who were meeting this group of kids. So, it was very crowded while the kids unloaded the boat. At 2:15, the paddleboat Constitution arrived and we had to make our way through the Brittania crowd to get to our boat. There was a nice cool breeze and I got lots of pictures. This was a lot more interesting than the Red River cruise just because there was a lot to see: the Canada Center with the five "sails" and the Princess Cruise ship parked alongside it; the Chevron gas station right in the middle of the water; a sulphur factory with two high bright yellow piles in front; Stanley Park and the Lion's Gate Bridge; interesting boats of different types and sizes. Along with the usual seagulls, I saw a seal swimming in the water, which the tour guide missed. There were probably only about 25 people on board and most of them went on the third deck or indoors, so I pretty much had the outside of the second deck to myself.

My third stop was in Chinatown, the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden. As I overheard one of the other guests say, it's one of those places you go to with a fancy camera. And, sure enough, I saw more and more people with fancy cameras. I'm glad I got mine with me. I spent a long time in there. As I was focusing on the water lilies, an older couple walked by and told me about the turtles in the center lake. The woman said, "With your [kind of] camera, you'll take very good pictures [of the turtles]."

My last stop was the Harbour Centre Tower. It wasn't very high but had a good view of the city. Not too many interesting pictures from above though. But I met a Filipino, named Tomas, who was working at the snack bar. And we chatted for a long while. I was looking for a light dinner but they only had (huge!) cookies and beverages. So, I got an oatmeal cranberry cookie and iced tea, and sat at a bar stool facing north. After returning the plate, I was headed towards the elevator but something caught my eye that I decided to take a picture of. As I did, Mang Tomas walked by (he must have started his break) and we chatted even longer. It turns out that his wife is an accountant both in the Philippines and in Canada. She never had her own practice but it sounds like she's a very good auditor. So I got their email addresses, in case I need her services.

It was already almost 8pm when I started out. There wasn't that much traffic in the city itself or at the border. And it seemed like the cars in line for the border heading south all had Washington plates. The border guard seemed in a hurry to get rid of me. She even interrupted me several times to ask the next question. And she didn't ask too many questions either. She asked me what I was doing in Canada, and she was satisfied when I said I was moving from Minneapolis and I was just taking the scenic route. Somehow, I was expecting it to be harder to get into the US than it is to get into Canada. In a couple of minutes (waiting for my turn took much longer), I was back on the road. It took me a while to get back to reading the large numbers in my speedometer though. As I was speeding up, I saw the speed limit sign saying 70, and had a brief shock when my speedometer said I was going 100. The shock was only for a brief moment (although long enough for my foot to get off the gas pedal), because I realized I was looking at the kilometer scale.

A brief stop at a town near Mount Baker for gas and DQ drive-through, and pretty soon, I was seeing familiar signs. It was almost 11pm when I arrived at Katia's Bed & Breakfast (& Lunch & Dinner), where the rates are the best I've seen in this entire trip. ;-)

And so ends the Canadian adventure. But there'll be another trip soon, down to the Bay Area.



More pics here.

From AB to BC

The trip was mostly a daze, a very painful uncomfortable long daze. The cold is progressing nicely with a fever thrown in as well. And the heat of the sun wasn't helping keep my body temperature down. Coughing makes my skull feel like it's splitting into two. Even though I regained my hearing in the morning, I was half-deaf again in the evening. I hadn't had much sleep the previous night because of a nauseating tummy ache and diarrhea. I thought I had food poisoning, but the diarrhea went away and left the tummy ache behind. And the tummy ache got worse as the day went on. On top of that, all my muscles had a vague low-level pain, a very distinct pain in my lower back. Even my earlobes ached.

The hour and a half it took to get to Revelstoke felt like it went on forever. There were a lot of slow-moving vehicles pulling trailers. And TCH 1 was a two-lane highway for the most part, so it was difficult to overtake anybody. And then it's mostly mountainous with changing speeds around curves, so I couldn't use cruise control much. Revelstoke is actually a nice small community. I had a chicken wrap and soup at a grill, and the soup made my tummy feel a little better -- for a short while anyway. After getting gas, I stopped at what seemed like a park-and-ride at the edge of town, but it was too hot to nap with no shade in sight. And no breeze to cool down the car either.

Halfway between Revelstoke and Kamloops was a nice big body of water on the right side of the road. And there was a nice big storm cloud overhead. I wished for the rain to fall to cool down the air. (I didn't have that much bug splats on my windshield.) And, again, I got my wish and it poured -- I mean, literally poured, that even the fastest setting on my wipers couldn't clear the windshield fast enough to let me see the road. And again, cars had to pull to the side of the road. Deja vu. At least it wasn't hail.

But it was cooler after that cloud. I was still tired and feverish and in pain. And Kamloops came and went. I had the GPS turned off (I was trying to save the battery for when I got into the city) and I didn't refer back to the AAA TripTiks. So, I kept following TCH 1 when I was supposed to take Hwy 5. I was following a small car with bikes in the back and they followed TCH 1 as well, but they realized their mistake sooner and turned around, while I kept going for 17 miles until I got to Savona. Well, the views were at least nice. So, I retraced my steps and got to Hwy 5.

There was a rest area just before the toll booths and I exited. The sun was lower in the sky so there was enough shade. I lifted my legs up to the dashboard (I couldn't lean my seat back because there were bags right behind me) and napped. All I remember is half-waking up when I snorted. Twice. It felt like it was just five minutes, but when I woke up and checked the time, it had been half an hour. I got up and used the bathroom. There was a roach coach type van serving hotdogs, smokies (a kind of sausage), and samosas. I asked the vendor if he had hot tea and he did. He even asked me if I wanted milk on my tea (how British!) and I said no. I also asked for a hotdog thinking that maybe I was hungry. (It was already 7pm Mountain Time after all.) I was very uncomfortable and still so much in pain that I must have sounded rude and cranky although I tried hard to be nice and polite. Well, I'm sure the nap and the hotdog contributed, but the tea made me feel so much better. I was awake again. When I headed out, I drove by the coach. When I slowed down, the vendor had a pained look on his face. I think I must have made him feel bad. But when I waved and smiled, he waved back and his face broke into a big smile. I wish I had told him what a savior he had been for being there at that rest stop.

Hwy 5 is very deceiving. AAA Triptiks said that Hwy 5 had steep grade, but it didn't look bad. I was able to make use of my cruise control. There were two lanes (sometimes three) in each direction. In fact, most of the time, I didn't think I was going uphill until the car starts revving up to maintain my speed. About 50 km to Vancouver, the traffic started backing up. There were two minor accidents -- one little red car that was being hooked up to a tow truck, and a motorcycle that lost its cargo, which was scattered on the road.

It was after 9pm when I finally got to the hotel. I was beyond exhaustion, but room service closed at 9pm, so I had to go downstairs to the restaurant to eat. I had flash-fried calamari (which melted in your mouth but I like the chewiness of calamari) and salmon (which was mediocre). Or maybe, as I've told the server, I'm more tired than hungry.

By this time, the tummy ache was so severe that it takes all of my energy just to stand up straight. Getting ready for bed was sheer torture. And I still kept waking up almost every hour because of the pain. I woke up this morning at around 7:30am. I could hear better now, and the tummy is less severe, although I could still feel it. I thought it might be a bad case of PMS, but the pain is above the belly button. I think it's probably the phlegm that drips down from my throat. And to think I had just recovered from a cold a month ago!

Anyway, it's overcast today in Vancouver. I think I'll swing by the pharmacy downstairs and see if I can find something for this tummy ache.

Banff, AB

I'm half-deaf, and I don't know if it's the cold or the altitude or both. But I had a great day -- a morning tour around Banff, a free lunch at Old Spaghetti Factory, and an afternoon tour to two lakes.

I had to get up at 6:30am to finish packing, check out, and drive an hour to Banff. I made it to the pickup point and I thought I was 15 minutes early, so I went looking for a washroom (that's what they call bathrooms) and found one at the Information building a block and a half down. When I walked back, I saw a blue "Discover Banff Tours" van pulling away from the curb and thought I missed it, but there were still people standing there. Then, to my relief, another blue van pulled up and I hopped on with the rest of the people. Then we went to the Banff Springs Hotel where we picked up more people and the driver counted passengers and asked if any of us were going to the "Discover Banff" tour. I raised my hand; I was the only one. Apparently, that bus was going to Glacier Trail. I asked if I was on the wrong bus and the bus driver said, "No, you're on the right bus. I pick up some of Terry's passengers and he picks up some of mine." Well, it turned out that Terry just pulled up right next to us and so the bus driver told me to follow him and he handed me over to Terry who knew my name.

And I became his pet passenger that day. It turned out that I was the only one signed up for both the morning and the afternoon, and he was the driver for both tours I'm signed up for. Or, more accurately, I became his point of reference; i.e.: he said that the place where they picked me up was Banff Springs Hotel. In the afternoon, when he repeated something he said in the morning, he mentioned me again. It's kinda nice when the tour bus driver remembers you, because you know you'll never get left behind. And he's very nice.

In the morning tour, there was me, Bill from Connecticut, three ladies from Switzerland, and a Canadian couple. We briefly stopped by Bow Falls, where people usually do some rafting. Then we went to the Cave and Basin, where you're not allowed to touch the water because it is the only home of an endangered species of escargot. Then we went to an area that used to be a mine (I think it's called the Bow Valley), but it just looks like a regular valley now. Then we stopped at Hoodoos Viewpoint where a group of about 30 or so vacationers are gathered around a real live Mountie with his red tunic, red boots, britches, and all! Terry snapped my picture as I snuggled up with the Mountie. Of course, I asked for permission first; he is, after all, a police officer. And an active one! Terry said that they are paid to show up at tourist spots on their days off to interact with the tourists. Finally, we went to Lake Minnewanka where we saw a group of divers getting ready to dive into the town that sits at the bottom of the lake (about 40 feet from the surface). It used to be a regular valley until it got flooded -- twice!

Bill from Connecticut started chatting with me after the Mountie. When I asked Terry if my car would be okay behind the Mount Royal Hotel lot (which said 3-hour parking), Bill gave me directions to where he parked, where they had free 12-hour parking. Terry gave me directions to the Old Spaghetti Factory (where I would get my free lunch because I purchased both tours).



The restaurant was only a couple of blocks from the garage, and I got a nice seat by the window. And it's an open-air window! The window panes folded up accordion-style to one side and they had flower boxes by the windows sill. The food was so-so, however. But then, I've never really been a fan of Old Spaghetti Factory. I only paid for the clam chowder which deviated from their standard free fare. And the tip, of course.

It was only 12:30pm when I got done, so I looked around at the shops a little bit until 1:15pm. There were already three passengers in the van when Terry pulled up. I said, "Hi again!" and I saw one of the women smile. There were eight of us and we picked up a couple near Lake Louise. The three who were picked up first were from Scotland -- a daughter (who's probably about my age) and her parents. The daughter said that she now lives in Vancouver and we started chatting about that. (Everybody in both tours learned that I'm in transit from Minneapolis to Seattle because Terry asks everybody where they're from.) There was a father and son from Australia. The couple we picked up near Lake Louise are from Central California. I don't remember where the other couple was from.

The afternoon tour really only went to two major places -- Lake Louise and Moraine Lake. And both are incredible. Even before we got to Lake Louise, we could already see rivers that run by the freeway that are a strange aquamarine color, that's almost like a fake color. Think 1960s or 1970s aqua; that's how funky the color was. You have to see it to believe that it naturally occurs in nature. Terry said that it's caused by "glacier rock flour". I guess it's very fine rock particles that the glacier scrapes from the rocks and when the glacier melts into the lake, the particles remain suspended in the water.

There were too many tourists at Lake Louise, so we only stayed for a half hour. Then we headed up to Moraine Lake, which most tourists don't bother to go to. And that's too bad, because Moraine Lake is a deeper shade, but just as surreal. It's teal! There's trail that went up a pile of rocks called "Rockpile Trail" (what'd you expect it'd be called???) and the color of the lake from up there is absolutely shocking. The color is so vivid that the water looks almost like plastic. Again, you have to see it to believe that a color like that occurs in nature. My pictures don't do it justice, and, all afternoon, I was wishing I had a polarizing lens filter. We were there for almost an hour and I spent most of it at the top of the rock pile, although the trail was only a ten-minute walk (according to Terry, anyway), but it was steep.

Both to and from the lakes, Terry pointed out some mountains and their names were pretty straightforward -- the Ten-Peak Mountains whose names were the numbers 1 to 10 in the Cree(?) language. A mountain with four peaks is called Quadra. A mountain that looks like a temple is called Temple Mountain. A mountain that looks like a castle is called Castle Mountain, and the column next to it is Castle Tower. A mountain with a unique peak was used by some cartographer as a point of reference and is called Pilot Mountain.

There's a story about Castle Mountain. When Eisenhower was the president of the US, he went on a tour of Western Canada. The Canadians wanted to honor him by renaming Castle Mountain to Eisenhower Mountain. They even had a ceremony all planned for the renaming. Well, you know that expression that sometimes you just have to show up and you get credit? Well, it also applies in reverse. Apparently, Eisenhower dissed the ceremony and went golfing instead. So, after being snubbed, the Canadians went back to calling the mountain by its old name.



We also saw some wildlife, a few elk (four total) and a couple of osprey nests (one on a bridge and another on a telephone pole). And they even have overpasses and underpasses for wildlife, and I thought that was funny. Did the park officials put up signs to tell the wildlife where to go? Did they distribute brochures that taught them how to cross the highway? Why did the elk cross the road? Because the park ranger built an overpass for them. :-) Well, okay, there are fences along the highway so they're forced to cross at the designated trails. Apparently, they also track whether the overpasses and underpasses are being used by the animals. Some have sand, which is raked every morning and some expert reads the tracks. Others have cameras that are sensor-triggered.



Anyway, the tour ended with the dispatcher informing Terry that there was an accident on TCH 1 and they closed the highway. But he didn't know if it was on the westbound traffic or the eastbound traffic. He suggested taking Hwy 1A, which we took on our way back from Lake Louise. But I decided to have dinner at Banff before getting back on the road. I found an Asian restaurant that served Vietnamese and Japanese fare, and as soon as I put in my order, the lights went out. It was out all over town. But they were able to cook for me.

I took TCH 1 anyway. I figured the accident would have been cleared already. It turned out that it was on the westbound lanes just before the Lake Louise exit, but the police had already coned off a lane borrowed from the eastbound traffic. There were steep climbs and dips and tight twisting curves. I passed a point of interest called "Spiral Tunnel", but it was already 7:30pm and I didn't want to drive down the mountains in the dark.

French quiz for the day: Match the French words/phrases in List A with their English translations in List B.

List A
1. lac
2. mont
3. escargot
4. sortie du secours
5. parc
6. eau
7. bienvenue

List B
a. park
b. water
c. snails
d. emergency exit
e. welcome
f. lake
g. mountain

Who said learning French was hard?

More pics here.

From SK to AB

This has been a day of extremes. It started out overcast and cool, then sunny and hot, then hail and lightning, then nice and breezy with scattered clouds.

I woke up at 7am and got up at 8am, but didn't actually get going until 10:30am, because I had to finish packing, rearrange the car a bit, start a new yogurt batch, get gas, and wash the car. Well, I figured since it was very hot in the car, it would be like making yogurt in the oven. I bought a quart of milk last night and poured it into two Nalgene bottles. Then I added a bit of my yogurt starter, which was kinda messy because I wasn't using a spoon. It still tasted sweet even though it's been moved around from freezer to hot car for a week now. Well, we'll see how this batch turns out. It was nice and breezy and cool and overcast, so I was a bit worried it might not be hot enough for it, but it got hot and sunny after a couple of hours on the road.

Anyway, I was just thinking last night that this trip has been too social for me. I usually get some peace and quiet on these long trips, but this trip had felt like same-old-same-old. No sense of adventure. No getting in touch with my higher soul. No vision quest. No communion with God. No samadhi. Well, as they say, be careful what you ask for.

There were still some cars on the road, but it was so nice and quiet out there today. Saskatchewan is an endless prairie. All green fields, hardly any trees. At one point, the smell of the grass reminded me of Newfoundland. There was a little rain somewhere around noon, but it was nice rain. Not drizzly but not pouring either. Strong enough to clean the new bug splats on my windshield. The fresh scent of that prairie rain also had a pleasant memory associated with it; it was the rain of my childhood.

I had chicken potpie (also from last night's grocery run) for breakfast so I skipped lunch. I had dried fruit and nuts and chocolate macaroons that I snacked on instead. It was a little after 2pm when I got gas at Walsh, which is the first little town after crossing into Alberta. Looking at the map, Mountain Time starts at the Saskatchewan/Alberta border. I thought it started at the Manitoba/Saskatchewan border because I noticed that my cellphone clock moved back an hour in Regina. I read somewhere that one of the provinces doesn't do daylight savings time, so it must have been Saskatchewan. I parked my car off to the side of the gas station to take a nap, but I couldn't sleep. The air was too hot and the wind wasn't blowing strong enough to cool down the inside of the car even with all the windows down. So, I got back on the road.

I got to Strathmore (the town before Calgary) at around 5:30pm and decided to go for an early dinner at KFC. It was still hot and sunny. But, as I approached Calgary, I saw storm clouds over it and I could see the curtain of rain falling into the city. The cars on TCH 1 were slowing down while I was overtaking them. I wanted to get rained on; there were more bug splats on my windshield since I cleaned it in Walsh. Well, pour it did! But it wasn't just rain. It was hail! At first they were large ones but were soft enough like crushed ice. Still, they banged on the car. Then it got stronger with pea-sized hail that were hard. I could hardly see at that point. I was just following the tail lights ahead of me. And when people started pulling over to the side of the road, I did too. I turned off my engine and put my blinkers on. There were still a few brave souls who kept passing us. I waited for what felt like 10 minutes or so. When the hail lightened up a bit, people started getting back on the road. I waited a while for my windshield to defrost. But there was a chunk of ice where the driver-side wiper rests. It took a long while for that to melt away. The road was hot though, so the ice melted quickly. There was so much water, so I stayed in the middle lane to avoid the puddles on the sides.

For some reason, TCH 1 cuts across Calgary. And I don't mean an overpass either. You actually go through city streets, which meant traffic lights at almost every intersection. Well, it wasn't like we were going fast anyway, what with all the water and the traffic. And because of the storm clouds, it was a strange gray light. It was too dark to see the lanes, but it was still too bright for headlights to be of any use. So, I just followed the car ahead of me. But when a stop light held me back, I realized that the road had grooves that car tires sculpted out and they were now little rivers that gave me a hint where the lanes were. Of course, I had to drive a little off to the side so my tires weren't actually in those grooves. Well, I sure am glad I have a 4-wheel drive.

I was a bit worried that I would have to search for the hotel in the dim light and in the rain/hail. I was too scared to be out in the boonies alone in that weather. The hotel wasn't on the map. The town was not even on the map. Not on MapQuest.com. Not on the MapSend software that the GPS unit reads off of. And the hotel's webpage on Expedia simply said to take TCH 1, go south on Hwy 40, and follow the signs to the hotel.

But when we got out of the city proper, the traffic started flowing, the sky lightened up (the storm clouds stayed above the city), and the road was dry. Call me superstitious, but this is the first time I've gotten strong signs to stay away from a city. First, there were the very expensive hotels at $250/night. And now, the hail from the time I enter the city to the time I leave. Before Calgary proper and after Calgary proper, it was a sunny day. Actually, it was even better after Calgary because the air had cooled down significantly. The terrain is also different -- more hills, pine trees, periwinkle mountains in the distance (which I mistook for clouds).



When I took Hwy 40 south, it got even more beautiful and secluded. I headed towards the rocky mountains with pine trees and grass on both sides of the road. Once in a while, I'd see a lake, a creek, or a river off to the side. It is absolutely stunning! I found the signs to Kananaskis Village, then to the Executive Resort (Expedia calls it "Executive Suites of Kananaskis"). It looked like a timeshare resort. This is no ordinary hotel!

While I was checking in, I asked the desk clerks where the closest gas station was (I only had a quarter tank left and the last gas station I saw was in Calgary proper). They directed me further south on Hwy 40 to a place called Fortress Junction, which was "twenty minutes away." When I asked how many miles that would be, the young man said, "Depends how fast you're going." :-) But he assured me I would get there on my quarter tank of gas. He added that even if I ran out of gas, it was mostly downhill, so I can just coast until I got there. :-)

I thought Fortress Junction would be a small town. It turned out to be even smaller. It was just the gas station with the store, and the owners' house in the back. It was 14 miles from the resort and it was 14 miles of paradise. The road wound between the mountains, and the setting sun cast light on the trees. It was incredibly beautiful. It was so peaceful and quiet, but a couple of cars caught up to my daydreaming so I had to speed up to the maximum 90 km/hr.

But that's not all. when I got back, I took my bags and went up to my room. And again, that's an understatement. It's a suite! Vaulted ceilings, bathroom to the left side as you enter the room. The sink and a spacious countertop outside. A big cherry wood armoire containing the TV, the small fridge, and three deep drawers. One side table with one deep drawer. A two-seater couch and a soft chair. A desk (also cherry) and a chair. A gas fireplace! And then, there's the stairs to side that leads up to... a loft! Very, very cool!

I only have two minor complaints -- no air-conditioning (there's a ceiling fan in the loft and two floor fans in the closet), but the tap water is freezing cold. I hope there's hot water for the shower.

I wanna live here....

More pics here.

Regina, SK

Years ago, we were going to an Amerasian restaurant for lunch. In the same strip mall was an Army/Navy recruiting office and we had to pass it to get from the car to the restaurant. There were two uniformed officers taking a break outside the office. Well, Harmony conveniently (and she claims "unintentionally") dropped her ID badge on the street right in front of that office. (In olden days, the ladies dropped their hankies, but who carries hankies anymore?) And one of the officers called out "Miss!", picked up her badge, and read it before handing it to her. Flustered, Harmony simply thanked him and ran back to catch up with the rest of us. Of course, we teased her about it the entire lunch. And we taught her to sigh and say, "I love a man in uniform," just in case it happens again.



Well, guess what I saw today -- men in uniform! Lots of them! Well, there were women too. My first sightseeing stop was the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Academy. I stopped one uniformed man who was crossing a parking lot to ask for directions to the museum. I must have looked like a silly tourist because he smiled. Either that or he must have seen Hottie sitting next to me.

When I found the right entrance, the officer at the gate chatted with me a while, and then told me where to go, when the parade would be, and when the tour would be. Then he said to pass by on my way out and tell him what I think.

I found the museum. And right in front of it was a large quadrangle marked by yellow and blue lines. There were people already sitting on the sidewalk to watch the parade. There was also a group of about 20 cadets standing around. I approached them to ask where the best spot was for pictures and one of them directed me to the front of a brick building. I walked over there and took a few pictures of the building and a small memorial for Mounties who died. I saw a man setting up his video camera on a tripod in the shade of the building next to the memorial and I commented that I was also told it was the best place for pictures. He said that only authorized personnel were allowed in that section and I had to go back to the sidewalk in front of the museum.



At 12:45pm, the band walked past us, followed by the different troops. There were six troops with about 20 people each. They were wearing different uniforms. Some had the knee-high brown boots and britches, some had plain gray shirts and pants with stripes running down the sides. I later found out that the cadets "earned" the right to wear each piece of the uniform. No one was wearing the red tunic that was the uniform that the Mounties are known for. When they got into the quadrangle, higher ranking officers came out from that alley between the brick building and the memorial. Then the officers inspected the cadets, they did a few maneuvers, then it was time for them to go back. There were a few strange things about the way they moved. When they get to a spot or stand at attention or spread their feet at ease or make a turn, they would raise their knee then stomp their foot down. Sometimes, they would do the other side too after about a second. I forgot to ask why, but I'm guessing they were imitating how horses lift their front legs when prancing. There was also some command where they would shuffle their feet sideways inch by inch to adjust their position and that looked so funny, but they do get into alignment better, especially since they're not sorted by height.



After the parade, I quickly walked through the museum while waiting for the tour to start. At 1:28pm, I got to the front of the museum and realized that I missed the tour. One of the museum officers said that they just left and he offered to take me to the chapel to catch up with the group. But first, he had to go get his hat, because one of the rules was that he must always wear his hat outdoors. The chapel doors were locked and nobody answered his knock. I said I'd just wait until they got out, but he said that I'd miss the best part of the tour, so he went back to get the key. And he was right. The chapel was adorable with all the stained glass windows, particularly the two glass windows of Mounties behind the altar. After that, we went down a block to watch a troop learn new maneuvers in a gym. Then we went to the memorial I saw earlier, and back to the museum.

Apparently, the quadrangle was bordered by a blue line and a yellow line all around. And it is a rule that no cadet would step into that quadrangle except when doing maneuvers during parade. During war, the bodies of fallen soldiers were arranged in a square and no one went inside that square out of respect for the dead. And the quadrangle symbolized that square.

After the tour, I went into the gift shop, then headed to my next stop -- Government House. It was 3pm when I got there and there was one more tour for the day. I browsed in the gift shop (which had more expensive items than the RCMP museum gift shop) and then took pictures of a carriage on display in the hall. The tour guide arrived shortly wearing a long red skirt and a cream-colored pinstriped blouse, a costume from the time when the house was built. She said it was something that a maid would wear during that time.



Well, I had her to myself, so I got to ask as many questions as I wanted. I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside but there were some very interesting furniture. Not all of them were original though. In fact, the furniture was auctioned off very cheaply in the 1940s before the place was turned into an infirmary. Then it became a school, then it was abandoned. In the 1970s (or early 80s), they started turning it into a museum and they actually put out an ad to buy back the furniture that was auctioned off several decades prior. But they were very lucky because the only man who knew the combination to the safe was ill at the time of the auction and he died and took that combination with him, so the safe was never opened again until they renovated the place to turn it into a museum. And they found flatware and china in the safe, so the dining room set was original as well.

I saw the guest bedrooms, the master bedroom, the nanny's bedroom, the children's bedroom, and the playroom. The other side of the building, where the servant's quarters used to be, is currently being used as offices by the lieutenant governor, who, by the way, is a woman.

My final stop (well, it was 4pm when I left the Government House) was the Legislative Building. Again, I was the only one in the tour and my tour guide is a very young-looking man named Adam, who turns to be a political science student entering his third year and who plans to go to law school (which take four years here) and who wants to teach afterwards. This is his summer job.

We went up marble steps (the only marble coming from the area) to the central part of the building, where Adam pointed out its features -- the green striated marble pillars that came from Ireland, the pink marble on the floor from Vermont, the cream marble on the walls from Italy, the mural of southern Saskatchewan in the south wall (painted in the 1930s or 1940s and had to be cleaned with spit -- yup, saliva, the safest cleaning medium for the mural), the mural of northern Saskatchewan in the north part of the wall (painted in honor of the queen's visit in the latter part of the 20th century), the flowers in the roof, the fake sunlight, the opening to the lower floor patterned after Napoleon's grave.



Then we went into the room where the Parliament met. We just looked in from the entryway though; it was cordoned off. The Parliament was out on summer break. And Adam pointed out the features of this room too -- the speaker's seat, the balconies/galleries for the public, the press balcony/gallery, the painting of the queen, the origin of the phrase "to kill the messenger", the desk of the sargeant-at-arms, the gold plated mace that points to the premier's seat, which is the sixth seat from the speaker on the left side, the rounded corners of the room that imitated the crown on the table in the queen's portrait, the cameras hidden in the walls for public broadcasting of the sessions, the microphones at each table, the tapestry behind the speaker's seat sewn by nuns and donated to the city, the crest of the city (three sheaths of wheat) on the tapestry, the two statues on either side of the speaker's seat, the sculptural details along the walls.

Then we went to the library where we saw the woodworking tools of the sculptor who did all the sculptural details in the Parliament Room. The sculptor was only 21 years old when he started the work and it took him two years to finish. The library also had three of the chairs made especially for the speakers of the house. They used to have one chair made for each speaker, but that got too expensive.

Downstairs, we saw oil paintings of premiers and of speakers. A small display showed icons of the state on top of a tartan cloth -- Saskatchewan's tartan pattern.

Since I was the only one there, he offered to take me to the level where the murals were. He usually doesn't take people up there because the groups tend to be large and there were offices right by the central area.

Before I left, he gave me two souvenir pins -- one was shaped like a sheath of wheat, the other was the flag of Saskatchewan. That was so nice of him. I don't think they do that for all their guests.

French lesson of the day: Terrain du camp means "campgrounds".

More pics here.

From MB to SK

Well, my angel is definitely watching over me. I left the hotel at 10am and had arguments with my GPS which was giving me all the weirdest directions toward TCH 1. I decided to follow AAA's map instead.

Then it happened. I had just gotten out of the city on TCH 1 when the "Check Engine" light came on. I pulled off into a frontage road and looked under the hood. Mind you, since I bought this car seven years ago, the only other time I looked under the hood was when Harmony and I struggled to replace a headlamp. (Yes, at least I know there's no such thing as a headlight fluid.)

Well, nothing was smoking, the water was full, the coolant was more than halfway up, there was oil and it was clear. I mean, I just had an oil change less than 1,000 miles ago!

Anyway, I crossed the freeway (more about the Canadian highway system below) and headed back towards Winnipeg. The nearest municipality was Headingly and there was a Co-op gas station a mile or so from where I stopped.

I called AAA but I walked around as she put me on hold to look up the nearest auto shop. Then I got disconnected. But I saw a truck stop with a repair station. The man there said that they don't have the equipment for my car, but he directed me to Pointe West Auto Park, about 4 miles into the city.

Well, there were a lot of dealerships there, but no Subaru. I stopped at a Saab/Saturn dealership and they were very friendly, except the guy behind the service counter. I think I got almost the whole dealership figuring out where the nearest Subaru dealership was. One gray-haired salesman knew of one Subaru dealership but it was 15 miles into the city, but no one else knows any other, so he gave me directions and showed me a map.

And very good directions they were. I easily found the Frontier Subaru dealership on Pembina Hwy and Bison St. And it must have been my lucky day because they were able to take care of my car right away. They did diagnostics on it and found out that my catalytic converter is starting to get clogged. But they didn't replace it yet. They said that it's in its "infant stage" and I could still drive it across country, but I should get it replaced when I get home. It will just reduce my mileage/gallon (or liter, as the case may be). Meanwhile, they disabled that code so that the "Check Engine" light would go off. And, not only did they wash my car without me having to ask, they also gave me an ice-cold bottle of water to take with me. How's that for customer service?

So it was about 12:30pm by the time I left the dealership and about 1pm by the time I got back to TCH 1. I wasn't too worried. The days are still long and I had only about 600 km to drive.

Now about the Canadian freeway system. Well, TCH 1 does not have overpasses or underpasses or real exits. There are just intersections. There were a number of vehicles dangerously crossing in front of TCH 1 traffic which was going 100 to 120 km/hr. And there were a few towns and stoplights (yes, stoplights!) that you had to slow down for. One of those towns was Brandon, where I stopped for lunch and gas at around 3:30pm. Then I just drove for four hours straight after that.

When I get sleepy, I sing to myself. It kinda works because singing forces me to breathe deeper, so I get more oxygen in my brain. And if I sing Christmas songs, somehow I don't feel the heat as much. :-) Well, I'm keeping the AC off to save gas, what with the high gas prices (CA$1/liter) and the choking catalytic converter. So, I'm doing all these mind tricks I've learned in past trips.

Am getting intense dreams with some strong emotions, but I don't remember them much in the morning.

French word of the day: Ouest means "west." Go figure.

Winnipeg, MB

I decided to take the combination bus-and-cruise tour. And I found out that the rest of the city is much better than the area my hotel is in.

Winnipeg is an old city with different communities. The city was named after the lake, which was named Winnipeg because of its muddy waters. Winni in the Cree language means "water," and peg means "mud." The mud is caused by the fine silt that's eroded from the banks of the rivers that feed into the lake. Two of the rivers are the Red River and the Assiniboine River.

The Red River is the only river (in the country? in the continent? in the world?) that flows northward. It originates from the same area as the Mississippi River, except one flows north and the other flows south.

The Red River and the Assiniboine River meet up in the middle of Winnipeg in an area called "The Forks." One of the railroad companies used to have warehouses in that area, but after they moved to another part of the city, the warehouses were converted to a shopping area, a children's museum, and a hotel.

Our bus crossed a bridge that had a Salisbury House restaurant right in the middle of it. East of the Red River was the St. Boniface community, which is called the "French Quarter." There are more French-speaking people in Manitoba than in Quebec, but they're scattered all over. Here, the signs still have both English and French versions, but the French version comes first. There's even a school where they not only teach French, but "restricted French," which means if you want to speak English, you'd have to go outside in the sidewalk.

We stopped at the St. Boniface Cathedral, on whose grounds was the grave of Louis Riel, who is considered the "Father of Manitoba." He was a governor of the province when he was very young, but he rebelled against some laws and was charged with treason. On the advice of some official, he ran off to the US. He taught school in Montana. But, several years later, rebels in Manitoba convinced him to come back and lead an insurgence, where he died. However, while he was governor, he came up with "ten rules" that citizens were supposed to follow, and those ten rules were used verbatim as the seed of the province's constitution, so that's how he earned his title as "Father of Manitoba." But some people still did not like him, including the artist who rendered his sculpture that now stands in St. Boniface. That's why the body of the sculpture was "hideous." (The bus driver's words, not mine.)

Well, Manitoba also has its wealthy section. We drove through an area called Wellington Crescent with its large mansions and elm-lined avenues. I don't know how much those houses go for, but the owner of one of the homes pays $10K/year (or is it per month?).

We also drove around the Parliament and stopped briefly for pictures. A sculpture of Queen Victoria sits in the front. She used to face the building and "ruled" over parliament that way, but they decided to turn her around, because, well, the "golden boy" at the top of the dome, running with a flame on one hand and a sheath of wheat on the other arm, didn't have any clothes on, and it just didn't seem proper for a queen to be looking at that. (I swear that's what the bus driver said.)



We went to two gardens. One was the Leo Mol Sculpture Garden, where a sculpture of a boy and a boot stands at the entrance. Apparently, that boy used to stand in another part of the city, and some people wanted him here at this garden. Other people objected; they wanted a Queen Victoria bust at the front of the garden. Then one day, the boy disappeared. It was several years later when they found him half-buried near the garden. So they eventually put him at the entrance and Queen Victoria ended up in the back of the garden.

The second garden was the Assiniboine Park, but we were running late, so we only went to the Conservatory for a washroom break, then we drove around a bit. I read online that there was a sculpture of Winnie-the-Pooh in that park, and the driver said that it was in the zoo section. But we didn't have time for the zoo.

We also drove through the section of the city were there were 20 blocks of officially recognized historic buildings. Among those buildings was the Hotel Fort Garry, which is the oldest operational hotel in the city.

Our bus driver dropped us off right in front of the paddlewheel. Unfortunately, the cruise was boring. The sights that the guide pointed out were mostly hidden behind the trees along the river. The water, as I've mentioned, is muddy. And the speed limit is only 9 km/hour so there was no wake or waves to watch. It was a whole lot breezier and cooler than yesterday though. The only good things we got to see is the Salisbury House close up and the water line on the tree trunks. The water level gets so high sometimes that the houses by the banks of the river get flooded.



We got back to the dock at 3pm, so I decided to go back to Assiniboine Park Zoo to take a look at the Winnie-the-Pooh statue and the other animals. The only animal that the bus driver mentioned was the white black bear. Yup, a black bear that's white. Apparently, black bears go through a white phase. The bus driver said he hadn't been to the zoo for a while so he doesn't know if the bear is still white. Well, he is, with a tan stripe down his back. His roommate is a black black bear, and I'm sure the roommate has a severe case of color envy. I mean, imagine if everybody only came around to gush about your roomie and ignored you altogether. How would YOU feel?



The funniest animals were the pink flamingos inside the tropical display in an aviary of sorts. They were fighting each other for rights to the water, when there was enough room for everyone. Who knew flamingos were very territorial? There was another flamingo display outdoors (these were more orange, or maybe it's just the sunlight), and they were very territorial too.

I had to ask a concession vendor where Winnie-the-Pooh is. It turns out that he was right by the entrance, just off to the side. Well, the story is that there was a real bear that was adopted by a lieutenant and he named the bear (a girl bear) Winnie, after Winnipeg, his hometown. When he was deployed in France, he left Winnie to the London Zoo, where she was adored by zoo visitors, including A. A. Milne and his son Christopher. And Winnie-the-Pooh, the fictional character, was based on Winnie, the lieutenant's bear.

It looks like there's a large Filipino community in the area. I saw a "Pinoy Body Works" and a "Tawagin Restaurant" as I was driving around. I saw a couple that looked Filipino on the cruise, and I overheard a family of four speak in Tagalog at the zoo.

French lesson of the day: Arret ici means "stop here."

More pics here.

From ND to MB

It was a fairly quiet drive on I-29. I guess everybody must have been at the lakes already, being the second day of the long holiday weekend. Or maybe this freeway was just not one of the popular routes.

About halfway to the border, I was surprised to find a decent-sized town with a big mall right by the freeway. I couldn't figure out what the name of the town was; I couldn't read the name on the water tower. Now that I looked it up on the map, it's called Grand Forks. Then towards the north end of the town was a large building called Alerius Center and, guess what. They have Cirque du Soleil's "Delirium" coming there on August 23! This town is not so out of the way after all; there's still civilization this far north! ;-)

Further north, just south of the town of Drayton, I stopped at a rest stop which exited on the left and I thought that was strange. But then it turned out that the rest stop was right in the middle of the freeway! Right between the lanes going in opposite directions! I thought that was cool. It was fairly new too. They even had an internet kiosk inside.

After Drayton, there were very few cars, but I didn't have the road all to myself for too long.

I got to the border a little after 2pm. They had two lanes open for cars and one lane for trucks. I was the fourth car so it went fairly fast. The border patrol asked a lot of questions -- was I the only one in the car, where was I heading, how long was I staying in Canada, was it my first visit to Canada, when was the last time I was in Canada, did I make any duty-free purchases, did I have any commercial goods in the car, did I bring any gifts, was I meeting anybody in Canada, did I have animal products with me, was I carrying flammables, was I carrying weapons, was I carrying any products like mace, was I carrying ANY means of self-protection (I think he was incredulous that a woman would be travelling a long distance alone with no means of self-protection), did I have hotel reservations. well, at least he didn't make me pull over to the side to have the dogs sniff my car.

Last week, one of my classmates Tony told me a story about the border patrol asking a lot of questions, then bringing in dogs to sniff the car, then unloading the car, then inspecting every item inside the car, then dismantling the car including the door panels, then saying, "Okay, you can go" without putting the car back together for you because they're not required by law to do so. He doesn't know anybody personally to whom that happened, so it might be an urban legend. But I'm sure glad Tony wouldn't be telling people horror stories about me and the border patrol.

South of the border, the speed limit was 75 mi/hr. North of the border, the speed limit was 100 km/hr which is about 63 mi/hr and it just felt too slow. Thank goodness for cruise control.

Unfortunately, PR 75 is just like Hwy 1. It runs through the middle of towns and you have to slow down to 50 km/hr then speed up again. I got gas at one of those little towns Morris, just south of Winnipeg.

But before I got to Winnipeg, there was this cute little country chapel on the highway divider. It even had a cute little cemetery with probably a dozen tombstones on it.

Well, I finally got to Winnipeg proper, and my GPS has proven its worth. I probably would have had to search for my hotel for at least a couple of hours without the GPS. I made so many turns and the roads twisted and turned, that I lost my sense of where north is.

First impressions of Winnipeg: Driving in, it reminds me of the outskirts of Las Vegas. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the strip malls. I think my hotel is in the middle of an industrial section. It looks like the seedy part of town.

Inside the hotel, the hallway lights are dim and the walls are tiled. One wall is exposed painted brick and hollow-blocks. There's a casino, a bar, and a little cafeteria downstairs by the lobby. It feels more like Manila than North America.

I guess I'll see the rest of Winnipeg tomorrow. Then I'll have a better feel for the city.

PS: I'm learning French, compliments of the Canadian transportation agency. Each English sign is followed by a French one. And sometimes, both translations are in the same sign. Word of the day: "sortie", which means "exit".

Pelican Rapids, MN

I went to visit Jon's family today. I drove to his dad's home in Erhard, just south of Pelican Rapids. I didn't remember how to get there; it used to be that Jon always drove because he grew up there and he knew the area well, but I remembered landmarks. So I knew that his dad lived in his grandfather's home in the same street as the liquor store. Good thing the liquor store was still there.

I remember that house with snow. I remember how quiet and surreal it was. Erhard had always had that quiet isolated surreal feeling about it. It had always had a magical sense to it. Probably because, everytime I went there, I was always taken care of and I always felt like a kid. And probably because this was where I saw my first snowfall under a street lamp at night and I thought it looked as though someone was having a pillow fight high up in the sky.

As I drove through the secondary highways today, I realized how beautiful this area really is. The corn plants are about a foot high, the grass is very green, the lakes are sparkling. Maybe I didn't realize it before because we usually came in the winter. Or maybe because Jon was so intent on getting away from here, so he never really showed me the nice areas.

Two of Jon's siblings came by to say hi and to chat, then I went to Hawley to visit with his cousin and his aunt. Of course, I got lost getting there, even with a GPS unit. But I found them eventually.

Jon's aunt Burnice took me on a tour of a "hill" which looked like a county fairgrounds where they have a tractor and steam thresher show every Labor Day weekend. It was a really nice place. Burnice showed me the buildings where they stored the tractors, the buildings where the women served food during the show, a historical home where they displayed crafts, and a round building that housed a merry-go-round. There were lots of campers on the grounds and she said that they belonged to people who worked on getting the machines working and painted and polished for the show. Then we drove around the little lake that was also on the grounds.

Afterwards, we drove by the little one-room schoolhouse where she went to school. She showed me the property by a lake where she grew up, which was two miles from the schoolhouse. We saw other lakes, some with fish, some without fish. Some had names, and some without, like Lake 15 and Lake 11. There was one lake with an island in the middle and she said that a woman writer (or artist) used to live on that island and did her writing there.

After the tour, we went to her daughter Elaine's home. Elaine's hubby Jerry was sitting outside when we got there and Elaine came right out. They live in a beautiful A-frame house that had lots of very interesting antiques inside that it looks like a museum. In the back, they have several animals -- chickens, goats that answer back when she talks to them, an emu named Big Bird, and a tiger (yup, a real live tiger) named Frasier.


Elaine and Frasier. more pics

Frasier is six years old and they got him as a cub. He eats about 15 to 20 pounds of meat a day. But their neighbors actually help them feed him. When a neighbor's cow had to be put down because of a broken leg, they gave the meat to Elaine and Jerry for Frasier. In fact, a lot of their neighbors have given them meat, so Frasier is essentially the neighborhood pet cat, although not your typical neighborhood pet cat. Elaine had to coax him out of his shady house today, and he just walked around the cage once, then sat back down in a shady spot with a big yawn.


The emu named Big Bird with Burnice. more pics

Big Bird, on the other hand, enjoyed attention and followed us as we walked around looking at the other animals. He loved snuggling up to people. I didn't even notice him come up behind me as I was taking pictures of Frasier.


The four-horned billygoat. more pics

The goats were so funny. They stayed under the tree and Elaine talked to them as though she was chatting with a neighbor. She asked if they were staying under the shade because it was too hot for them, and they all baa'd back at her in response. The billygoat ventured out of the shade to come closer. He was kinda scary with all four (yup, four!) horns. He stopped several feet away when he saw a stranger (me), but came close to the fence after a while, followed by two ewes who kept baa'ing.

After visiting the animals, we headed out to Cormorant Village to have dinner at a restaurant there. We each had the barbeque ribs and they were so good, and so big. We all took doggy bags home. Then we went back to Burnice's house where she made these wonderful strawberry shortcakes from scratch. And we kept chatting until I realized it was almost sunset. I didn't really want to drive in unfamiliar terrain in the dark. So, we took a few pictures outside, exchanged email addresses, and off I went, chasing the sun.