Half Dome In Winter (Part 1)

On the first weekend of April 2009, I went camping and hiking in Yosemite National Park. This trip was booked many months ago my my friend Aaron, but was organized in a very hectic last minute push due to him breaking a thumb which pulled his attention away from the trip.

In any case, we got together a small band of five people, me, my friend Aaron from work, my friend Felix from school who travelled with me to Morocco, France, and Spain, and two of Aaron's Portuguese roommates who were on an exchange program in the States. The night before, we had agreed that we'll be renting a car and preparing for a 17 mile hike up Half-Dome. I had also found out, just before going to bed, that the cables were down. The cables are part of a famous route up Half Dome where two cables on either side held up by poles are used as handrails in ascending the 60º incline up a bare rock face where wooden steps for resting are bolted to the rock every few metres. However, with the cables down for the season, what this means is that there are no poles and no steps, just a pair of metal cables hanging off of a steep, slick rock slope. I ended up getting to bed late as I was excited. I decided I'll climb up Half Dome anyway. I'll just pick up a harness, some carabiners, and some rope to tie myself into the cables with a friction knot for safety.

The next day, our plan continued to get derailed and delayed. We heard from Aaron's roommates that they had decided to all pile us in to Aarons old car from the 1980s. After squeezing everything in the car, we left two hours behind schedule. We also took much longer to pick everyone up due to people showing up at the wrong train station, and people forgetting their flashlights among other things. We finally left the Bay Area at 7pm, three hours behind schedule, cramped in the car with our bags on our laps.

The drive was beautiful in the dark, and we can tell it would be even prettier in the daytime. We saw moonlit valleys, waterfalls, and the odd headlight in the distance. At one point, we were convinced we were being followed by a ghost motorcycle when the single strangely shaped headlight behind us disappeared. When we arrived after midnight, we hastily set up our campsites and went to sleep in the freezing night as we have plans to hit the trail at 6:30 the next morning.

We left camp at 7am, just as the sun was rising. Expecting a long hike, we brought copious amounts of food and water. After a short hike up a surprisingly steep and tiring section, we arrived at a junction. According to a map, one of the trails was shorter, but the other had a sign on it that said "Winter Trail." We looked at each other and chose the shorter Mist Trial. This turned out to be a mistake. As we approached the falls, the stairs turned to slippery ice cliffs above the roaring foaming waters below. After grabbing a few photos, we walked back to the fork and continue on the long trail, where we had to climb a ridge only to descend on the other side.

After a few switchbacks covered with some packed snow piles, which my friend referred to as "glaciers" to keep things exciting, we reached a clearing made of smooth rock near the top of the ridge. The Sun was shining bright now, and from the clearing, we can see three large peaks in front of us, one of them being half dome. On the way up, we were treated to a wonderful view of the valley filled with a lush, mature coniferous forest surrounded by tall cliff faces with the iconic two-tiered Yosemite Falls in the distance. These views perked us right up, and seeing our goal for the first time, I thought it didn't look far at all, until someone pointed to the valley below which made me realize we have to go all the way down and come back up again due to the detour. Here, we stopped for a quick breakfast of some sandwiches and granola.

After lunch, we made a discovery. There was a trail that was a bit longer, but didn't require us to make the descend and climb again. On the other hand, a gate was closed across it proclaiming it was closed for the winter. We talked to two individuals about the trails, one of whom later realized she had told us the wrong directions. As both strangers decided to wander into the closed trail for a walk, we decided to give it a try. Following the switchbacks uphill soon led us into snow, some of which was fresh and had only fallen during the night before. We soon caught up with the lady we talked to early and she mentioned that she heard some strange sounds which she was afraid was a bear so was heading back. But seeing that we were now a group of five, she decided to join us as we continued to gain more elevation.

After some time, we bumped into the man we had talked to earlier who told us that the trail was impassable up ahead, although it was only blocked for a distance of about ten feet. Seeing that we've gone so far already, we decided to press on to investigate, while he and the other lady headed back together. Soon, we started travelling on a ledge with a long drop to the left and a steep snow slope to the right. As we can see the bridge that will lead us to better trails only some tens of metres ahead, we pressed on. The trail deteriorated quickly and finally, only about ten metres from clear trails, we realized that there was going to be an unacceptable chance of us slipping off the cliff if we pressed any farther. Shaken, we slowly slinked back, with Nelson, one of the Portuguese friends staying back, standing on the edge of the cliff and leaning back toward the edge to take photos uphill. He claimed that he wasn't afraid of heights, but we thought perhaps he was a bit too confident in his abilities as he had not hiked in this kind of terrain before.

When we reached the clearing we had been at for breakfast, we realized that this diversion had set us back more than an hour and a half. This means that we have wasted well over two hours going down wrong trails and retracing our steps. Combined with the fact that we are taking two longer forks in snowy conditions, this means our hike will be much more intense than what we had been planning. Seeing that it is already considered a gruelling hike taking the short forks in summer when the trails are clear of snow and ice, we started having doubts about reaching the summit. With that, we proclaimed that we are going to travel faster, and faster we went.

During the descent into the valley, I had an interesting moment when I was jogging downhill, merging onto another trail. As I was taking a wide right turn to merge onto the trail, I brushed up against the widely spaced rocks marking the sides of the trail I was turning onto. All of a sudden, I saw right in front of me, where I was running, a drop of one or two hundred metres overlooking, yes, overlooking from far above, a large waterfall. I went "whoa...," turned and stopped quickly, somewhat dumbstruck. As I was still staring at the drop, I saw Felix jogging down behind me and about to pretend to bump into me. As I was about to warn Felix, I saw his eyes open wide, and he also said "woah...," turned, and slowed down. What a view! The people on the top of the waterfall were tiny from this height, and the rather large waterfall continued to gush down into a deep gorge below.

Seeing that we were already low on time and have wasted much energy, we decided to press on and skip investigating the waterfall below, as we were sure we would encounter many more waterfalls farther up the trail. Surly enough, some more hiking brought us to the base of another waterfall, where the mist had covered the rocks below and even the cliffs to the side in a sheet of glistening ice. Here, a series of long and steep switchbacks built of rock steps brought us up the side of the waterfall. At the top, we were finally back to the altitude we were at before we had to turn back. From here, we can see that we were painfully close to the clear trails, with only a thin but very steep pile of ice and snow blocking our way.

A bit farther up, we reached another rocky clearing. Hiking off the main trail for a few minutes led us to the top of the waterfall, to the bridge we saw from the first clearing and unsuccessfully tried to reach. Here, we explored the area. There was an unfenced section by the waterfall that led to a sheer drop below, with a few boulders and a tree by the edge which was arranged in a way that reminded me of a Zen garden. This was frightening even to stand close to. Another section right by the water was fenced off, and as there was a small opening in the fence, I sat for a while with my feet danging off the cliff, clutching the fence for comfort. From here, one can see the water fall off the cliff right beside you, tumbling down the cliff face and partially turning to mist before violently smashing at the rocks below.

After finding a nearly toilet, Aaron and Nelson decided to take it slower, while Felix, Ricardo, and I are going to continue as Felix and I were determined to give it all we have to reach the top. After working out a signalling system with rocks by the outhouses as we didn't have any cell phone reception, we ventured ahead with a much faster speed than before. We were going to press on full speed to the base of Half Dome and rest for lunch before attempting the ascent. We hoped that we would meet up with Aaron and Nelson again there.

Tijuana Without the Tourists

"I hope I didn't just make a huge mistake." That was the thought running through my mind as I crossed a pedestrian bridge linking the border with the rest of Tijuana. Devoid of all tourists, the bridge is trafficked by locals and poor families huddled together on the side. Below us is a large aqueduct filled with rubble and trash. It is eerily empty and calm, nothing like the hoards of young visitors from San Diego as promised by tour books. This is the scene in Tijuana in late January 2009. Even though a travel alert had been recently issued by the American government for this area of Mexico due to drug and gang related violence, I felt that I had to visit to see first hand what life is like here.

Tijuana, boasting a population of over one and a quarter million, is the largest city in the Mexican state of Baja California located on the Mexican-US border. It is well known as a seedy party destination for high school and university students in the San Diego area due to the lower drinking age across the border and the easy access to controlled pharmaceutical substances. However, this has been drastically changed with the unprecedented surge in drug-related violence in Mexico. Due to a perfect storm of a major gang war and the use of the military in a drug trafficking crackdown, gang-related murders have skyrocketed along the Mexican border towns. I was throughly chilled to find that less than two months prior to my visit, Tijuana logged a total of 170 murders in the month of November alone, which equals a rate of nearly one murder every four hours. What really put me on edge was reading that the gangs have resorted to shooting civilians and tourists in an attempt to keep foreign money out of Mexico to starve and scare the civilians to convince their government to withdraw their military.

Because of all this, I was expecting tourism to be light. As we crossed the border and walked into town, it was obvious that I had underestimated the severity of the problem, as Tijuana had been turned into a tourist ghost town. The sight of a foreign tourist was rare indeed in Tijuana, and we only saw about four or so other groups wandering the streets in the few hours we were there. This left their economy in a precarious state as much of the business there is driven by tourism. According to some estimates, tourism to the area may have fallen by as much as 90% since the gang violence started, and up to 70% of the stores, bars and clubs catering to foreign tourists have gone out of business.

That said, Avenida Revolución, the main tourist stretch, is still quite lively as there are many locals hanging out in the area. Music still blare loudly from the bars, and many stores are open for business, creating a sea of shop owners standing outside of their stores prospecting for customers and smiling pharmacists in white robes standing outside their numerous well-lit pharmacies. However, there is a certain tinge of desperation in the air. You can feel this as soon as you cross the border. As we walked through the metal gates in an opening between the double metal wall that separates the US and Mexico, the mood changes drastically. On the Mexican side, there are people and kids clutching at the fence, staring listlessly across to its rich northern neighbour. This feeling of despair was accentuated by the fact that there was no passport check or any sort entering Mexico, just two sets of unmanned one-way metal gates. I felt like I was entering some sort of compound where they don't care who enters, but the exits are strictly guarded.

As we stepped across the final fence into Mexico after a short moment of hesitation, we were swarmed by taxi drivers competing with each other to offer us a low price for a ride into town. When we refused, their frustration was apparent as one of them blurted out "Don't be a Jew! It's only a dollar for each of you!" The mood of the store owners catering to tourists ranged from desperation to resignation. Every store and bar we passed, clerks and waiters tried to drag us in and offered us spontaneous discounts. As we walked around town, restaurant owners shoved their menus in our faces, and as we walked away, they would shout things such as "OK, I give you 50% off if you eat here!" Finally settling on a small family owned taqueria a block away from the main tourist area, the owner confided in us that "Business is bad. No one comes here anymore."

After lunch, we decided that there was not much to do here, so we went to a bar to sit for a beer before leaving. We chose the Iguana Ranas, a large touristy bar on the second floor of an entertainment complex in the centre of the action on Avenida Revolución. We can't help but notice that the only other patrons we encountered there were a Latino couple who left shortly after we arrived. Considering that this was late Saturday afternoon, I was surprised that there was no one else at this very large bar. From the patio, the fence separating the city of Tijuana and the empty expanse on the American side of the border was clearly visible. It looked as if the city had been chopped off with a giant cleaver, the crowded buildings ending abruptly at the fence. As we left, we were relieved that we were going to go back, and disappointed we did not get to see Tijuana at its best.

On the way to the border, we noticed a side street that seemed to have quite a bit of activity. Following this, we discovered an area a few blocks away from the strip, away from where the majority of tourists spend their time. This area was very different. Centred around the beautiful Cathedral De Guadalupe, the buildings are a bit less grand, the stores are a bit smaller and carried wares other than only generic souvenirs. Best of all, there were street vendors. This is the Tijuana that I had wanted to see and was expecting. We saw no tourists here, but the area was bustling with people carrying shopping bags filled with food and other necessities.

We wandered around here for a while trying out the street food. I tried nance for the first time from a street vendor that didn't speak English. Even though this strange fruit tasted like rotting cheese, I bought a cup as I felt obligated when she gave me one of the nace berries after I pointed to it inquisitively. I ended up giving this cup of berries to a family sitting by the side of the street whose children were selling Chicklets. I also bought a cup of horchata from a street vendor with a cart, and handing over a 20 peso bill, I got back two Mexican peso coins and three American dimes as change, which shows how important tourists from the US are to the economy of this area. This is what we did for a while, trying interesting snacks, fruits, and drinks. We bought more than we could eat, so after a taste, I gave what I had left to beggars. This way, I get to try a variety of things, help the street vendors with my purchases, and help hungry beggars by giving them food. That's three birds with one stone.

As we left Tijuana at the end of dusk, I can't help but feel a sense of relief that we have the privilege of running away from the problems this area is facing. It was a very strange feeling to see how much of a difference there was from one side of the wall to the other. Although I used to see Tijuana as an empty city propped up by tourism, by the end of this visit, I saw that Tijuana clearly had a soul of its own, and it is still going strong even without that help of rich foreign tourists. Although Tijuana is known for it's sleaze, it still possesses that warm, personal soul of a comfortable, magical city even during the recent problems, as long as you know where to look.

Tijuana feels abandoned by its rich finicky neighbour to the north, and I hope in the future things will change. I hope that instead of avoiding the problem like how everyone is avoiding Tijuana, these recent problems promote closer cooperation between the US and Mexico to bring tourism back to Tijuana and the people who depend on them. In the meantime however, Tijuana will have to ride out some tough times. I thought the vendor at the last shop we stopped at summed up the situation perfectly. As we were leaving his store, he called to us "Come on! Buy something! Take your time! Just look around, I don't have anything else to do all day."

Ocean Beach

I had some extra time today so I decided to Ocean Beach in San Francisco. I've been living in the Bay Area for a year and a half now, and in the city for about half a year. I've always wanted to see Ocean Beach, but just didn't really get an opportunity yet as I'm always busy with something during the weekends. Not today though. I had a Sunday to myself which I decided to use for a trip to Ocean Beach, the library, and some shopping.

It was quite chilly when I stepped outside, and windy. I thought to myself what bad luck with the weather. The day I decide to go to Ocean Beach, it is cold and windy. I hopped onto the 22 bus from 16th and Mission, just outside of my apartment, and transferred to the N line trams, which passed through Irving Street and passed very close to one my my favourite places to go for chicken wings - San Tung.

As we got closer to the beach, I saw the blue choppy waves in the distance. The surroundings were becoming less bustling as we passed through some residential districts. At the end of the line, I got off the tram, and crossing the street, arrived at the large grass covered dunes separating the beach from the rest of San Francisco.

I was greeted by an unusual sight. The wind was much stronger at the beach. Sand was being blown over the dunes and onto the road just behind it, creating a mini sandstorm reflecting the light from the headlights travelling through the dusty haze. As I walked through a gap in the dunes, my face felt like it was being sandblasted and I had to keep my eyes shut most of the time.

The beach was beautiful. It was a surprisingly wide and flat swath of sand littered with patches of pebbles, driftwood, and the occasional jellyfish as big as a dinner plate. It stretched up north about two kilometres from where I was standing to the Seal Rocks, with the white foamy sea furiously beating against its steep black cliffs, and the Cliff House perched precariously on the edge of a rocky outcropping. To the south, I can see rolling hills in the distance, green from the recent winter rains, but I can't see where the beach comes to an end. As I enjoyed the scenery, I played a game of leaning my back into the wind coming from the ocean to see how far back I can lean without falling over.

What really make this trip interesting and make me decide to write about it was the curious effects of the wind. I didn't stay long as it wasn't really that enjoyable due to the chill and the violent lashings from the stronger gusts, but the wind did produce an effect which I had not seen before. The wind was ripping the small foamy heads off of the cresting waves and scraping them along the beach. As some of the water was also being blown up the beach, there was a thin layer of water for the foam to slide on extending twenty to thirty metres from where the water actually ended, creating a second, false shore. Large ripples and waves of foam were being created and animated by the wind starting from water and ending up at and collecting at the false shore in large chunks. Once in a while, a strong gust of wind would rip apart such a collection, and pieces of the foam would race up the beach. As they were scraped along the sand, they would shrink in size until the popped out of existence. It was rather like watching a meteor storm that was happening in the sand below your feet rather than in the sky above your head.

This was the highlight of my day (yeah, I know, kind of a slow day) and I thought it was a great show which was surprisingly difficult to capture on camera. After a while however, I had to head back to get away from the wind and and cold to spend the rest of my day picking up fresh fruit from the local farmer's markets and books from the library.

Banff and Calgary - Day 6 (Epilogue)

We woke up at the unearthly time of 5:30 in the morning. This was especially bad for me, considering that having stayed on Pacific time, it was like waking up at 4:30 in the morning for me, which is not that much later than when I go to bed on the weekends.

Standing outside with my pack waiting for Kevin to get the car from the back, I stared up at the cold, crisp night sky filled with glimmering stars. The ground was covered in a layer of snow glistening dimly from nearby streetlights and the pale glow from the stars and the tiny sliver of a new moon. On this first day of December, I can feel winter is starting to arrive. As I played with making my breath into clouds of different shapes and sizes, I reflected on how I will miss the feeling of winter playfully nipping at my face. I also reflected on my long weekend trip, and felt quite satisfied with the amount of adventuring I fit into four days. I met a variety of characters who shared with me their differing views on life, explored strange cities and had seen some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. I have also come away with a newfound respect for nature and a sense that nothing is permanent so we must learn to enjoy all the positives in our lives in the current moment rather than dwell on the negative and look forward to better times.

We chatted a bit more during the drive to the airport on the empty lonely roads of early morning. As the plane took off I was treated to an areal view of where the Canadian Rockies collides with the Canadian Prairies, forming a massive straight line of folds followed by jagged peaks for as far as the eye can see. The sunlight was just hitting the top of the snowy peaks as we flew across the border back into the US. There was an amazing view of Mount Rainier, which I was surprised to see from as far south as California. On the final approach, I was treated to a beautiful view of a thick layer of fog folding and rippling around the Californian coastline and the San Francisco Bay. This was a great, relaxing way to end a vacation. However, I felt a shudder of mundane familiarity by the thought that I would be in the office at work in less than an hour.

Banff and Calgary - Day 5 (Part 2)

After brunch, I continued my walk around. I crossed Louise Bridge into downtown and followed a pretty park trail that follows the Bow River. The downtown core was clearly visible just outside the park, but it was like a separate world inside, with joggers, families spending time together, tourists with large cameras, trees, bridges to portions of the park on islands, and signs warning of coyotes. I walked though Eau Claire Market, which was in the trendy Eau Claire district. There were some cool shops and whatnot, but nothing that's worth mentioning individually. After Eau Claire, I walked through the very impressive Calgary Chinese Cultural Centre. It is a large brick building where the centre portion rises into a dramatic pagoda. On both the inside and outside, the pagoda is very meticulously decorated with paintings and colourful wooden beams, just like any of the large historical pagodas you can see in China. This pagoda atrium connected to different offices and rooms on multiple floors, and there was even a theatre from which the sounds of a Southern Chinese opera was emanating and floating up to fill the entire atrium. After marvelling at this unexpectedly majestic building, I ducked into the downtown core of Calgary where I was determined to explore the +15 system, their vast system of sky bridges connecting the buildings of the downtown core.

Seeing a +15 sign, I walked up and pulled on the door handle. It was locked! It turns out that most of the office buildings that the +15 is connected to are locked during weekends and holidays, which is not the case for the underground PATH system back home in Toronto that I was so familiar with. For the next half an hour, I wandered around town pushing and tugging on any doors that I felt had even a remote chance at granting me access to the +15. I passed through bustling Chinatown shopping centres to post-apocalyptic scenes of streets surrounded by looming office towers abandoned for the weekend. I went though dozens of doors and up and down many stairs trying to find my way into the +15 system. It felt like I was inside a computer game where I had to find the one open door to get to the next level. Just as I was about to give up, I found a way into the +15 system through an entrance to an underground parking garage.

Although the +15 system is not as large and Toronto's PATH or Montreal's RÉSO, I found it much more modern looking and futuristic. This was enhanced by the glowing electronic signs at all the doors advising you of the direction you are travelling in. At nearly all of the junctions, there are large round electronic podiums with touch screens with which search for your destination and scroll and zoom around the map. If you type in where you want to go, these podiums will plot a path for you. The system was also filled with automatic doors that open for you when you approach and close right after you pass through to prevent too much airflow between the buildings. It felt very futuristic to be walking between the lobbies of the large buildings through glass corridors carrying you above the traffic and the occasional park below. From these corridors, you can see a line of similar sky bridges stretching down the street, some of them towering up to three floors in height when connecting busy shopping centres! I was also extremely impressed by how clean the corridors, and the city as a whole is, which earned Calgary the distinction of being named the cleanest city on Earth by Forbes Magazine.

After exploring some of the nooks and crannies of the +15 system, I made my way to the Devonian Gardens. The Devonian Gardens is a large indoor park on the upper floors of the buildings connecting the busy Calgary Eaton Centre and the Hudson's Bay Company. The lower floors contain a bustling multilevel shopping centre stretching over three continuous blocks. Unfortunately for me, the gardens were closed for renovations, so I peeked through the windows and saw lush vegetation, paths, and small streams. It must be great for the office workers there to have such a beautiful place of serenity within a few minutes from their cubicles. If I worked in the downtown area, I would probably eat lunch there at least once or twice a week.

Since I was not able to see the Devonian Gardens, I walked to the adjacent Stephen Avenue Mall, a wide pedestrian street in the middle of downtown Calgary surrounded by shops and restaurants. This looks like it would be a great place to spend a day when it is warm outside.

Eventually, I wandered into the Calgary Tower, and although I was not originally planning to go up it, I decided that it was still early and I didn't have anything better to go. This turned out to be a great decision, as I really enjoyed the view from the top. For one thing, you can get a bird's eye view of all the major attractions in the Calgary area from the top of the tower. I enjoyed an interesting section that protruded out from the tower where the walls and floors were all glass so that you felt like you were hovering in mid-air. However, what I found most interesting was that from the top of the tower, one can clearly see the vast, flat landscape of the Canadian prairies. From that vantage point, the City of Calgary, and especially the downtown core looks like it just springs up in a vast expanse of emptiness, much like a patch of mushrooms after a spring shower, which all of a sudden made me feel very far from the rest of society, as this city appeared to me as a lone metropolis in a sea of emptiness. It was a very humbling and unsettling feeling that nature can just easily take over this city without its citizens fighting together for their existence. I wondered what will happen to Calgary after the Alberta oil boom is over. The view to the west was just as gorgeous, as one can see in the distance a jagged impenetrable wall rising abruptly from the flat terrain forming the Canadian Rockies. The soft orange-yellow hue of the sun getting low in the sky made the entire scene appear extraordinarily beautiful, but excruciatingly lonely and unsettling at the same time. I sat there for a while just enjoying the scenery and reflecting on the thought that our existence is much more fragile and at the mercy of nature than I had previously thought.

After the tower, I took the tram south and walked to the Mission District from the Stampede Grounds. There were some good views of the city along this walk. The Mission is a trendy neighbourhood with a lot of small shops, restaurants and bars. I feel that I would be very happy to live here. I noticed that there were a lot of French speakers around here as well as the city in general. I was eventually surprised to find that Calgary is surprisingly diverse, and that over 12% of the city's residents has French ancestry, which was only the 7th largest group in terms of ethnic origin.

Although I was very attracted to some of the restaurants and bars in the area, I decided to continue on as it was starting to get dark. Following Kevin's prescribed route, I walked into a residential neighbourhood and started going up icy, slippery hills. I came across a mysteriously narrow path leading into some bushes which were reduced to bunches of thin sticks for the winter. I decided to follow it. After a short hike, I found myself at the crest of a hill. Looking down, I saw a network of trails and a sea of buildings below me, which was very pretty against the setting sun.

Returning to my original path, I walked to Hillcrest, where I was greeted by a spectacular view of the downtown core. Apparently others have also taken note of this view, as the area was filled with large mansions and estates, including an extraordinarily large castle-looking manor flying the Union Jack.

I eventually made my way back to Kevin's apartment through some treacherously slippery and steep hills and roads. After dinner and hanging out for a while, we went to sleep early as I had to wake up to catch a 7:30 flight to work the next morning, and Kevin had graciously agreed to drive me to the airport.

Banff and Calgary - Day 5

After a standard morning wakeup routine, Kevin suggested a walking tour route and offered to drive me to where I would start my tour. He was going to play ultimate with his friends a bit later on, so he also gave me the keys to the apartment in case I needed to get back into the apartment before he was back.

After a quick breakfast at Calgary Court in Chinatown, a favourite restaurant of Kevin's for great cheap food and congee, and a quick stop at a park on Memorial Drive NW for a hilltop view of the downtown area with an island park in the foreground, I was dropped off in Kensington, a happening area of Calgary with many small shops, restaurants, and bars. Keven wrote the summary of my route on a parking receipt he found on his car after we realized I wouldn't remember all the places I should visit. As I forgot to bring my paper and pen with me, I stopped off at a Shoppers Drug Mart where I picked up the cheapest writing equipment I can find, a pack to two Bic pens and a pad of Post-Its. After making sure I have a means to record my day, I went about the next important piece of business, finding a map.

After a bit of searching through bookstores, I came across the City of Calgary Parks and Recreation Outdoor Information Centre located in the historic Kensington Fire Hall. There, I talked to a very friendly and soft spoken agent who fit the "Prairie farmer" stereotype very well. He was bearing a dark green shirt with buttons and wearing a baseball cap of a similar colour with the Calgary logo on it, which reminded me of a John Deere cap. He had the appearance of a hearty, old grandfather and had a large, glowing dimpled nose, the kind that some get from drinking too much. He happily offered me a free map from Calgary Transit that had a map of the region as well as a map of the downtown core, along with all the tram and bus lines. It was perfect. I took it, and after biding each other a pleasant day, I decided to walk back to the centre of Kensington to sit at a bar to plan my day over a drink.

After a short walk, I arrived at the Kensington Pub, which was suggested to me by someone at the bookstore. I liked it immediately as I entered. It was done in a stereotypical English Pub style. There was a lot of wood panelling inside, and it was rather dark. I immediately went to the bar and asked for what I had came to the pub for: a Caesar. Calgary is the birthplace of this very popular Canadian cocktail that is virtually unknown outside of Canada. It is made by mixing vodka, spices, and Clamato, which is a blend of tomato and clam juices. Although it is very similar to the Bloody Mary, its adherents assured me that without the clam juice in the cocktail, a Bloody Mary just tastes empty like it's missing something compared to the Caesar. In addition to having clam juice as an extra addition compared to the Bloody Mary, most bars also have a habit of garnishing the drink to add their own extra flair. The most interesting Caesar I've heard that you can get in Calgary is garnished with a skewer of pickled vegetables, onions, and sausage, topped off with a layer of fries. My drink was nowhere near as complicated. It came with a pickled asparagus added to the drink, and it was delicious.

After getting the drink, I sat on a small table by the window and pulled out my map and the parking receipt on which Kevin wrote the places I should see. I tore out the small portion of the map showing the zoomed-in view of downtown, and started to plan a route. At the same time, I pulled put my pad of sticky notes to record my trip so far. The waitress from the bar came over and asked me if I wanted anything to eat. Although I was quite full from breakfast, I noticed they had poutine of the menu which I couldn't resist. Poutine, a Quebec speciality, are fries covered in cheese curds and smothered in gravy, and is one of the foods I must eat every time I go back to Canada. After placing my order I suddenly realized that I forgot to leave a tip when I got my drink. I was really embarrassed, but since it was the same waitress, I decided just to leave the drink tip along with my food bill.

As I was sitting there marking my map while happily sipping on my drink and occasionally nibbling on the asparagus, my poutine arrived. I was horrified when I saw it. Although it was huge, it didn't have cheese curds on it! In the place of cheese curds, there was shredded yellow and white cheddar and it was baked. This was nearly as bad as the "Canadian Chips" I tried to order in an American pub once when I was actively searching for poutine in the US, which replaced the cheese curds with melted shredded yellow cheddar. Perhaps I should have heeded the warnings of the people I met on the trip who warned me that Western Canada doesn't really eat that much poutine. I also should have clued in when the menu said this dish was their "twist" on a dish from their "friends out East." In any case, I did end up enjoying my "faux-tine", but I still have not obtained my poutine fix for this trip which I had been looking forward to fixing as soon as I booked my flight.

Banff and Calgary - Day 4 (Part 2)

After rolling into the Calgary Greyhound Station, we piled into a cab that took us to Hostelling International Calgary, where the Kiwis had their beds booked. It was a complex of two story green buildings with green wood sidings and slanted roofs. The complex gave off a rather "community in a wilderness" feel to it, but the illusion was shattered by the glass skyscrapers of downtown Calgary in the background and having the the complex being situated in a rather dodgy part of town.

After spending some time on the phones tracking down the Couchsurfer who was to host me, and and unsuccessful search for hostels to stay at by Kim, we decided to head out to the Calgary Stampede Grounds to look for some hockey tickets. The Kiwis decided that of course, their trip to Canada would be incomplete without attending a hockey game! After arriving at the Stampede Grounds, we wandered through the maze of hallways and corridors of this vast compound. We saw some kind of trade fair going on in some buildings, and many eclectic historical displays including a long hallway where each year's advertising poster for the Calgary Stampede was displayed. A few were missing from the collection, but I guess you can't blame them for not being able to find a copy of a poster from over a century ago.

Not having any success finding hockey tickets, Smitty and Kim decided to head off to spend some time alone. Darryl, Mark, and I continued the search through the rest of the compound. It was now early evening, and in the northern winter sun, everything was bathed in a soft golden glow. We travelled aimlessly from building to building, stumbling onto a gift shop, another trade show, and a dog show where we sat behind a window to watch while we rested with cup of hot chocolate. Eventually, we made our way to the Saddledome, where we were told the tickets for tonight's game were sold out, but if we come back an hour later, some tickets may be freed up.

Luckily, we didn't have to wait around for long as we stumbled upon a Chinese man standing outside the stadium with some tickets to sell. He claimed that he had driven to Calgary from Red Deer, but that his friend was not going to make it. He had some tickets that seemed too good to be true, and asked for a very reasonable price, still expensive, at over $100 each, but a good price for those seats. Although we were suspicious, we decided to play along. When we mentioned that we didn't have enough cash, he offered to drive us to an ATM, but wait! He just remembered that he had a baby seat in his car, so only one of us can go with him! Well, seeing that I wasn't planning on attending the game as I had to go meet my Couchsurfer soon, I watched as Darryl followed him and disappeared.

As we waited at a nearby Casino, I arranged for the Couchsurfer to pick us up. Although he had offered to host Kim as well, Kim declined, because of what I assume was her apprehension for staying at a stranger's place and her wanting to spend more time with Cameron. Just as we were starting to get worried, Darryl returned, and after getting lost and bumbling around for a bit, we met up with the Couchsurfer, Kevin. After driving in the wrong direction due to bad instructions caused by a mix-up of the streets in Calgary being divided up into different quadrant directions, we arrived at the hostel just as the evening was becoming night. I picked up my bag, gave the Kiwis $30 to give to Kim for the car, and left with Kevin, knowing that as with nearly all the other travellers I meet, I will never see or hear from them again.

Kevin was a Chinese Canadian about my age who had also lived in the Greater Toronto Area. He currently works as a pipeline risk consultant, and told me about his adventures a a kid travelling along with a family that worked on oil projects around the world, including in some relatively dangerous countries. At his apartment, he made me a wonderful steak dinner with some high quality Alberta beef. He even bought a steak for Kim, but unfortunately she decided not to come with me to Keven's place. It was still too early to head over to the Couchsurfing party, so we lounged around a bit. I tried playing Little Big Planet, which I found to be so unbearably cute so that I can't stop thinking about it. We also watched Kung Fu Panda.

When it was late enough, we walked down the street to an old, mysterious-looking house with a lawn surrounded by a thin decorative metal fence with a gate. We walked into the house, and met the resident Couchsurfers. They had plans of turning their house into a dedicated Couchsurfing house to give the Calgary community a place they can call home. The house itself was very interesting. It was very old and had strange and embellished decorative elements. The sinks in the washrooms were shaped like shells and reminded me of public washroom in the lobbies of very old and somewhat run-down theatres. As with most older houses, it had mysterious doors, passages, and small storage spaces and cubbyholes in the walls all over. Some of the walls and doors had lively drawings on them by some previous artist with a thick marker. There was a makeshift bedroom downstairs with a mattress on the floor, currently in use by a Couchsurfer who had been there for a month and a half. There were candles all over, a fireplace which we lit, and seating available in the form of pads on the floor, folding chairs, and a few sofas.

Only about half of the people were in pyjamas, but I met many interesting people throughout the night. One of the Couchsurfers that lived in the house showed us her pet lizard, which we took turns holding. She also showed us a collection of jewellery she made and claimed that we can purchase these from the Guggenheim museum for up to $400 a piece. There was a French Canadian living at the house who made us spiced hot chocolate with brandy from scratch, which he served out of an antique round long-necked glass jug which sitting in a frilly black metal holder over a lit caldle. He also made us vegan crêpes with a maple syrup and butter sauce. A guy from Montpelier made us some croissants from scratch, and there was beer, wine, and other delicious snacks such as chocolate covered rice crispie treats and banana bread. We talked throughout the night, and at one point a group of French Canadians broke out into traditional French Canadian songs and were teaching us to play the spoons. I also met a few of the Couchsurfers that I had requested a couch from but were unable to host me. It turns out that the Calgary Couchsurfing crowd was very tight-knit and quite political, as different people had differeing views on what Couchsurfing should be.

When the night was over, we walked back. I got some pointers from Keven as to where to go and what to see for the full day that I am in Clagary. I set up my sleeping bag and got ready for bed. I'm planning on waking up at a reasonable hour and talking an all-day walking tour of Calgary. I was looking forward to actually getting a good amount of sleep for the night so I am fully awake to enjoy my only day alone on this trip. As it was also my last day before flying back and going directly to work early in the morning, I decided to take it easy and just relax the next day.