Promises that Vancouver was ‘just like Sydney, but colder’, and depictions of Calgary as a cowboy bumhole town did not exactly tickle my travel bug. Similarly, as a lover of architecture, history and culture when I travel, the idea of 1000km of mountain, snow, forest and farming left me feeling dim over the prospects of ten days oot and aboot in Canadia.
Once again, my preconceptions were entirely incorrect. I was proven to be a fool, and I am ever so grateful for this.
Calgary is presented as the Canadian oil capital, run by barrens dressed in boots and cowboy hats. Picture the Texan Oil magnate character in The Simpsons. Depiction=wrong.
Whilst the CBD is awash with Texaco, Caltex and other such logos which would enrage the environmentalists, the city itself is more a collection of villages determined very much by their geographic location along the river. Kilometres of parkland and bicycle tracks mean the city is very much one of outdoor pursuits.
But, it hardly forms the peak of Canadian experiences. From a personal perspective, there were certainly fun times, but let’s move on to more interesting events…
Armed with one shiny, sexy black car complete (and one not so sexy blue one), six of us made our way from Calgary, eagerly heading towards Mountain country.
It is truly impossible to capture or depict the Canadian Rocky Mountains with either words or images. The vast nature of the landscape, the sheer size and diversity renders it utterly unfeasible.
But hey, I’ll give it a go.
The view from the car driving out of Calgary towards Banff is much like rural Australia- flat, endless pastoral territory dotted with sheep the sole witnesses to a single lane highway. But suddenly, you follow a bend in the road and rising out of nowhere are mountains, forests and the beginnings of snow-capped peaks.
As you continue climbing, the entire environment begins to change. Arid, rocky outcrops are interspersed with pine tree clusters clinging to the sides of peaks. The windows become noticeably frosted as temperatures drop in the space of an hour from a balmy 28 degrees in Calgary, to -10 on top of Sulphur Mountain near Banff.
Driving through the picturesque chalet tourist town of Banff, we question the prevalence of people attired in winter ski gear, when we are comfortable in the car wearing just tshirts and Havainas. As our gondola climbs Sulphur Mountain, we see that the temperature is now in negative territory, and the need for inclementally appropriate attire is made obvious with the first blasts of frost, ice and snow we encounter as we exit the comfort of indoors.
Needless to say, S and I are the subject of much laugher and derision as we climb mountains in thongs. I lost count of how many times I heard “bloody Australians”.
The Rocky Mountains truly are days upon days of continually mind blowing scenery. Icy lakes and streams, colours you could never imagine, layer upon layer of peaks emerging as you follow the twists and bends of the road.
Indeed, the vista is so surreal, that the much awaited Lake Louise seemed a disappointment. After the rugged, untouched beauty of Lake Moraine, Louise is a tamer sister, with high tea, manicured gardens and paved walkways diminishing the sense of unreal. But truly, disappointment is relative- it’s all still incredible.
Our group spent three days tucked away in a log cabin in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. We ate, drank and relaxed in a Jacuzzi with open window… such was the location, that wild deer popped their heads in to see where the heat and steam came from- much to our surprise and theirs.
All in all, the three days I was least excited about turned out to be highlights of our trip, and I was extraordinarily disappointed to be continuing back into civilisation and Vancouver…
But that’s another story…
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