Quincy Market

One little gem we found was a place called Quincy Market. It's the place we were looking for to pick up the hop-on tickets.

Great food market. Interesting stalls.










Interesting statues.

There is also a replica Cheers bar there.

Sarah could spend some time in this place.
Most meal times, actually.

Declaration

There is a building around the corner, called the Old State House. This is where some guy read out a just completed declaration to the gathered masses.

You may have heard of it. It was made famous by Nicholas Cage in a movie called National Treasure.

Also here is a hotel called Parker House. They have two claims to fame.

• First, some guy called John Wilkes Booth stayed here before he became famous in Washington.
• Second, they invented the Boston Cream Pie.

Also took a look at a historic house in the posh Beacon Hill.

Sarah enjoyed seeing the way things were done when I was younger.

We then looked around the State House. It's a bit obvious, with a gold knob on the top.

I'm looking at it from this angle, because is what is called Hooker's Entrance. Here's a statue of General Hooker. Again, sorry at the view of the equine genitalia, but not a lot of choices.

Interesting story.

Apparently, General Hooker was popular with his men, because he would provide them with ladies of the night. They were referred to a Hooker's Ladies. Guess what they are called now?

Here's a couple of shots from inside.

Does anybody else think this is a little over the top?

History Lesson

Did a bit of a history tour today.

First went to Paul Revere's house. Old. Small. It was 100 years old when he bought it, so really old now.

The neighbourhood is really cool. Narrow streets, some cobbled, Little churches tucked into hidden nooks.

This house is his. There is a little sign next to the lamp post.

This is just around the corner.














Then we went down the road to the Old North Church. This is the one of "Two if by sea" fame, remember?

A little odd inside, because the pews are all partitioned off. Families would 'buy' their pew anually, and could decorate it in any way they wanted.

You will see that some have more recently been used by some more famous people.

O marks the spot

As I have said before, Boston is very nice. There are beautiful old buildings everywhere, and they really do have history up the wazoo. Anybody interested in history or historic buildings would love Boston.

I did notice one thing, however. Wherever there is a historic site, it is marked by both a Starbucks and a Dunkin' Donuts store. Every one.

It seems that Dunkin' Donuts head office is in Boston, and there are 93 stores here. One for each historic location.

Alert The Media

Obviously waiting for a whale to drive past our cruise ship when we were watching, failed.

No sign of one at Lake Louise, either. The baby whales 4 inches long didn't count.

Lake Ontario was a bust as well.

There was nothing for it. We signed on for a whale-hunting expedition with a Japanese Scientific vessel out of Boston. Evidence enclosed.

Hopping about

Did the hop-on-hop off today. Took a while to find where to get our tickets. Google pointed me to a building a couple of blocks away from where it was. A few interesting conversations with Sarah later, I get us to the right place, and we are off.

There are so many old buildings here. In a good way. So much history. Not just of Boston, but of Amrika. Day One started right here.

Here's an example of the imposing buildings here. I have no idea what it is, but is one of thousands in the area. This is probably one of the most boring.

The amount of history seeping from every mortar seam makes it look like New Zealand was colonised last Thursday.

Let's see. This is Tuesday, so this must be Boston.

Arrived at Boston Airport.

Hard to make a judgement, because the terminal is being renovated. We arrived at the domestic terminal, because customs was done in Toronto.

There are 2 ways out of the airport via subway. The silver line leaves from inside the terminal, but it will take a few changes to get where we are staying. The blue line requires a bus ride from the terminal to the train, but it goes straight to the station we want. So blue it is, then.

At the train station, we get what is called a Charlie Card, and load it for use. This is like the card used in SIN, but not quite as hi-tech. Unlike Singapore, there is no refund for unused value, but at least the card is free.

The station was only 3 minutes from where we are staying.

Nice part of town. It's called Beacon Hill. Very old. Very posh. Very nice.

US Customs

The customs queue we were in was not to leave Canadia, but to arrive in Amrika.

So, all of the issues we have had getting into Amrika, are recreated here. While I stand patiently in the queue, I wonder if this is in fact a psychological ploy by the customs boffins. I know that I am attributing to them a collective intellect that is most probably undeserved, but I began to wonder if the delays were a tactic to undermine all of us undeserving miscreants.

I've seen the same cop shows they have. Sweat the suspect in the interview for an hour before the detective is ready to see him. That'll rattle him. Same here. If the queue is going too quickly, send some staff for lunch.

I noticed as we entered the customs queueing area, a sign saying the use of cellphones in the area is prohibited, just like every other airport I have ever been to. Apparently, I was the only one who read it. There were so many who just had to phone or text their loved ones, or tweetees, with their every thought. Perhaps they did know about the rules, because by the second fold from the front, nobody was on their phone. Perhaps they had just run out of people to talk to.

I mentioned that the queue we were in was about 2.5 times the size of the other one. Did I mention that their were more staff in the other one as well? Are you surprised? At customs, I needed to do that whole fingerprint thing again. Didn't last time, now that I think about it. Sarah struggled to fit her tiny hand on the same pad that I had squeezed my neanderthal paw onto. Go figure!

Once we get past the customs goons, we need to drop our bags. There is a guy there reciting some sort of reggae poem about today being Monday, tomorrow being Wednesday, and Tuesday occurring some time next week. Very cheerful, jovial chap. Not some dope-head traveller, he's staff. There to help you get your bag onto the belt. Wheels facing up, maahn.

Then we queue yet again. This time for security screening. One woman tried to go down what appeared to be a short cut, only to be told that this way is for random selections. He then decides that the fat white guy would make a good random selection. Oddly, I pass the test, so blend back into the queue for scanning. Bonus, I am now about 15 people ahead of Sarah in the queue.

I have listened to her "thoughtful and constructive suggestions" over the last few flights, and have already transferred any items out of my pockets, into a side pocket in my backpack. As a result, I go through quickly without failing that test either. If I had failed that test, I would have had to take a trip through the full-body stand-up tanning booth. I did one of those in a previous airport. Calgary, I think. Didn't notice any improvement to my gothic tan, though.

We both got through without the need for the tanning booth (seriously, does Sarah need a tanning top-up?), and then popped upstairs to the Air Canadia lounge. A quick snack and waited till boarding time.

Getting out of town

Took the 1145 flight from Toronto to Boston. Got to the airport at 0815, and rocked up to the kiosk. There was an offer for an upgrade to First for a nominal fee, so we took it. This increased our luggage allowance to 3 bags each, but we still had just the one each. No saris bought yet, remember?

We then queued to the bag-drop counters. This is something of a misnomer, as we don't drop out bags here at all. The idea is to get the bags tagged (by the agent at the counter), and proceed to the queue for customs. Today, it appears that there were not enough customs agents in (deja vu, anyone?), so the queue extended along behind the counters, for the full length of counters, then out from behind the counters and across the check-in hall, round the corner, and about another 20m beyond that. Total from the entrance to the customs hall to the end of the queue, probably a little over 100m. That's the queue to drop our bags after tagging.

As we were making our way slowly along the snaking queue, staff would come down and call for pax on flights leaving at 0915, then 0930, then 1000. These people were whisked away to the front of the line, which only slowed the rest of us further.

And then we made it to the door. Yay!!

Inside the door were two Disney queues, one to the right and one to the left. We were directed to the one on the left. By the time I had made it to the end, I calculated that it folded back on itself 9 times, and each fold took 11 lengths of tenser tape, at about 3-4 people per length. So that is about 360 pax in our queue. The other queue, I discover to my chagrin, has folds about a third as long as ours, so that queue only holds 100 and change.

So do the maths. Both Disney queues were full, totalling about 480 pax. The snake queue probably adds another 150. So, when we got there, there were well over 600 people waiting to drop their bags.

Did you notice that I called this a customs queue? We STILL had our bags. No, this is not a repeat of our boarding the boat angst from not many weeks ago.

Burn, burn, burn

Canadians have a cool take on things. I guess you could say that they are to Amricans what kiwis are to ozzies.

Despite being fanatical hockey fans (the cold type, not what all kiwi Indians do), they tend to have a self-deprecating view on the world. One of the guys doing the hop-on-hop-off commentary seemed to take a pride in the fact that the Toronto sports teams had record losing streaks.

He was telling us about the Rogers Stadium, the first retractable-roofed stadium to be built. It also has an attached hotel, with 70 rooms that look directly over the stadium. It has a couple of interesting stories from it's history. The first is from the opening ceremony.
On this day, the stadium was packed with the gliterati of Toronto, and a song had been written for the occasion. When it came time to retract the roof for the first time, the stadium erupted with a chant of "open the dome". It opened. So did the skies. It seems that it takes 20 minutes to fully retract the roof, and another twenty minutes to close the roof. It also seems that once the process begins, it cannot be stopped.
For 40 minutes, the wealthy and influential of Toronto sat and squelched.
I do hope that their Armanis are wash and wear.

The other story relates to those hotel rooms that overlook the stadium. It appears that one occupant was more interested in the woman with him in the room, rather than the game. Unfortunately, he assumed incorrectly that the glass was one way, and that the rest of the stadium was oblivious to what they were doing in there.
Doh!!

Anyway, Toronto has an interesting history. They either had really crappy fire departments, or were just unlucky. It seems that everything they built, burnt down. Even the fire stations.

They reached the point that the governing body for Toronto made a ruling that any new building in the city centre must be made of brick. Hope they don't have any earthquakes. Yikes.

Most fires were accidents, but there was one which was started intentionally. A group of Amrikans snuck up there and burnt down one of the original parliament houses. The site is now used for a lube-shop. Not to be outdone, a group of Canadians went down over the border and returned the favour. Unfortunately, the rains started just after the fire did, so it went out. All that happened was that the building needed whitewashing to cover the damage to the salmon-coloured building. Not long after, this building became known as The White House. "The Salmon House" doesn't really have the same gravitas, does it? "The Pink House"? Yeah Nah!

So, The Amrikans got The White House. The Canadians got an auto-lube. Fair deal, don't you think?

Last day in Toronto

Well, that was Toronto.

Yesterday we went on a boat cruise, part of the hop-on-hop-off tour. Quite nice.
Went right past a wee airport on the island in Lake Ontario. It is apparently owned by Porter Airlines, the only airline to use it. They fly Dash 8s to Amrika and also to domestic ports from there.

After that, we took another Injun adventure. Sarah had seen advertising for a place called the Indian Bazaar, the largest Indian shopping centre in North Amrika.

So off we go to the station, to try and figure out the best way to get there. Three different staff gave us 3 different routes to go. Not helpful. I think I have a handle on it. Sarah is not so sure. We need to take the subway for a couple of stations, and then a trolley car to where we want to get off. The subway is a doddle, same as everywhere else. Obviously we are staying closer together on subways here, but otherwise no issue. When we bought our ticket ($3 to go anywhere in town on any transport) we get a transfer ticket. This is to show the driver or attendant on any subsequent sector. Proof of payment.

Now we are finding our way out, and to the trolley-car stop. Needed a bit of direction from a local, and we were at the right corner. But no stops visible.

There is the trolley-bus, the number we were told to get, and facing the right way. East gets us where we are going. Trouble is, it's on the other side of the intersection, parked in the middle of the street, at the lights. Crap!

At the moment, traffic is going NS, we are on the west corner, and the trolley-bus is on the east side of the intersection. The NS pedestrian is coming to a close. They have a count-down, with 12 seconds to clear the crossing before the red light. 9,8,7... hurry up...6,5,4... there are people still getting onto the trolley-bus.
The NS crossing is now red, and the EW crossing should start any second. Come on, come on. Yes, let's go. Over the crossing, and we tail-end onto the trolley. Sheesh!

These trolley-buses are a little odd, to us anyway. But, hey, they seem to be very efficient. According to the map I have, we have about 6 blocks to travel, so we elect to stand.  Six blocks later and we come to the first street on my map. This is further than we thought, but at least we are going in the right direction. I have to admit to trawling the map for each unknown street as we stop at each one. I have vivid memories of our experience driving in Sweden.

So I am very relieved to at last see a street that I recognise. I can relax.

We approach the area mentioned on the map as the Indian Bazaar. Should go for a few blocks on this street. We now start seeing ethnic shops and people. Definitely not indian, more chinese. Doh!

Let's just stick it out for a few more blocks. Maybe the indians have all gone. That can't be true. The centre of the city was awash with them for the Bollywood awards in the city centre on Saturday night.

A few blocks down, and we started seeing some hint that we were in the right area.

We got off and had a look around. Lots more clothing stores, selling lots more clothes.
Surprisingly, for the second time on our holiday, Sarah left a clothes-shopping spree empty-handed.
They are cheaper back home (Bangladesh), apparently.

Had dinner at an Irish pub mid-town, and packed up to go.

Off to Toronto pronto

We are now in Toronto. The flight took 3.5 hrs, and we put our clocks on 2 hrs from Calgary. There is no train from the airport, so a taxi it is.

Had dinner at a place called St Louis. BBQ ribs and wings is the style, and not at all bad. The waitresses all seem to be blonde with push-up bras. I see there is a Hooters somewhere else in town, so maybe this is a Hooters-lite.

Did the hop-on-hop-off bus today. It got off to a slow start. I asked the hotel where is the best place to pick it up, and the guy said he would call them and they would come get us. Unexpected. So, we waited 10 minutes, and the guy comes into the foyer to get us. There seems to be an issue with people using online bookings, so it took a while for them to confirm the printed voucher we had. He then took us to where we could intercept a bus and we were off.

This really is a good way to have a look around the place, and see what there is to see or do.

One cool place is called Casa Loma, a big-arsed castle smack in the middle of Toronto.

This house was built by Sir Henry Pellatt, one of the richest business magnates of the early 1900s.

He made a lot of money in the railway, then the stock market, then real estate. He introduced a little invention by Thomas Edison to Toronto.

He was then instrumental in getting hydropower set up at Niagara Falls, to get power to the people.

Once that was up and running, the government who previously gave permission for the project to go ahead, changed their mind. Leading up to an election, somebody convinced the people that electricity is something that is the right of the people, and should be free to all. The promise that their power would one day be free turned the tide, and allowed the government to nationalise the power company. Pellatt and his partners, having invested millions, were left with nothing. And the promise for free electricity to the people? Any day now, I’m sure.

 He ended up going broke before the house was finished, so the swimming pool, the bowling alley and the rifle range, all in the basement, were left unfinished. As we all know, a castle’s resale value really plummets without a working bowling alley. Even the full-sized pipe organ didn’t help.

It has been a tourist attraction since before I was born, and seems to be the home for the local Kiwanis, who have been responsible for it’s upkeep all that time.

The bowling alley is now a restaurant and gift shop. The pool remains unfinished.

We wandered around the castle for quite a while. This included an 800 ft tunnel from the basement to the stables and garages. They are actually across the road above ground, quite some distance from the big house. I didn’t count, but I’m not sure if they have more couches than The Sarahton.

 

There are a couple of secret passages, as you would expect. I left Sarah waiting on the 3^rd floor, while I explored further up through an attic staircase. 

Little did I know that there would be 4 more staircases after I left her. It was up into the tower you see in the picture, and included 2 metal spiral staircases. It’s like climbing the Cathedral spire in Christchurch. Past tense, unfortunately.

We also went to what we were told is the largest mall in Canadia. Really?  They obviously don’t know what big means here. Never mind. Brand new mall, but the food court is not flash.

They did have, however, a shop that took Sarah’s fancy. It is laid out like a farmer’s market in the middle of a mall.

Visiting

Sarah made a call to a family friend living in Calgary. They insisted on a visit, so they came and picked us up.
We caught up with some friends she hasn't seen in a couple of years, some not for almost 20 years, and some kids she hadn't met.

The houses in Calgary look a little odd to us. They are tall and quite narrow. One house we visited had 4 split levels, and the other was 2-storied. Every house in Calgary must have a basement, for hurricanes.

The high basement windows are at ground level, so the ground floor is always about 3 feet above the ground. I guess that is why they look so tall.

Not only do they have about 3 feet of snow, they also have temperatures of about -40. I told our hosts that there is no way Sarah will be visiting during winter.

But wait, there's more

Remember I said that the hotel offers a shuttle service. Well, here;s the process. Pickup is from bay 11, but at bay 10 there's a phone to call the hotel, and they will send the shuttle.

Hang on a minute. Where is this bay 11, again? She didn't say. We arrive at the terminal from the rental car drop, and start looking around. On the departure level. There's a number at each door, so go to door 10. No phone in sight. Nah, it will be on the arrivals level right? That makes sense. So down we go. Door 10, and still no phone. OK. Nobody is watching. I am going to ask somebody. Oh, NOT door 10, but PILLAR 10, on the other side of the road, and down a ways, eh?

Good grief!

OK. Here we go. Pillar 10, there's the phone, ring the number, ... Nothing . The number doesn't work.

Take a breath.

Go inside, get some dinner from the food court. Come back out and join the group trying to contact the hotel. Somebody gets through at last. They are on their way.

Was it supposed to be this hard?

Well, THAT didn't take long!

We had a rental car, as you know. It is due back tomorrow, before we fly to Toronto.
By 1600 we had done everything we needed, so thought we might as well take the car back this afternoon. The hotel offer a complementary shuttle service, so we can get a ride back to the hotel tonight, and to the airport in the morning. Nothing could be simpler. We are staying at an airport hotel, and we can see the airport from our window.

So. My astute navigator wonders if setting the GPS to home will take us to the airport. We've done it before, so no problem. Off we go. The system says we will be there in 6 minutes, so seems reasonable.

Off we go, and in 6 minutes we pull up outside the Sandman Airport Hotel. GREAT!
Note to self. If I ever work at a rental car company, I will make sure that every GPS has "home" reset to the car depot.

I happened to notice as I pulled in here, a sign saying that access to the airport is not available via the road I just turned off, Barlow Trail. When we put the actual airport address into the GPS, it directed me back onto Barlow Trail. They have funny names for streets here. I knew that direction was wrong, so I went the other way, following the detour sign. No issues, the GPS will recalculate in a minute.

It took a while, because the road I was now on didn't exist, according to the GPS. But I kept driving, until we joined up with a road the GPS recognised.

So. Again. Lets trust the GPS. It's taking us in a large loop to the right, must be coming into the airport from the other side. Twenty odd minutes later, we are passing buildings we recognise. The GPS is now directing us to turn into Barlow Trail. The bloody GPS has brought us in a complete circle, back to where we started.

As you can imagine, Sarah is not best pleased with this turn of events.

Solution? Stop listening to either the navigator to my right, or the one in the dash. Follow every "Airport Detour" sign I see. Another twenty minutes, and a large loop to the left, and we make it to the airport. Finding the drop-off point is a doddle after all that.

Driving

It was drizzling as we left Lake Louise, and again in Banfff. As we continued toward Calgary, we got heavier rain, and a bit of thunder and lightning.

We have actually been very lucky with the weather. This is a transit day, so it really doesn't matter that it's raining.

On the drive, Sarah saw about 5 Bambis, I maybe saw 2. Still no bears or mooses. Or is that meese?

Entering Calgary was the worst rain, but by the time we got to the hotel we seemed to have passed it. Sunny afternoon. Go figure.

Willy Wonka

As we left Banffff, we decided on a wee detour onto a lake drive.

The lake is called Minnewanka. 
I know!
Apparently it means "water of the spirits". 
OK then.


Sarah and I can't agree on the pronunciation, so I just call it Lake Willy Wonka.


I know that some of you will expect me to make a meal out of that one, but I choose to take the high road.


It does, however, remind me of a story. There is always great significance in the Indian tribes when a name is bestowed on anything, be it a lake or a child.


In our story, a young Indian boy had spent most of his life in a quandry... He felt different yet... couldn't figure why... he was just so depressed. He went to the Chief for answers... He asked the chief how his brother Red Deer Running had gotten his name...

The chief answered in his typically poetic way..."When Red Deer Running was born, at the moment of his birth, the first thing his mother saw was a beautiful deer running off into the forest... and so Running Deer was named. It is the custom of our tribe to name the offspring according to the spirits in nature visiting upon the birth."

Then, the boy said to the Chief... And how did my sister "Thundering Bird" get her name? The chief described again, how at the moment of her birth Thundering Bird's mother had heard a roar of thunder and looking up, saw a bird flying in the sky...

The boy asked again, how his cousin "White Crouching Bear" had been given such a name... And the chief, looking down once more at the boy, explaining the traditions of their tribe.... White Bear's mother had seen a rare white bear crouched over a stream at the moment her baby's birth. Then he asked the boy...

"Why do you ask, Two Dogs Fucking?"

Sorry. I just had to do it.

Leaving town

Left Lake Louise today.

Last night, I went for a wander down to the lakefront, to see if the hotel gets lit up. No it doesn't. To be honest, it would probably be detrimental to the view below.

However, it never seems to get fully dark there, at least not while an old fart like me is conscious.
The lake looks amazing at 2300. Just like this.

Need I say more?

On the way back to Calgary, we popped in to have a look at Banffff. This is another town doing a damn good job of recreating a Swiss village in Canadia.
Here's what I mean.

But if you think THAT is impressive, check THIS out!!!

Holy Crap!!



This is the Fairmont Banffff Springs Hotel. I'm thinking a cross between the castle at Disneyland and Colditz Castle.

Damn, that's impressive!

I tell you what, in winter, this place will be absolutely crazy.

Toilet Humour

People have said that I occasionally use what is referred as toilet humour.

Perhaps.

Here's more.

I have already spoken about the toilets in Amrika flushing the wrong way. I have spoken about the whole "glass half full" thing with the toilet full of water. But I think this is worse.

I saw today, a public toilet. We have all seen them, but I doubt we have given them a second thought. You know the ones. They have a horseshoe-shaped seat, open at the front.

My question is this. How lazy can a guy be, to INVENT a toilet seat that he doesn't need to lift before he goes? Seriously!

Visual Illusion

This place is absolutely beautiful. No description, no photo, no video could do it justice.

It feels as though you are standing in a postcard. Here's why.

We are used to seeing mountains back home. Just look outside any west-facing window and you are likely to get a mountain view that people are impressed by.

Go to Queenstown, and even more so, because you are right in amongst it.

But even in Queenstown, I have never seen an effect like this. I learnt about it at varsity, but don't remember experiencing it. Till I got here.

Blue haze. We see it every day, and do not even realise it. When we see mountains in the distance, it is usually through a blue haze. This is how our brain decides that it is in the distance.
I don't know what causes the blue haze, but it's a good bet that pollution is involved.
When something is close, no haze. When it is far, haze. Every day.

Up here, there is no haze, so those mountains look sooo close. Everything looks so close. That's why it feels like we are in a postcard. It feels like you can reach out and touch it.

Bear Poop

This morning we went for a walk. To the other end of the lake. According to the map that is 2 km long. In Sarah-speak, that is twice the length of Northlands mall. Really? Does this look 2 km away?

No. I don't think so, either.

Anyway, we did it, and Sarah didn't see a single whale. A few little fish, which she thinks are maybe baby whales, but I doubt it.

But we did manage to answer the age old question. Yes, Virginia, the bear DOES shit in the woods. We found indisputable evidence on the trail.

They say they are so into saving the environment here, but nobody went into the woods to pick up the bear poop.

Now that I think about it, in those Yogi Bear cartoons, I never saw Ranger Smith with a pooper scooper!


Something to think about, eh?

There are a range of people who do this walk.
Right up front, we are with the middle-aged Japanese tourists and small children.
We are going to the end of the lake and back. That's it. No further.

Sarah only wanted to go part way, and I am very proud of her for doing it. She is not an outdoors girl, and is rather prone to hay fever when she does go bush. Luckily no hay fever, no issues.

But there are different types of people who do this walking thing.

They can usually be categorised by the size of backpack they wear. We, of course, don't carry one on this walk.

There are those who have what I would call the bikini backpack, which can hold a can of coke and a sock.
These are the people who know they look good in lycra, and this is how they do it, measured in minutes. They may not even see the view around them.

Then there are the serious guys, who are heading for those white areas up near the blue. They have all sorts of useful doodads hanging from their belts.
They are in a hurry. Infacttheyareinsuchahurrytheydon'teventakeabreathwhentheyspeak, if they speak. That kind of a hurry. They aren't much interested in the view at this level. The only view they like is the one looking down from the white/blue line.

We saw one more today. She is a teenager, and spent the entire walk (sans backpack) looking at the ground, 3 steps ahead. She passed most of us.
To me, she is one of those "AlrightI'mwalkingdoyouseethatI'mwalkingyoutoldmetowalkandI'mwalkingbutIhadbettergetbacktomyroombeforeOprahstartsorsomebodyisgoingtobereallyreallyforit" kind of people.

Conclusion, the people who enjoy the view, are those who don't carry a backpack. And looking around them, of course.

Lake Louise

We saw a sign that said Lake Louise a few kms back, but still no guarantees.

Then the turn-off. Close.

"Pull over and punch in the address. We aren't going to find the hotel without the address"

We'll be fine. Don't admit defeat just yet.

Just in the nick of time, I saw the name of our hotel on a sign, and Sarah missed it, so she keeps stressing.
I was going to mention it, honest.
In a minute.
Just one more minute.
OK I tell her. Doesn't seem to help.

Come around a bend and there it is. A monster hotel, right in the middle of absolutely nothing. The wilderness!

There is no way that you could miss this hotel, but not a word from the navigator's seat.

Nice hotel. Amazing views. Here's a couple of pictures.

Did you notice that last photo?

The view from quite high up. The 7th floor, actually.

We got upgraded to the 7th floor. Nice views.

On the 8th floor are the posh rooms. Well, posher actually. All rooms a a little bit posh.

Anyway, the 8th floor gets free wifi, and nobody else does.

Funny thing about wifi signals. Floors are no barrier to the signal. You know where I'm going with this, right?

Needless to say, we didn't get charged for any wifi usage while at Lake Louise.

Don't tell anybody.