Tag Archives: Calgary

Hopeful Travels

Posted on by
Reply

It’s fair to say our time at Calgary Airport was not especially happy. Airports, on the whole are never wonderful places to spend time. Many hopeful travellers arrive and like to pass the hours quaffing beers in the nearest bar- even in the early morning- . Having dropped the deficient campervan off at Cruise Canada depot and been told that ‘we don’t supply that’ to the long list of missing items we’d compiled, we’d got a taxi to the airport. But since we’d had to deposit the van before midday, the remaining time until eight pm would have to be passed waiting for the flight, which would be overnight.

Our morning had been dogged by difficulty. I’d been trying [and failing] to upgrade our seats. Air Canada had, in its wisdom, allocated us seats in the middle of the plane [never my favourite] and one behind the other; also the middle of the middle. I’d managed to get on to what I thought was Air Canada’s website and had been trying to upload various documents and photos of things to a man I [erroneously, as it turned out] assumed to be an airline staff member. I had failed in this- and thank goodness I had! I continued to ‘hold’ [as instructed] until I felt like I was welded to the phone- and all the way into Calgary. The journey [which I’d been dreading] was nowhere near as difficult as anticipated, but even in the taxi to the airport I was still talking to the supposed Air Canada employee…

On our arrival it was far too early to drop the bags. At last I gave up on the upgrade, feeling exhausted. We went to get a coffee. My phone rang. It was someone from Air Canada. ‘Have you been speaking to a travel agent?’ he asked. I explained I’d been trying to upgrade our seats, to be told I had not been communicating with an Air Canada employee at all. I blanched, horrified. I’d need to cancel my bank cards straight away. This meant an extraordinarily long ‘hold’ once more on my phone. Once I’d managed to cancel both bank cards and get off the line my reaction was to burst into tears of relief.

Clearly we had to put up with the middle-of-the-middle seats.

The time passed and we rid ourselves of the suitcases then went to departure. By now I was reeling with relief that I hadn’t gifted a large sum of money to the scammers and was happy enough to sit somewhere and read or to peruse the meagre selection of gift shops [minus bank cards is by far the best way to do this].

At last it was time to board the plane and we located the seats. I sat down next to a portly Scot, whose wife was- yes- in the seat in front of him, and we chatted while the plane was readied for take-off. As it taxied to the runway Husband tapped my shoulder. There was an empty seat next to him! Once we were in the air I moved back next to him, freeing a seat so that the Scottish pair could sit together too. The plane was, otherwise, full and presumably the empty seat was a ‘no-show’.

We were served drinks and edible food. The cabin staff were affable and friendly. I was handed a second drink. We even slept.

Arrival home to the UK in late September heralded the start of a different, difficult kind of journey, involving many, many trips; one that I have not chosen, one that is ongoing but maybe… just maybe…the destination is drawing nearer and may even be in sight as 2024 begins.

Happy New Year to all followers and visitors. And may 2024 be filled with joyful discovery, adventurous travel and most of all, good health.

Novels by Jane Deans, author: The Conways at Earthsend, The Year of Familiar Strangers.

A Further Unravelling…

Posted on by
4

From the Fairfield Inn, Calgary, we’ve managed to get our first night’s campsite sorted, had a respectable meal at a nearby pub and we prepare to sleep. As I begin to drift off, a small, irritating cough sets in, interrupting my slumbers and making for a less than restful night.

In the morning we’ve a few hours left before we can collect our rental campervan from Cruise Canada, so having done our best to make tea in the plastic beakers, Husband suggests we try and get some mobile wifi working on our gadget, by visiting a nearby telecoms shop which is located in a central shopping mall. In France, we’ve become used to collecting a SIM card from Orange and it seem’s logical that we could have a similar arrangement, although by no means guaranteed.

We find the shopping mall and the store, where we draw a blank but are redirected, then redirected again to more telecoms stores. In the end we opt for a local SIM card in my phone, as nobody is able to get our gadget working. We return to the hotel where we pack up and order a taxi to the rental depot.

By the time we arrive at Cruise Canada I’ve begun to feel a little lethargic and under par. The depot is closed, presumably for lunch and we settle to wait on a bench facing the various vans and motorhomes, along with a German couple with whom we share plans. They have very wisely reserved their pitches from home, a strategy I now wish we’d adopted!

At last the place opens and soon we’re wading through pages of paperwork and agreements before being taken to ‘our’ van. We get a peremptory look along with stern warnings regarding emptying and cleaning prior to return, then we’re directed to fetch our bedding packs from an adjoining store. Other than this, it’s left to us. Husband climbs into the driving seat to have a go- he can take the vehicle for a couple of circuits of the car park, but it’s easier said than done. ‘I thought you said you had your own camper’, the weary woman showing us observes. But this, this campervan is nothing like ours, as we are increasingly to discover…

I watch as Husband lurches the vehicle around the car park, then I get in and we exit the depot in search of a supermarket. It’s immediately clear that the van cannot/will not/does not drive in a straight line, rather swerves in unnerving lunges, making steering hard work. There are, allegedly, supermarkets around here…but where, exactly? We take a few turns and then backtrack a bit, my heart in my mouth as Husband juggles the idiosyncracies of the van, the unfamiliar roads and the traffic. Yikes!

On our way back down the road I do spot a grocery store, ‘Hello Fresh!’ and we pull in and park, much to my relief. Inside we pick up as much useful shopping as we can, stow it and make our way towards what is, hopefully, ‘Highway 1’. By some miracle we get on to it and begin to exit Calgary, back on the road we came by bus- and yes- I’m relieved to spot the Olympic Ski jump, now on the left as we go out of town.

Now to locate the camp site. It should be easy enough, shouldn’t it?

I have the location of the site on my phone, yes, but we’re unused to the distances of this vast country. Coupled with the wobbly nature of the van it leads to us overshooting our turn-off by quite a bit, as we discover when we stop at the First Nations’ casino and gas station to ask where on Earth the site is.

This results in a long trek back along the highway, then a meandering journey into the wilderness. This time I’m more trustful of my phone’s navigation and we follow the tiny dot, turning where indicated, then, EUREKA! We reach the site’s entrance and drive up a winding track, then we have, in fact, arrived. There’s a car park by a store, which also serves as reception where we check in. Phew! We’re also able to supplement the lamentable equipment in our household ‘kit’, which lacks, amongst other items, a kettle and a coffee pot.

The pitch we’ve been allocated is accessed by another long, winding lane; the site being arranged in ‘loops’ off the lane. It is massive, but we get there and park up in a kind of wooded cul-de-sac, where we are almost, but not quite, alone…

Like any typical British adult, I’m gagging for a cup of tea, so I fill a saucepan [as I said, no kettle] and attemp to ignite the gas ring…which solidly refuses to comply…Hmmm…

To find novels by Jane Deans, Grace’s alter ego, search Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads and other book sites. The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend are widely available. Visit my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063988575981

On to Calgary

Posted on by
2

We’ve had two nights in Banff and we must now go and fetch our vehicle for the next ten days, which means a trip to Calgary, a couple of hours away. In order to do this we need to pack up and get to Banff bus station, where we’ll be getting ‘Brewsters Shuttle’. The bus station is smallish but it’s clear which bay we’ll need to wait at. When the bus pulls in we meet our driver, ‘Pat’ who is both jocular and informative. We’re armed with lunch from the town deli, which we’re intending to eat en route, since the journey will be over lunchtime.

The bus exits Banff and sets off along Highway 1. This is a major route, the ‘trans-Canada highway’ across all of Canada from West to East, 651 miles. Pat, the driver knows a lot about many subjects, especially geology and seems to be an expert on the local mountains. Something that astonishes me is that once we’re away from the mountains- which doesn’t take all that long, the terrain is all prairie right up to the lakes on the other side of the country. But we’re not going that far, and before long we’re entering the outskirts of Calgary, with the winter Olympic ski jump tower visible on the right. This is to prove helpful in our efforts to navigate to and from Calgary!

As we get towards the centre, Pat begins dropping passengers off at various points, mostly hotels, but he is not able to drop us at ours, the ‘Fairfield Inn’, owing to the fact that there is no access for the bus under the railway line. We get off at the Fairmont, [another Fairmont!] and must find out way to the Fairfield- which feels confusing, but after asking and using my phone we set off in the direction of the Fairfield Inn. Central Calgary looks unremarkable at this point- high rise architecture but without the pizzazz and style of Vancouver.

Trundling our cases, we trudge to the hotel, which is supposed to be part of the Marriott chain, although I’d have expected something a little more upmarket, since it’s on a side street and decidedly lacklustre. Our room is clean but not large. The fixtures and fittings are cheap and nasty and the coffee cups are plastic single-use. It is adequate, though not as good as a Premier Inn in the UK, which is bog standard for hotels. Ho Hum.

But there is internet, which is vital for us this evening, because we must reserve a camping pitch for tomorrow night and we don’t have any resources except Google to find one, whcih must not be too far to reach in an afternoon. We won’t be able to collect the van until then.

We settle to the task, then it begins to become clear that we’d overestimated the simplicity of it. We can find sites, but they are seriously busy! Not at all the ‘low season’ empty state we’d been led to believe. Most are full. It’s a blow. What on Earth are we going to do?

I search and search, then find a site- ‘Macleans’ somewhere between Calgary and Banff, which we’d been planning to return to. There are pitches, albeit without electricity, and it’s vast, but I’m not able to reserve until I’ve set up an account, which proves impossible. In desperation I phone up- and beg the woman on the end of the line to stay with me until i’ve set up an account…and…phew! I get a pitch! Now for the next hurdle… and things become trickier than ever…

Grace is the alter ego of novelist and short story writer, Jane Deans. To date I have two published novels to my name: The Conways at Earthsend [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Conways-at-Earthsend-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B08VNQT5YC/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2ZHXO7687MYXE&keywords=the+conways+at+earthsend&qid=1673350649&sprefix=the+conways+at+earthsend%2Caps%2C79&sr=8-1 and The Year of Familiar Strangers [https://www.amazon.co.uk/Year-Familiar-Strangers-Jane-Deans-ebook/dp/B00EWNXIFA/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2EQHJGCF8DSSL&keywords=The+year+of+familiar+strangers&qid=1673350789&sprefix=the+year+of+familiar+strangers%2Caps%2C82&sr=8-1 Visit my writer Facebook page [https://www.facebook.com/search/top?q=jane%20deans%2C%20novellist%2C%20short%20fiction%20and%20blog or my website: https://www.janedeans.com/