Tag Archives: Canada

Hopeful Travels

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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.

All Over Bar the Flying

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We’d stopped briefly at the station for Lake Louise when we were on the Rocky Mountaineer, which seems like months ago now, so eventful have our subsequent days been. Now we’re back to explore it. Husband’s snotty ailment, Covid or not, has subsided to a degree that he’s feeling substantially better- no doubt aided by the excellent bakery products from Laggans- a happy discovery.

It’s time to leave the Post Hotel and go back to Banff for our last couple of nights. But first we’ll go and look at the lake, of course, because that’s why we’re here. Finding it becomes a little confusing though, in spite of our being right in the heart of Lake Louise, the community. Once we’re on the the right track we must negotiate the car parks; and they’re busy. On first sight it looks impossible, but by driving round and up we’re directed to a campervan and motorhome area and we do get a space. It’s all quite regimented and organised. Having bought our ticket, we walk down towards the lakeside. It’s sunny but quite chilly. The weather has been becoming much cooler since we arrived to Vancouver three weeks ago [was it only three weeks?] and layered clothing is necessary.

At the lakeside there are crowds of visitors, so many that here at the start of the path it’s impossible to see or take a photo without someone in it. Most are intent on selfies- the scourge of our age. I’ve written before about the hordes of tourists who love to pout, thrust and drape themselves over iconic sights so that nobody else gets a look, and so it is here. The lakeside beach is covered in stones and small boulders and when I see selfie-takers stumbling over them or balancing precariously for a photo, it is my greatest hope that they’ll tumble into the [undoubtedly freezing], blue waters of the lake. But it doesn’t happen.

We walk on round, past the lake chateau, now yet another Fairmont hotel, although it is vast and picturesque in its setting. The further we go, the thinner the crowd becomes until we’re able to walk unimpeded, the view back towards the Lake Louise Chateau is even better and photography is an option.

Finally we turn back, and back to the van, where we take advantage of the parking spot and have some lunch. From here, it’s not too far to journey on back to Banff for our third and final visit, returning to Tunnel Mountain campsite for our last couple of days. The last day or two of an epic trip place you in a strange limbo. The weather has become decidedly autumnal, the nights cold and the mornings chilly. We’re unwilling to get more groceries in at this stage, instead opting to eke out what we have. But it’s two nights- and what we have does not lend itself to two meals. We also have a number of items we’ve bought to augment the kitchen ‘kit’ we’d hired [which had been lacking several, vital components]. I’m not going to be donating them to the van hire company!

While we’ve had two good looks at Banff already, we decide to spend a bit more time there rather than on the site, and take the shuttle bus to town for our last day. There’s very little left to see, but there’s a pretty park, where the trees are showing some lovely autumn colour and a few streets we hadn’t walked before. After a late afternoon beer we decide to call it a day.

We still have to clean and sort the campervan. There’s a ‘housekeeping’ charge for vans returned in a grubby condition, although I’d have cleaned it anyway. My solution to the surplus items- including the unused bear-spray- is to take everything to the camp kitchen/washing up place and invite others to take what they would like.

A short wander around the environs of the site has revealed a lucky find in the shape of a hostel with a small restaurant offering an evening meal menu as well as beers, meaning that our last evening is catered for.

All that’s left to do is to get the van back to the depot in Calgary tomorrow before midday…

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

The Road to Lake Louise

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We leave our Jasper campsite and set off back along the route we came on- [there’s not a lot of choices, route-wise!]. We are armed with a detailed, illustrated guide book we found in the tourist office in Banff, which has been a lot more useful than the redundant Bear-spray we were encouraged to buy!

For our return journey, Husband is now extremely sneezy and sniffy, but we’ll be stopping at sights along the way, now that we know where we’re going. There are plenty of scenic lakes with mountainous backdrops, some with interesting back stories. But by far the most dramatic and thrilling sight we detour to is Athabasca Falls. There’s good parking and it’s not too far to walk along the wooded path, then we’re at a footbridge and the waterfall is stunning, roaring and gushing down underneath the bridge and continuing down into a deep, narrow chasm. There’s something thrilling and satisfying about dramatic waterfalls- especially when so many famous and historic ones have dwindled to trickles [as in Yosemite National Park in the US].

Then there’s Bow Lake, a beautiful place with an attractive, log-built, lakeside lodge [‘The Lodge’], it’s red roof setting off the cool colours of the surrounding mountains and azure blue of the water. We’re lucky that it’s quiet- we almost have the place to ourselves!

At last we’re approaching Lake Louise and must find our way to the hotel we’ve booked, the Post Hotel. Although Lake Louise itself is tiny, existing only for tourism and consisting mainly of hotels, we’re confused over the location, backtracking up and down the road a couple of times until we spot the narrow driveway that leads to it. First impressions are good as we drive into the car park. It’s a lodge-like building, timber, with red roof and green paintwork giving it a Christmassy look.

We park and check in, the only campervan in the car park! The room is large, comfortable and cosy and there’s a balcony- although it overlooks the car park! The train rumbles past just beyond the fringe of pines. We’re here for two nights, having failed to get a pitch on a Lake Louise site, but Husband, who is feeling poorly now, will be able to sleep comfortably. There’s a slight snag in that there’s no tea or coffee making facility in the room but I figure I can go out in the morning and make tea in our van then bring it back in the time-honoured method we developed in Vancouver [which seems a long time ago] of using a water bottle as a Thermos.

I leave Husband dozing and go out for a wander. I cross the hotel car park and a footbridge across a river, then climb a slope and I’m in a small shopping precinct. There are a few gift shops and a grocery store, but best of all there’s a magnificent bakery-cafe selling pastries, cakes, bread, coffee, sandwiches and…pies! Not only pies, but hot pies! There’s a substantial queue but it’s worth the wait and I’m thrilled to be able to return to a poorly Husband bearing hot, comforting treats.

As expected, he perks up at the very sniff of them…

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

Good Spirits

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By the time you read this post it will be Christmas Eve 2023 and by the time we go to Spirit Lake, near Jasper, Canada, our epic trip will be in its latter stages. We’ve booked a boat trip on the lake. As we queue to have our tickets scanned I feel we couldn’t have chosen a better day, since there’s not a cloud in the sky, the water of the lake is sparkling and the sun is warm.

The boat fills up quickly and we’re in the last seat at the back, which is a good thing, bearing in mind that I’ve had what is almost certainly Covid and we’re not sure whether Husband will succumb or not. In any case, once we’re out on the water there’s a strong, fresh breeze, meaning that the airflow is brisk!

We’re subject to the inevitable commentary, from a fresh faced young woman who clearly feels her next step will be featuring in a stand-up routine. Some of the info is interesting, but the scenery is the star of the show, the colour of the water a vibrant green-blue in contrast to the stark peaks of the surrounding mountains as we leave behind the jetty and the quaint boathouse to pass kayaks and canoes.

The boat motors through a narrower channel and around a bend and we’re in the real, spiritual part of the lake- or at least- the part that is spiritual for the First Nations. There’s a tiny island topped with a few trees that is sacred for them and although it’s possible to walk on to it we are not to. The boat pulls in for us to enjoy the view, which is stunning. While there are no bears of any description, there is, on the beach, a huge, colourful butterfly. It eludes my lens frustratingly but I snap it at last. We only have around fifteen minutes or so; I’m guessing this is down to the long queues back at the jetty, then we pile on board and head back.

After a coffee on the sunny decking of the cafe we walk back up to the van and take the winding road back to Jasper and our site.

We’re due to leave in the morning, although I’m alarmed when Husband begins to cough and sneeze as if he’s getting a very heavy head cold. We are wanting to go back to Banff via Lake Louise but have drawn a blank on finding a pitch in one of the sites there. The situation is critical but in desperation we opt for the only solution: We’ll need to get a hotel room for a couple of nights. There are hotels at Lake Louise but they are eye-wateringly expensive. Faced with this, plus Husband’s deteriorating condition we’ve no choice but to reserve a room- at the cheapest hotel [though it’s still dear]. At least Husband can confine himself to the room for a night or so until he feels better.

Having consulted our detailed guide book of the route, we start back with the aim of stopping off at some must-sees on the way to Lake Louise. Husband, by now, has a streaming nose but otherwise can cope- and there’s still so much to take in…

Alter ego, Jane Deans has written two novels: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend, both available from Amazon .

On the Way to Spirit Lake

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Before driving to Spirit Lake we need to refuel the campervan. We’ve done this once, en route from Calgary to Banff, when we’d stopped at the service station where we should have turned off to go to MaCleans campsite on our first van day. I’d forgotten that to put fuel in your vehicle [here, as in the USA] you must first go to the counter and pay for it. This confuses me. Here in the UK, we pay for fuel after putting it in, otherwise, how are you supposed to know how much you want? On this previous occasion, when faced with the question, I’d said ‘I don’t know’, to which the checkout lady had suggested $100, much to my relief.

We noticed a couple of gas stations from the bus when we came into Jasper yesterday. We pull into one. This time we’d like to fill the van without having to say how much we are buying, but the self-service machine doesn’t explain how to do it. Lucky for us, the man at the pump in front is only too pleased to help us out. This is another occasion when we’ve been assisted by kindly Canadians- who we’ve found to be amenable and friendly wherever we go.

Then we’re off through Jasper, turning off and across a beautiful, rustic bridge and on to a winding road into the wilds. En route we round vast lakes and through majestic forests, but sometimes we’re confronted by huge swathes of burnt forest and land. It’s an upsetting sight and a sobering reminder of the devastation the summer wildfires have wrought.

We’re motoring along through a wooded area when something wonderful happens. We’re flagged down by a ranger’s vehicle a couple of cars ahead because a moose is standing in the middle of the road with her calf. We are all halted and have a ringside seat as the moose poses, unconcerned next to the ranger’s car and her calf scampers backwards and forwards across the road. Here, where we live in the UK, next to the New Forest national park we are used to waiting for the wild ponies to shift from their middle-of-the-road positions and often think they do it deliberately, so perhaps this moose is the same: ‘This is my home and you can wait!’ We are delighted to wait as long as she wishes.

After a while the calf runs off up the steep side of the road and the cow saunters slowly after. Then they are gone.Eureka! Now I believe there are moose here. But I still think the bears are a marketing ploy and that none live here at all- except perhaps in zoos. And we were convinced to buy a ‘bear spray’ by the lady in the tourist office, too! What a con!

Having lunched in a roadside pull-off by a lake, we arrive to our destination. There are several car parks but it’s busy and we need to go to the furthest to find a space, before walking down to the lakeside where there are shops, cafes and queues for boats. The early morning frost has given way to bright blue skies and sunshine, which bodes well for photos. The first look at Spirit Lake is a reminder of why it’s so often used in travel and holiday marketing brochures. It is simply beautiful…

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

The Backwoods

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The camp site just outside Jasper is wooded, with cleared areas for pitches. It seems bizarre to me that so many people have opted for the rustic, non-electric-hook-up, no-hard-standing pitches and all they desire is a fire pit and a pile of wood. As long as fires are lit using the braziers provided anyone is at liberty to toast themselves outside by a roaring fire, which appears to be the favourite activity here. If more wood is required there is a pile of it waiting to be chopped and axes for kindling. You have to trust that there are no raving, lunatic axe-wielding serial killers among the camping community. Given that the summer wildfires were so devastating it’s a surprise to find that outside burning is not only allowed, but encouraged.

A fair number of our fellow campers are using tiny tents, too, so, given that the night-time temperatures are quite low they are a tough bunch!

Since our arrival I’ve slumped in the passenger seat of our van and had a snooze. When I wake something feels different. I’m less ‘floaty’. I feel a bit better. Yes- I’m still coughing, but it’s a definite improvement. I wander round to a shower facility and it’s surprisingly good for such a rustic site.

We’ve continued to use the table/bed [me] and a mattress on the floor [Husband], for sleeping. During the night I wake to the sight of Husband, struggling to get up and disorientated. I lever him upright. He’s burning hot. It’s clear he’s succumbed to the dreaded Covid, as I did. Horrors! straight away I administer Paracetamol and swap beds; now he has the table/bed and I have the floor, which is not conducive to cosy slumber. By the morning though, he has rallied and feels ok for now.

On a recce of the site, Husband has spotted a different area altogether, purpose built for motorhomes and campervans. It’s hard standing and has hook-up, as well as its own shower facilities. Better still- and bizarrely- the hard standing pitches are cheaper than the rest of the site. There is one, spare spot- which we move to, gratefully. From our new position we can see the Jasper Skytram, a glistening dot travelling up and down the mountain. But there are still no bears…not one, single distant, furry form…anywhere.

The shuttle bus stops a few yards from our van, with hardly anyone on board so we hop on and go to have a look at the town. The first thing I notice is the railway tracks, a station and a couple of huge, historic engines displayed along the roadside. We get off at what seems like the main street, although it’s soon clear that Jasper, though cute and in a stunning location, is a tiny town. What there is is also set up almost entirely for tourists, the stores selling mainly outdoor gear for walking, climbing, hiking, skiing and other pursuits, with a few gift shops thrown in, one being ‘Bearbury, which would be more amusing if there were bears…

But there is a visitor centre where we book a visit to ‘Spirit Lake’ for next day, Husband going in to reserve it while I wait outside as I’m still coughing. After a search we do find a small supermarket, tucked away between the tourist shops.

Then it’s back to site on the bus. The night is cold and we’re glad of the heater, although our neighbours are all sitting outside by their blazing log fires, knocking back wine.

In the morning when I step outside there’s a layer of frost over everything! Frost in September! This is not something we are used to in the UK. It does, however herald a blue sky and a bright, sunny day, so we anchor all loose items in the van and set out towards Jasper for our day trip to Spirit Lake.

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

Tunnel Mountain and the Lonely Road to Jasper

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It’s a relief to get into Tunnel Mountain campsite at Banff, another vast site, but properly in the mountains, in a beautiful setting. It’s popular and we need to queue to check in and pay our national park fees. Then we’re off around to our pitch, this time with electric hook-up. There are also clean, warm shower blocks and there’s a free shuttle bus to the town. It’s all good- except that I’m feeling worse than ever, with cold symptoms joing the fever and cough I’ve picked up, even if I’ve stopped feeling like I’ve swallowed a razor blade. A nasty, niggling suspicion creeps in; could this be the rampant new Covid variant that’s running riot across Canada? Then I remember; someone in a seat near us on the Rocky Mountaineer train was sneezing and spluttering for the two days. Hmmm…

If I have the Covid variant there’s nothing much to be done. We’re not able to access tests and we’re pretty isolated as it is. So far, Husband has shown no signs of succumbing, so he’ll be ok to enter shops etc. Retiring to bed isn’t an option, either. I decide to adopt the action we were advised to use in Iceland and stay outside away from others during the day.

But there are beautiful views from our pitch and the wildlife is lovely, with nonchalant deer roaming and tiny, cheeky red squirrels scampering in the pines. It’s also warm and sunny enough to sit outside, which is what I do.

We’ve done much better with the bookings now and will be returning here after our road trip. The next morning we’re up and dealing with the housekeeping- emptying and filling- like pros, now we know how to do it all.

We’re driving on up to Jasper, where again we have a pitch on a site. At the start of the drive, while we’re on the dual carriageway the weather looks threatening and there’s some rain, but then we find our turning without much trouble and the sun reappears. As we wend our way towards Jasper National Park the terrain becomes wilder and it feels remote. There are stretches where signs warn us there’s no phone signal and between Banff and Jasper there’s only one gas station, so it’s advisable to be stocked up on everything. In this direction there are few places to pull in and stop, although the other side seems better served and it takes some time to find a lunch stop.

It feels a long drive, however the notion of distance is different for us, coming from the UK, where we’re no more than a day’s drive from most places and in reality, the loop we’ve opted to do is not vast. But the campervan is wayward, as I’ve described and I’m glad we didn’t attempt anything more lengthy.

We arrive at Saskatchewan Crossing, the one and only place for fuel and for a limited selection of foodstuffs between Banff and Jasper. It’s almost exactly halfway and busy but we get a space, overlooking the snowy mountains. It’s all bathed in sunshine and warm enough for poeple to be sitting outside with picnic lunches, one family feeding a small baby in the seats around a map pointing out the sights. A little further along is the stunning Athabasca Glacier, a frozen river splayed out against the mountainside and glistening in the sun. Opposite is a visitor centre where a purpose-built, red snow bus does tours, but we need to get to our destination so we press on. From here the road climbs and winds but it’s without incident and at last we’re nearing Jasper.

There are several sites here, outside the town but it’s easy to locate ours, just off the road and easy to check in. We find our pitch. There’s little here except for a wood pile, a fire pit, a table and bench and a cleared area to park. We’ve had to forego electricity to get the pitch.

There’s still some sun filtering through the windscreen. Husband goes off to explore the site, meanwhile I grab a pillow, slide down in my seat where the sun is warm and close my eyes…

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

Cold…and Hot

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During the evening of our first night in the campervan on MaCleans camp site I begin to feel hot, then hotter…and I’m burning up. We’ve managed to concoct a meal with the help of our neighbours, who donated us a spare lighter for our non-self-igniting hob. The high temperature I’m experiencing is certainly not to due the outside air, which is cold, although one thing that does function in the van is the heater, for which we are to be very glad! The water heater and the shower seem to work, thank goodness.

Our neighbours stay outside long after dark, sitting by the log fire. The sight of camping Canadians toasting themselves by fires becomes familiar and it’s clearly a favourite activity for them as it happens wherever we go.

It’s clear I’m incubating something, so I take some Paracetamol, which eases it, and we consider how we’ll cope with the sleeping arrangement. There are two mattresses [thin, hard and cold] above the driver cab, which we do not plan to use. We knew when we booked that the van would be designed this way and had taken an optimistic view that we would cope, but we’re not going to be clambering up and down from the lofty bed.

The benches either side of the table convert to a bed, however it doesn’t accommodate two. Hmm… Since I’m not 100%, Husband volunteers to sleep on one of the top mattresses in the aisle, where there’s just about room, so we make the beds and settle down. The sleeping arrangement is far from perfect, the floor position, in particular making for an uncomfortable night.

The next morning is cold, with watery sunlight through the tall pines and I get out and stand in a patch of it.

The next challenge is to get to grips with emptying and filling the van. We’ve seen the video and we know where to stop so after stowing everything we trundle around to the van station and join a queue. Once it’s our turn we pull up by the drain and pull out the hose. The system is not like our own, where we’re used to emptying a cartridge which slots out of the side. Here there is a hose- first for the toilet waste then secondly the grey water. We learn our first lesson: ensure the valve is switched to the correct outlet before undoing the cap-

In a horrific gush, the effluent from our toilet floods out across the tarmac, to the accompanying shouts of disgust from fellow campers. Yikes! Husband manages to switch- but not before we’ve caused a substantial mess, which I must then use the water hose to clear up. We’re mortified, but were not to know and will not make the same mistake again. The water filling, more straightforward, goes ok.

We’re off back to Banff, because Husband has managed to secure us a pitch on a site in the national park called Tunnel Mountain. Besides the pitch price we must also pay national park entry and stay, but it’s a profound relief to have somewhere to park up. It’s easy enough to get back onto the main highway by retracing our steps and we’re even getting used to the van wobbles, but we narrowly avoid a serious incident as we approach Banff. The road in this direction splits and we find ourselves in a lane leading to some ticket booths- the park entrance. Somehow we’ve missed the [one] lane which is just the continuation of the road. Husband begins to reverse the van and then, at the highway, he signals right…but NO…no, no, no, no, no!! We’re on the wrong side- facing the traffic!!

There’s a lot of flashing and hooting as we make a swift reverse back round the corner, crisis averted, then look for a way. We need to turn left and take the exit road then cross the highway via a bridge, a diversion we have to take twice before we spot the one lane that’s a continuation of the highway- the extreme right, beside the park booth lanes. But at last we make it…

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

A Further Unravelling…

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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

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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/