So this clunky year has finally gasped its last. Don’t want to boot it out the door but shoo, sayonara, s’what’s your hurry?
Saying good riddance doesn’t help, but I’m ready for a fresh new page, a newborn calendar, a clean slate. Yes. I hope it will be better than 2018 . . . or 2017.
Enough of that . . .
So ends the excitement of an excursion nearly a year-and-a-half old. I relived this trip in the sharing and feel letdown like you do when your vacation is over and it’s time to unpack and go back to regular life.
Thank you for taking the time to visit, read, and comment. My deepest apologies for not joining in the conversation. I have not been online regularly for numerous reasons. My focus in life has changed; I’m on the go and not often home as I had prior to going MIA. Again, I am overwhelmed, my finger in too many pies but life changes and we must adapt.
I have joined a writers’ group but have not produced anything new in over a year. I finally began a new piece I struggle writing at the 1350-word mark. I began about a week ago and am thrilled to pieces. Thought I’d lost my mind until now because I couldn’t sit still long enough nor think clearly to compose a coherent sentence.
The end of July, I had to let my cat Dickens go. One day he was fine and three days later, he was full of water. His heart was strong, so that wasn’t it. It could have been his liver or maybe cancer, the vet said. I recalled much later that he had started the sniffles again. The vet also said they could draw the water but it would come back. Dickens and I adopted each other January 24, 2015, when he was about a year and a half. I had no idea he had FIV and gum disease but we worked through that. Though Lady Gaga gave him a hard time, she’s still needy as heck and wanders around the house crying when not snoozing.
There have been many surprises and roadblocks in the past year-and-a-half. I still haven’t new glasses except for cheaters and can tolerate the laptop screen only for short sprints. I would like to read more, too. Sigh.
I’ve saved packets of day trips in reserve and as opportunity presents itself, I may post about them but make no promises. You are welcome to drop by anytime. I’ll leave a couple pies (will apple and lemon meringue do? maybe cherry?), cooling on the window sill and a hot pot of coffee if you have time for a drop.
Left this posting to the last minute and could not get into my site today. Ready to call Ghostbusters, I decided to log into WordPress like a stranger (or a first-timer) to find the login. It’s a long way around but it worked. Seems I’ve missed WP changes, too.
Thank you ALL, sincerely, for the camaraderie, laughs, and smiles over the past years. I miss my friends in the blogging community but haven’t the energy to return the favour at present. I hope to focus what time and effort I can muster to get back to writing and promise to visit when I can.
Happy Halloween everyone!
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
Time to leave this little piece of heaven. The sun leaned low and bright, too hot to wait outside for the arrival of our bus. Some people wore jackets. Why? (unless they ran out of space in their bags—a longshot?). I’m usually the lone chicken in the crowd who complains I’m cold.
The short bus arrived (also called a minibus). Mary and I, and one other female boarded. Goodbye, sensational Lake Louise; goodbye spectacular mountains. No, we weren’t done with them yet. They followed us all the way to Banff, the young lady’s stop.
Talk about luck. The original plan had been a direct transport from Lake Louise to Calgary airport. This stop was a huge bonus and not just a passing one. Banff is tiny—population under 250— about a third of the way to Calgary from Lake Louise. The driver dropped the woman off in front of her apartment. Yeah, I know. Imagine that. He had business to attend to, something about a package, and parked behind a mini-mall on the main street. He’d be back in about an hour. We had a crowded Tim Horton’s at our disposal, a gift shop, a large sitting area, a few businesses, and a substantial ladies’ washroom.
I’d heard stories of the mind-blowing mountains here and we aimed to explore. When would an opportunity like this come again? Brilliant and majestic mountains surrounded Kamloops, too, but these seemed closer.
Someone announced we were leaving. From nowhere, a handful of passengers boarded behind us, a few from the large sitting area inside the strip mall. The mountains disappeared into the horizon one by one. Once we passed the exit for Kananaski, I noticed how the landscape flattened into the level, unexciting fields, and grassland, less interesting landscape I’m used to. I’ll be the first one to confess I felt something had been snatched away from me—something that left a hole.
The traffic increased but no real congestion. As we grew closer, a couple signs for the airport popped up.
The airport was easy to maneuver, unlike the one in Toronto. I no longer remembered lunch or even breakfast. We disposed of our luggage and proceeded to check out the food situation such as it is in airports.
We had time to kill. The sun burned hot through the glass wall of windows in the waiting area. I huffed and puffed till I turned my chair around. It was heavy. Another passenger decided to redecorate as well. Though my iPad held a dense library of books, I wasn’t up to screen reading. If need be, there would be time enough on the plane. A snooze sounded enticing but not yet.
~ * ~
Next on October 26th – Rocky Mountaineer: What Now?
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
We called it a day after the late dinner around 9:00 pm. Ugh. I don’t like eating this late.
As always, I expected Mary’s suitcase to explode on mere eye contact. I had valuable space in mine; Mary negotiated I help her downsize her bulging case. How could I refuse? Five or ten pounds ended up in my luggage. What are sisters for?
What is it about travelling that I can’t wait to hit the breakfast buffet? I always overeat when on vacation. You’d think I’d be stuffed to the gills and push back. Maybe I was, but I figured might as well enjoy being served as opposed to serving, while the opportunity presented itself.
After breakfast, refreshed and fed, we explored what we could of Lake Louise and the Fairmont. This would be our only chance as our stay was only for one night. The proximity of the magnificent mountains so close to the hotel had me gobsmacked. How else can I explain my experience? I’ve seen pictures over time, but being there was another matter. Imagine a half-frozen lake, snow on the ground, mountains as a backdrop and dressed in jeans and tees, minus a jacket. The date: May 20, 2017. It boggles the mind. The day provided warm sunshine and balmy weather.
I have too many pictures to present here. These few might give you a taste of my giddy experience. First the famous Fairmont:
Breathtaking surroundings and heavenly backdrop to the Fairmont:
We enjoyed a last lunch after checking out. Nervous the luggage might be forgotten in the room and miss the bus, we first wandered to the registration desk and were directed to the area for the bus and luggage wicket. I relaxed when I saw our bags had indeed been transferred from our room. The fellow tagging our luggage laughed out loud when he saw me watch him eagle-eyed.
Just a few plagues telling visitors interesting facts:
With time to kill, I grabbed a comfy chair in the lobby and proceeded to finish my book. Can I share a secret? I’d borrowed a book from the cruise ship library but hadn’t finished it. No way can I leave a book without knowing the ending. My plan—a good one, I thought—was to leave it in the Fairmont Hotel lobby with a note to please return to the ship. With so many tours parading back and forth, I felt confident some good soul proceeding to the Rocky Mountaineer and Alaska Cruise tour would find the book, smile, and do the good deed. I wish I knew about the book’s journey.
An arm’s length from where I finished reading, I noticed a group mill around with garment bags slung over their shoulders. They disappeared and returned dressed in traditional costumes (I assume) for picture taking. I wanted to ask questions but did not wish to intrude. It wasn’t clear whether they were English conversant and I didn’t want to put anyone on the spot. Of course, Mary and I took advantage of this colourful photo opportunity. Curious, I looked around but could not discern a specific photographer for them.
Next on October 19th – Rocky Mountaineer: An Unexpected Bonanza
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
The room stuffy, we soon learned it had no air-conditioning. An overhead fan would have to do. But would it?
Mary decided to check out the pool before dinner. It was already close to 7:00 pm and I was adamant about not eating after 8:00. She planned to shower at the poor after a quick dip and promised to return by the time I got out of the shower.
Just my luck, nothing is simple when I expect it will be. I turned the shower lever but it wouldn’t budge. This way and that, I tugged. No luck. I was afraid to break something and walked away to have a think, then tried again. Nothing. The clock was ticking and I had to be ready when Mary returned. Swallowing my pride, I called the Front Desk for help.
It was pleasant, yet unnerving, to have someone call me by my surname, someone I hadn’t met or been introduced to. The young man on the line had a wonderful smile in his voice. I pictured brilliant, white teeth behind the smile. He promised to send someone up momentarily. Really? The hotel had 550 rooms. I did not expect to receive service momentarily in such a large hotel, but 10 to 15 minutes later, a maintenance guy knocked on the door. It might have been longer, but I was still impressed. One flick of the wrist and water gushed, the pressure amazing.
Duh. Who doesn’t know how to turn on a shower? Confused, I gaped and sputtered.” How’d you do that?”
He didn’t treat me like the idiot I felt. “Sometimes the seals are tight.”
Really? Why is it I had no trouble turning the shower back on after he left? Why weren’t the seals tight then?
I checked the time. Forget washing my hair. I changed and plugged in the curling iron instead. Mary returned. Already 8:00 pm, I was past ready to eat.
We wandered down to the lobby to check out a good place to ear. Unlike the Sheraton in Vancouver, we could eat at any of the seven restaurants in the hotel, only one of which accepted reservations up to seven days ahead.
We studied a menu in a glass case on the wall in the lobby. An attentive young man inquired if he might be of assistance and led us to a restaurant with a 30-minute wait. He pointed to another one at which he worked and had just finished his shift, positive he’d get us in. He did. We could not thank him enough for going over and above, especially at the end of his workday. I wished him a wonderful life and received the sweetest smile ever.
The service staff consisted of young women, a couple from Ontario. Our waitress originated in London, Ontario where my sister lives. What a small world.
Yikes, the prices on the menu. Glad we were not paying out-of-pocket, though we actually paid for our meals when we booked the trip. I chose the salmon. Mary inquired in such detail about the lobster Mac and Cheese, the waitress brought it instead of the salmon she later decided on. Our flatbread arrived but I thought it puny for the price. A throat-soothing tall glass of icy beer followed. Yum.
The waitress apologized and insisted on getting the changed order for Mary. She swept the dish off the table. Her fault, she said. Mary’s meal arrived in much less time than our original order.
Next on October 12th – Rocky Mountaineer: Gobsmacking Spaces
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
Someone left a disgusting yellow mess on the floor in the facilities. No bump on the tracks came to mind. Someone missed the bowl or had been in an awful hurry. I did not see the woman cleaner with her basket of supplies so I threw a handful of paper towels on the floor.
In our car, a ten-year-old boy travelled with his grandmother. He should have been in school this fine May day, but he proved to be a smart kid. His gran didn’t stop explaining things to him and he asked fantastic questions and gave well thought out answers. Amazing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he holidayed with her often, far and wide. Lucky fellow.
Cheese and wine service arrived. The chef arranged a ¼-inch thick slice of white cheddar on a 2-1/2-inch cracker, a piece of dried apple and a piece of dried apricot. The cart came through only once; the booze cart came by twice, before and after the cheese treats.
Many breathtaking mountains, too many views. Where does not stop taking pictures? Looking over the photos on my iPad, I wondered how I’d pick and choose which ones (of the clear ones) to keep. Trees, not towns surrounded us so I had no idea in what locations I took most of them. The majestic views both overwhelmed and oversaturated my brain. The mind-boggling mountains soon left me numb to their magnificence. I wonder if people living in the midst of these mountains begin to dismiss them over time. Do they ever lose their magic?
Pretty buildings announced our arrival at Lake Louise Station: quiet but exciting. Another bus emptied before ours. Two days on the train had been enough. Little had I known miles and miles of trees, mountains, other trains, and rivers could leave me cross-eyed and wonder-blind.
I’d seen pictures of the famous Lake Louise Fairmont, but seeing it in person was still an experience, especially the looming snow-capped mountains flanking the hotel. Wow. I could not breathe.
Once again, I was reassured to find our luggage had been removed from the previous hotel and like magic reappeared in our new one. It is worrisome and nerve-wracking wondering whether someone forgot bags somehow. So far, so good.
Next on October 5th: Rocky Mountaineer: Winding Up and Winding Down
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
A cute story:
We passed through a small town called Canoe. A Mrs. Diane Lund lives there in a lemon-colored house along the Rocky Mountaineer route. Each time a train passed, she stood outside on her front step to wave the train on.
The train people wondered how she knew when the Mountaineer came through because many freight trains also pass through daily. Turns out, her dog Cedar knew and barked its arrival. The lady joined her dog outside her front door.
~ * ~
We pulled over for a freight train. Minutes tick-tocked. Twenty minutes later (or less), it finally passed on a track I guesstimate around six feet away.
As the attendant handed out Rocky Mountaineer journals, we dared inquire about having to pay for dinner sans voucher the night before. Prepared, the young lady gave us a card with a number to call. I’m sure we paid a lot less (out of pocket) than what the voucher was worth. We’ll see.
Around 9:15 a.m., we passed through Sicamous (means squeezed in between, a First Nation’s word). By 9:30, the bar opened—an hour earlier than the previous morning. What? It’s not Sunday brunch (too early) nor is it Saturday; it’s vacation time! What the heck. I decided on a Caesar.
As we whooshed from Revelstoke to Field, the altitude rose 2500 feet. Trains travel year round here with plows out front, snow at times 40 to 50 feet deep.
Trains pass through a lot of forests and outside of towns. Some time ago, I had considered taking a train across Canada. I no longer believe I will. I hate being closed in and not free to roam. I’m bored. The narratives are too few by our rail car attendant. YouTube or National Geographic can give me a similar experience. I need to walk, touch, feel, and smell. Passing by is not good enough for me anymore.
Finally lunch: Spinach salad with a mustard dressing, cranberries, and julienned apples. Delicious. For the main, I chose pork (it came in two generous pieces) with roasted cauliflower, risotto and a log of squash. I could have licked my plate.
So many Kodak moments—too many to choose. After a while, I became overwhelmed and bug-eyed and their beauty knocked my breath away. How many pictures do I want or need? At times the train travelled too fast. Some of my best efforts produced flashes of unrecognizable digital smears instead of identifiable images of trees etc. Already, I was pictured out. Running from one side of the train to the other, begging ‘excuse me’s’, and avoiding bumping or stepping on other passengers knocked me for a loop.
The scenery changes from dense trees or sparse and thin ones; to charcoal mountains capped in glistening snow; to brown running lakes; to water rushing with ice crystals.
Someone hollered there was a swimming bear but I missed it due to the train’s speed.
Next on September 28 – Rocky Mountaineer: Mindboggling Views
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
The alarm on Mary’s cell woke us. After a long and restless night, I peeled myself off the sheets. Thank goodness, I had woken in the night and turned on the air conditioner. The room had cooled to a comfortable temperature. A couple minutes later, around 5:30 a.m., the hotel phone bleeped. We had not requested a wakeup, but I suppose due to the previous night’s blackout, staff did not want us to miss our bus.
We rushed through dressing and were out the door, our bags left for pickup inside our room as we had found them the day before. Complimentary coffee service waiting in the hotel lobby cheered disgruntled bleary-eyed early risers. The time: 6:00 a.m.
Our bus arrived. The tour split into two groups: one to Lake Louise, the other to Banff.
At Rocky the Mountaineer station, our driver backed in, parallel parking next to another bus already there. Within minutes, another bus arrived and did likewise beside us, and another and another. What syncopation. What timing. Such grace like a well-practiced ballet. A radio operator called out drivers one-by-one to line up beside the train. The buses followed one another in a Congo line, pulling up as close as they could to the adjoining railway car assigned to each tour group. The same staff from the previous day greeted our party with cheery smiles and enthusiastic voices as we ascended the steps inside. The atmosphere created was of old friends meeting again.
As promised, our gift voucher purchases from the previous day awaited on each passenger’s seat. My one-size-fits-all black silky sweater pleased me. With tax added, it cost 35 cents more than the voucher allowed. Being less than a dollar, this amount was waived.
The breakfast cart arrived with cranberry and apple juice cocktails. The cranberry juice gave the apple juice a rosé hue; the apple flavour reigned. Parfaits were also available instead. Next came fruit salad and a decadent croissant, jam, and butter. Following this, the chef served a combination of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns with a smattering of corn for colour, and three roasted button mushrooms from his cart. Divine. No toast in sight, but I did not miss it.
After breakfast, an attendant collected money for purchases and any returns.
Due to the blackout at the hotel the night before, the train manager announced each passenger would be gifted a trip journal for the inconvenience. I expected a gratuitous knockoff notebook. Wrong. The padded navy cover might be moleskin. Made in Italy, on the back, there is a large B with Pierre Belvedere’s name. The front shows off Rocky Mountaineer brand insignia and their name. I guesstimate about 240 or so lovely pages.
~ * ~
Why such a fuss over the journal? I l.o.v.e. notebooks. You wouldn’t believe my stash. That’s a whole other post.
~ * ~
Next on September 21 – Rocky Mountaineer: Freights Trains and Mountains
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
My first photo clicks at the beginning of our walk about town are the following. Is there anything more Canadian than CBC Radio?
Most cars on the street were parked; pedestrians few. The traffic was slow and the roads not busy, but we did bump into other travellers from our tour group with the same thoughts of exploration until the lights came back on at our end of town. Our dinner vouchers for The Noble Pig Brewhouse next door to our hotel were useless until someone figured out the electricity situation.
I’m not sure why I was surprised at not seeing any jewelry stores. Kamloops appeared chock-full of restaurants, though. One drew our attention like a magnet. A messy line-up of waiting patrons mobbed the entrance and sidewalk in an enthusiastic party atmosphere. We managed to wedge our way inside through the crowd since we had time to kill. The predicted wait time for seating did not appeal but the celebratory atmosphere did. Not especially ready to eat, we fought our way outside again.
We walked and walked peering inside restaurants till my feet complained and moseyed back to our hotel. The Nobel Pig was still dark. Dim emergency lights flickered in the hotel lobby and somehow the registration desk computer worked. Frustrated by the inconvenience, Mary and I decided to hit the sidewalk again with the hope some restaurant with electricity would have room for us two. I needed to sit to rest my aching feet.
What appeared a tiny restaurant with no lineup turned out to be much larger once inside. The menu to our liking, we settled on the Dorian Greek House and almost immediately, a server seated us. I ordered Greek Salad, as had Mary but hers with the addition of Spanakopita. The orders were so generous, we should have ordered one and shared. How my tummy swelled.
Emergency lights only were on at the hotel. I ached for a relaxing foot massage and a good book. A gentleman of 80+ insisted on talking to the tour company to complain about having to pay for dinner. He made a point of making it known he was Doctor so-and-so, yadda-yadda-yadda. He would not be mollified no matter what the staff tried. Cut off from the first call they put through, a staff member redialed for him again and someone brought him a chair.
Too much drama. We headed up the stairs to our semi-dark room at 8:00 p.m. Without thinking, Mary flicked on the bathroom light switch on our way inside and surprise, surprise, we had light. Huh. I tried a lamp and the TV. Our world sank back into darkness again.
Daylight still shone outside but with not enough to read. I’d had it. I changed for bed but tossed and turned for ages. The room temperature had risen, the air heavy and muggy. Mary soon threw in the towel, too. I woke several times due to the humidity. Short of 11:00, a bleep announced power’s return but noting the time I drifted back to sleep. The next time I woke, the bathroom light was on. I scrambled to turn on the air conditioner.
~*~
Next on September 14 – Rocky Mountaineer: On the Rails Again
© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
I have to tell you, the washroom on this train was huge like a hotel room and seemed to be checked after each use. The end of the paper roll was always folded to a point. Where is this invisible attendant? Only once had I come upon a splattered counter—and well, the floor.
An important note about the windows on the Rocky Mountaineer: some wrap around the roof so you have a 360-degree view of your surroundings. My travel agent advised this is wonderful in pictures and a great idea, but the reality is the happy sun loves heating glass, plus consider the glare you get. Sunglasses anyone? A solid strip of roof cover still gives the benefit of ample views through the extra-large not quite wrap around windows.
Around 6:00 pm, the coach barreled toward our destination: the Thompson Hotel. The air had a strange people scent and tush-numbed seniors quietened as they peered out their windows. Civilization at long last or so it seemed.
We could not back up as around 20 buses idled ahead of us and we were stuck or so our driver told the office over the crackling radio. Change of plans: he inched out around them anyway.
In the meantime, a couple announcements to keep us informed:
Our third-floor, decent-sized warm and stuffy room had a 70s look about it: two double beds, a desk and a 32-inch console TV. When turned on, the air-conditioner rattled a complaining tune, I almost turned it off but the room needed cooling. Always worried about my luggage, it awaited our arrival just inside the door when we burst through the door amazed it had arrived quickly before we had.
Then, the lights went out.
What? What happened?
You have not lived till you’ve floundered down three flights of stairs in near dark (still daylight outside but coal black inside), shuffling down strange halls against strange walls in a strange hotel. If you grab a stair rail, toe guessing your way down three flights of unfamiliar stairs is not too bad, if you don’t fall.
We made it!
In the lobby, many of our tour group milled around the registration desk. The young staff assured all present the situation would be resolved shortly. No reason for the blackout was available even to them. The hotel computer did not work either, but thank goodness it was still light outside though emergency lights did flicker on but weren’t much help.
A tour representative from Rocky Mountaineer arrived to sort out the problem and assure the guests. Mary and I decided to walk off the overeating we had indulged in all day thus far and check out this Kamloops town.
~ * ~
Next on September 7th – Rocky Mountaineer: Kamloops Scoops
.© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
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