This is Olympic Park in Calgary, the first of two Olympic parks I’d visit on the journey. It’s mostly here because none of the photos I took of preparations for Stampede came out well. Oops. Just imagine some hay on the ground and people in cowboy hats. But while I was here, I tried to remember watching Katarina Witt on TV while I was babysitting at my weekly gig. I wonder what happened to her. The kid I used to babysit for, that is.

That’s the Calgary Tower in the background.

And this is downtown Regina, specifically, “the Twin Towers.” I know, because they were on the sign as we entered the city on the bus. I also visited a sweet museum there and chatted with a Jewish docent about the Jewish community of Regina. You can’t see the museum or her, but they’re down the street. So is the mall where they sold poutine from a place called “New York Fries.” Indeed.

(I’m skipping the whole train trip and saving it for another post. Too many good photos! But this is where it would be sequentially.)

Hey, it’s Olympic Park #2! remember when they were lighting this in Vancouver and one person’s section wouldn’t light? I loved those Olympics. The little Roots caps and whatnot…. by the way, Roots is an overpriced store and I couldn’t afford even their sale-priced items. Boo!

It was grey almost every day I was in Vancouver. But it’s OK, I hear that happens in the Northwest from time to time.

This was where I hung a left and went to Portland, or as I like to call it, Hippietown, USA. They had fabulous public transportation and no sales tax. Other than that, it wasn’t really my kind of place. Here are a gaggle of representative youth of Portland. Yes, that’s a cat sitting on that guy’s head (click to enlarge). He was more a hipster than a hippie; you can tell because even with the cat, he had the neatest hair of the bunch.

And there you have it! It was really an awesome trip and this was just 3% of it. Please check out Post #2 and Post #3 for more vacation scenery. I, of course, will be heading out to Canadian Fries for a bagel and lox.

Filter – Take A Picture

Ooooooh.


Aaaaaah.


Ohhhhhh.


This is our train when we stopped in a town called Blue River. The main store was the size of my living room but still had a surprisingly large assortment of Ziploc containers. Good to know that I’d still be able to store my leftovers if I lived up there.


I never did get a picture of my adorable compartment but this was the view from my own little window on the last evening just before the light was all gone and I reluctantly pulled the bed out of the wall and went to sleep.

~sigh~

Led Zeppelin – Misty Mountain Hop

These are Canada Geese in Saskatchewan. I think they were the ones who brought down that plane into the Hudson. I gave them a stern warning, but let them go.

This bird wanted the remainder of my lunch on the steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery. A few seconds later he gave it a try and found it lacking. I cleaned up the trash and moved on.

These geese (ducks?) were in Stanley Park in Vancouver. There was a lyric in a song I was listening to about things being lined up, so this cracked me up. Sadly, that song is long gone from my memory, so you may find it less hilarious. Still delightful, though.

Well, that’s the end of our ornithological journey. Join me next week when I show you the pigeons I spray water at on my fire escape.

The Cure – Where The Birds Always Sing

Oh right, also, I took that vacation to stare vacantly at sheep because I was at a crossroads in my life and I needed a few moments to sort it all out. The sheep and the sea beyond them were just a pleasant target for my eyeballs. My company had just been purchased, all my friends had been laid off, but somehow I had survived to get promoted to the next phase of my career. As Kylie Minogue would say, I was so lucky… lucky, lucky, lucky. But also, as Led Zeppelin, or rather Jake Holmes, would say, dazed and confused. Was I supposed to be happy or sad? Was I ready for a job where I’d have to make decisions rather than carry out other people’s decisions? Just why did they paint those sheep with streaks of fluorescent color? I never came to any conclusions, but just taking a couple of days to stare at sheep was really helpful. I came back feeling somewhat more ready and moved from the cubicle at Gutted Records to the office at Up & Coming Records a few days later.

Here is a helpful illustration to tell you what I was looking at. The sheep were afraid of the camera.

I did not take this picture, thanks for your understanding.

I never really thought of this vacation that way, more as a reward for hard work and a chance to relax and, frankly, the normal thing one does when one hasn’t had a vacation in three years and now finally have a job and the means to pay for one. It was somewhere around the seawall in Stanley Park, Vancouver that it all came to me. I should explain that Stanley Park is like Central Park in that it’s the place in the city for urbanites to experience nature and jog without worrying about cars. But bigger and wilder and with better views of mountains and sea. You have probably ascertained that I like mountains and sea.

I turned on my iPod and I don’t know what possessed me, but I had this urge to listen to Depeche Mode’s “Everything Counts,” maybe because it was stuck in my head or something. A few songs later on my “every DM song in order” playlist came the start of Some Great Reward with its sample of Blasphemous Rumours (I think.. I’ve always suspected) breaking into “Something To Do.” And then suddenly I was me in a summer 25 years before, sitting on the bus at camp, waiting to head out to some activity. I actually remember hitting the tactile play button and starting the tape as we pulled away. That was me, you see, always preferring to stare out the window with a walkman rather than talk to anyone. And in some ways, exactly 25 years after that summer where I first acquired Some Great Reward (my dubbing it from a friend then has probably been made up for by the 3 or 4 copies I’ve purchased since), I am still that person. But in lots of other ways, I could never have imagined the me I am now stopped at the station between one career and another. 1986 was such a big year in my life, it’s hard to believe it was a quarter century ago. I’m not sure I could have predicted that 2011 would be just as pivotal (the magic fortune ball is just for show, it has to be admitted). As the sheep would say, life is odd.

Then I proceeded to mis-read the map and be forced to walk eight miles all the way around the park and then some. Oops.

Here’s what I was looking at around the time of my revelation. You can see the seawall on the bottom left. Not pictured: my panic when I realized the seawall diverged from the inner pathway with a large cliff between them.

Spoiler: I made it out alive but have rarely been that tired in all my life.

Coming soon, some more pictures and then I guess we’ll return to posts about videos I came across on the Internet or what have you. This year also marks twenty years since my favorite album of all time was released. More on that some other day, too. Maybe in October closer to its anniversary.

The girl in the song is actually sixteen, but I wasn’t. Also, she commits suicide. But anyway, from the classic album, Some Great Reward, title comes from:
Depeche Mode – Blasphemous Rumours

I know! I know! Only $11.95. Here’s the front view.

I can’t believe I carried a box set of books home, but I did. Also, two books that I didn’t have from Norma Fox Mazer. So.excited.

BTW, I already have a copy of AYTG? IMM so I may give away my other one, except it’s from my childhood and sentimentally reminds me of how baffled I was by the concept of a belt being involved with feminine hygiene. This is what happens when you read books which are already out of date by the time you hit puberty. But remember when I had some kind of attention span and inhaled books rather than blog posts and tweets? Good times!

Anyhoo, in other news, I’m home! I’ll be sharing last thoughts on the trip once I catch up on some sleep and other things that need to be done when you’ve been away for two weeks and left things like “the curtains fell down in the living room” to await your return. Also, I may re-read Then Again, Maybe I Won’t. Or Blubber. Maybe both.

Actually, I just noticed this set doesn’t have Deenie! Is anyone going to be in Portland anytime soon? Special consideration if you want to trade for a well-used copy of AYTG? IMM.

Talking Heads – The Book I Read

But that was a small trifle compared to the whole seating arrangement. I suppose it’s my fault for not doing enough research, but it turns out that one side of the train sees glorious views and the other, for a good portion of the trip, sees a wall of dirt. I guess that might be OK (well, it isn’t but what can you do about it?) if they let people pick their own seats. But they don’t. They assign them based on your arrival time at the station (you can’t do it in advance). The train is at 6:40am which tells you how much effort is needed to get there early. I arrived at 5:45am which was the earliest you can get there by public transport. Most of the train was already on line ahead of me. Once on board, I found that I had missed getting a scenic side seat by two people. I know that because the couple who cut me got one and I didn’t. That’s another story that I’m really too bitter to tell. Beyond that, they seated a guy next to me who had a computer so getting up was an ordeal and once again, I was in front of a disruptive child. All this would have been fine on an east coast Amtrak, because I would have gathered my things and moved, or more likely, staked out a good seat from the beginning and maneuvered to get it. But here, frequent announcements demanded that you not switch seats as Amtrak had it all carefully planned for upcoming riders at other stops. They even declared that if you saw an empty car to not sit there because they were for future passengers and “we have our own system.”

I think this was the moment I began to boil with rage, looking at the dirt wall. You mean there were empty seats but they were sitting unenjoyed so that people getting on at Seattle or wherever could have them? Holy fuck. As if this weren’t enough, the fabulous system that NW Amtrak had in place seemed to work great as the people who came on there all had assignments for seats already taken by Vancouver people.

So here’s my advice, Amtrak: learn from your Eastern counterparts. Let people sit wherever they want. It all seems to work out just fine and has for years. People getting on at later stops get whatever seats remain, that’s the rule of the rails. I think this is why communism failed, you know?

This was the first train that I couldn’t wait to get off of. Naturally, it was late. Thanks, Amtrak!

And here’s my advice for future travelers: either get there reeeeally early, like 4:30am or else, after the border passport check about an hour in (you really are matched to your seat there), walk through and try to find a better seat. By Bellingham, though, I found that new people had already grabbed all the good ones. So your window on having anything decent is pretty short.

And now back to dodging hippies in Portland. There will be no pictures attached to this post. You’re welcome!

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Well, I’ve tweeted. And checked in a lot via Facebook. But that’s no way to remind you of my existence when you have so many more interesting things going on in your lives.

You see, I’ve been distracted. By this.

Stunning, right? This place is lovely and that’s just the surroundings. It’s a really nice city, like New York except more laid back. In fact, I’ve seen my first hipsters since I left. I could have done without those, but no matter. It’s a bit overcast, but otherwise my favorite weather. And my feet are about to fall off from all the walking. Luckily, I’ve eaten twice as much to make up for it.

My hotel is right near the place where the riots took place and you see these boards all over:

If you can’t read the tiny messages, they are apologies for the damage. So nice and polite.

This is my last day in town and then tomorrow off to Portland. I have tons of other photos to show from my amazing train journey (things to say, probably, too) but that can wait till I get home. A place I almost forgot. Oh wait, it’s the town with all the hipsters. Yes.

And now off to stuff my face. I mean, explore.

Love,
Becca

The recreation car consists of some tables with checker boards on them and a continental breakfast, the continent being North America. The dry-erase board informs me that they will be having Bingo later as well as showing one of the Twilight movies. I think I will be in the observation car then or more probably asleep, as sleep last night was scarce, what with the jostling of the train car. I see an Ambien in my future. My compartment, the “Cabin For One” is adorable, if a bit cramped. We’ll see if I can get a decent picture but I’m not sure the angles of the space will permit it.

I had a lovely time in Saskatchewan, which I am informed I pronounce like a native, and I thank the lovely Holand for hosting me and showing me around. Tomorrow, we arrive in Vancouver and if they can de-wedge me from my cozy compartment, I’ll be on my own there and for the rest of the trip. Thanks for coming along! Imagine me making this whole speech again but in poorly-accented French for maximum authenticity.

I also enjoyed our driver, who said things like this: “is anyone getting off in Moose Jaw? This is important… because we’re not stopping in Moose Jaw.”

Onward!

They have record stores in Canada! Oh, how I miss record stores. I especially enjoyed Depeche Mode being next to the Canadian-marked Celine Dion. But really, it was just great to flip through the racks again.

More soon!