Day 3: Banff to Regina
Leaving Banff, in no time you’re in the flatlands of Calgary – “Heart of the New West”.
I think it’s been billed the “New West” for at least 30 years now, ever since the oil and gas industry started cashing in during the oil embargo “energy crisis” of the 70s and hasn’t looked back since. Before that Westerners would always gripe about the country always revolved around the whims of Central Canada and their old money, but after Alberta started looking after itself – dumping the National Energy Programme, pumping up its own rainy-day fund ($17 billion at last count) and, most un-Canadian of all, eliminating sales tax! – it’s got a swagger of its own. Goodbye ding-dong of pastoral cowbells, hello bling-bling of sweet sweet crude.
It’s the last big city I’ll see before making it East, but from the free-flowing traffic of the T-Can on 16 Av, you wouldn’t think it. Wide lanes (at least a 50% bonus compared to Vancouver’s main streets), and the one time I had to cut lanes to make a turn, no pissed-off f***ing-tourist-! reaming; just a laid-back, wave in – hey, I thought this was the big bad sprawling monstro-city that is Calgary! Too nice.
Stopped by a McDonald’s for a takeaway road-friendly lunch – nuggets make munching at 120Km/h clean and easy. I haven’t been to a McDonald’s in years; back in undergrad I’d go at least once a week, when the residence cafeteria closed for the weekends, but ever since then it’d only be an emergency option. Looks like they’ve gone upscale while I’ve been away: fieldstone walls, fireplace, ceramic flooring – hey, I thought this was the good old quick and dirty feedbag, 60 billion served McD’s! Fancy. And the new coffee: not bad at all. Definitely not the comforting darkness of Starbucks bold, but switch it for my usual Horton’s double-double and I probably wouldn’t notice. It’s caffeine, and that’s what matters.
The cup design, however, isn’t quite so travel-friendly – a Starbucks-style solid rim with sipping port would’ve been better than this Hortons-style leaky flip-top. At least they throw in a forest-sized napkin wad with the nuggets when you order takeaway.
And thence to Saskatchewan, Naturally. Though you’d be forgiven if the landscape somehow reminded you of something somewhat more artificial – hmm, subliminal Saskatchewan advertising on Windows XP wallpaper? Wonder how much Microsoft charged for that!
A convoy of pedestrians stuck to the shoulder as cars buzzed past. I think it was a group marching to Ottawa in memory of the disappeared, murdered prostitutes and others suffering in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside. I honked in support – only the third time I’ve ever used the horn (the others being the first time I got the car, and once at the dealership to get into the service bay) – they waved back, and one of them took a picture. It was about 30C outside under the Prairie sun when I drove by; hopefully they’re close to their next stop.
Hopefully this skateboarder is close to home too – this was about 15Km out of Maple Creek and another 30Km to the next town. And he doesn’t have a support van to back him up. Madness!
Swift Current and Moose Jaw throw in their city tag lines on their welcome signs – “where life makes sense” and “The Friendly City”, respectively
Regina, however, lets the skyline speak for itself
I love how it just sprouts out from the plain, middle of nowhere like that. Other places usually have a “wow” moment, where you crest a hill, turn a bend or cross a bridge, and the city skyline catches you all at once – eg descending into Vancouver from South Granville St, or facing onto Manhattan from the Brooklyn Bridge. But Regina kind of creeps up on you, as you creep up on it from the highway.
It’s no less of a surprise – one second you’re on undeveloped prairie, the next you’re in the middle of standard big-box suburban sprawl (yep, that’s how you know it’s Regina – keeping 70s-style wasteful car-centric sprawl alive into the 21st century), wondering what these people are thinking letting such crappy city planning continue unchecked.
Well, I do anyway. That’s how I know I’m home.
