Tip of the Hat and a Bow to Bowness

I'm going to do what every prof and every teacher before them has explicitly told me not to do. I'm going to reference wikipedia. I guess it's just the rebellious side of me. That or the lazy side.

According to wikipedia, the town of Bowness was amalgamated by Calgary in 1963. And also according to wikipedia, amalgamated means a merger in a political or administrative sense. In case you weren't entirely sure, like me.

Allegedly, Bowness was a bit of a slum at the time that Calgary took it over, but it really is in a beautiful part of the city, in the river valley. So of course people were willing to buy the decrepit houses and either fix them up or tear them down in order to live on a floodplain. After taking geology this semester, I'd rather not live on a floodplain, but to each his own. That's the price of beauty, I suppose. Bowness is now not exactly pristine, but apparently much improved, and it has a small town feel to it. 

In small towns you don't pay for parking, you can visit the local diner and tie your dog up out front, and let your child play with the dog without direct supervision. You can take your mug outside of the diner, sit on a bench and feel the morning sun as you enjoy your coffee with a cigarette. (Not that I would ever do this, family members that may or may not be reading!) And yes, you can do all of these things in Bowness.

The diner I speak of is none other that the Cadence Café. 85% of people who voted on Cadence on urbanspoon like it. (This is including my vote.) I don't really know who the other 15% who voted that they didn't like it think they are, but I don't think I really like them. Cadence Café is retro themed, with black and white checkered flooring, vinyl bar stools and chairs, and I swear the exact model of table that is in my grandmother's home. What you really need to know about the café, though is that the food is delicious. If you're into coffee, some of the people voted it the best coffee in all of Calgary. And my clubhouse sandwich was about the size of 1.5 average clubhouse sandwiches. 

And for a student getting 1.5 meals for the price of 1 just makes sense. 

Other notable features of my time in Bowness is a great travel clinic where you can get consulted and injected all in one visit. I clearly didn't spend much time in Bowness if that's what I'm noting, you might think. Well, people, I have a midterm Monday, I'm sorry, but I had to keep the visit short. 

I drove by Bowness Park and it looks like a delightful place. When I went it was cold enough that there was still ice and people skating and it pretty much exactly looked like this image by a Mr. Neil Woodward (plus a third dimension):

So that's my tip of my hat and a bow to Bowness. Because I quite enjoyed the comfortableness that people there seem to have with one another; the small town vibe. 

And with that, I'm off to enjoy the remaining 0.5 of my clubhouse sandwich. 

Transit Demographics

Any one Calgary C-Train typically has the following:

1. One elderly couple who presumably no longer drive.


2. One group of people speaking a language you do not understand nor do you have any idea what language it is.


3. One group of people speaking a language that you can either get a few words out of or you can at least identify.


4. One person deep in sleep. (If you're lucky they're not drooling.)


5. Two people reading some sort of newspaper (whether this be a man trying to look intelligent but failing because he is reading the Calgary Sun, or a business man who wishes to look important).


6. One person philosophizing. (Example: debating the poetic aptitude of Dr. Seuss like he is not a children's author.)


7. One person or group who really has no idea what he/she/they is/are talking about. (Example: business people in the oil industry remarking on how sticky and tar-like the tar sands are: apparently it is like tar; who would have thought?)


8. One young family complete with stroller. This family is either ecologically friendly or presumably low income without a car. Or their kids really like the train.


9. One person reading the weirdest book you have ever seen. (Types of books range from analyzing nightmares from a new angle to testimonials)


10. One person discussing with demographic #9 what he/she is reading. This discussion usually contains some talk about how they came upon the new age religion and/or nightmare book: fell out of the shelf "choosing them".


11. One group of hipsters. Those are the 12-15 year old boys in skinny jeans, plaid shirts, and with longboards. They are too young to drive and remark on how intelligent they are if they use a word longer than 3 syllables.


12. The overly friendly person. Sometimes they are one in the same with demographic #10. But at other times they ask if they can add you to his/her birthday list or tell you that on one's nineteenth birthday you have reached 7000 days old (other my math is wrong or his math was wrong). At times you are able to avoid eye contact with said person thus preventing interaction. 


13. Me 

*The post you have just read may involve some stereotyping and over-generalizations*
*These are the demographics for mid-day. As one would presume, at night young family and elderly numbers decrease and we see a rise in groups that claim to be in a band, groups that appear to be in a gang, and that one overly drunk person*

Exploring "Calgary"

When you google things to do in Calgary, some are actually in Calgary, and then there are the recommendations where "Calgary" is actually surrounding area.

Explore Calgary. But drive at least an hour to the mountains.

But while this is a misnomer, I wanted to blog about it anyways because I'm betting that generally when people visit Calgary they take in the mountains. How could you not want to see something that's so beautiful it looks fake? Unless it's people who are so beautiful they look fake. Then that's just weird.

For example, the photo to the left isn't even good. It's taken on a phone out of a car window. And the mountains still look good.


Good work, God.

or for you sciencey types:

Good work, tectonic plates.

sitting on the fencers:

Good work, God via the tectonic plates.





I had the pleasure this weekend of going skiing for the fourth time in my life because I have a fantastically nice aunt living in Calgary. In the mountains, at the Nakiska ski hill. Actually, mountain is a better term, not hill, all the other places I've skied are hills. This was for real, people. (By my standards as I think Nakiska is considered small) Little terrifying at first, but it all worked out. I can skate so it wasn't too difficult to pick up on skiing again after 4 years. Spent a lot of time being shown up by small children, but that'll happen.

Notice the children behind me going on the same run as me. 

And despite some terribly strong winds that have given me a nice racoon wind burn of the outline of where my goggles were, it was an enjoyable time.

So while I'm working on getting that healed, if you are in the Calgary area. Explore "Calgary". Witness the mountains that are a sight to see every time because God and/or tectonic plates created them.

Witness the mountains.

D

Where the Sidewalk Ends

(Shout out to Mr. Silverstein for the title.)

Walking in cities frustrates me. You can never just walk in a straight line anywhere. You go up and over, down and around and through, but never ever straight.

This week I decided I would get off at the Fish Creek/ Lacombe C-Train stop just simply because. And I was excited because the train had passed by a park (later identified as Fish Creek Park which makes sense) that looked nice, having a scenic bridge. 

But do you think I could figure out how to get there?
It's not a rhetorical question. Rhetoric is for difficult, thought-inspiring questions. The question I just asked is simple.  

I wandered down a slope from the station, found a pond, and then of course a highway. That was not bordered by a sidewalk and as far as I could tell unsurpassable. Unless I intended to do a kamikaze run through traffic. But seeing as how I enjoy life and am not quite that dedicated to the blog I decided that I would return to Fish Creek Park another time.

Plus I had more pressing issues. Finding a bathroom. It's a substantial C-Train ride.

While on my way to the Humpty's across the tracks (up, over, and down) to solve Issue #1, I noticed two old-school churches across the highway, so once I had solved Issue #1, I figured I would do some trespassing. Nothing like trespassing on a Saturday afternoon.

Up and over and down again (after being threatened by the sign shown above) and I was across the street and staring at yet another post-secondary institute in Calgary that I had no idea existed: St. Mary's University College. Add that to the pile with ACAD and Bow Valley College. Not to mention all the random secondary campuses of non-local institutions that exist. So I took a quick glance at St. Mary's because I was a little puzzled, and then back on track to the churches.

I crept down some side street with the night and into the graveyard through a cast-iron gate.

That might be a bit of an elaboration. It was midday. And I couldn't tell you the make up of that fence. Could have been regular iron for all I know. I don't even know if there is a difference between iron and cast-iron.

Plus graveyards stopped scaring me when I was approximately 13. Ok, I was a bit older than that.

The point is that now I like them. My favourite headstones are old, large, and ornate. I also like when one family has a section fenced off from the rest of the cemetery.

My major is archaeology. This should be known. Otherwise unless you are also fascinated by old things as well, you probably will not understand how enthralled I was to have stumbled upon these churches. St. Paul's (the one I spent more time looking at on account of the other church being under repair and bearing a sign saying that it was under video surveillance) was built in 1885 and has a bell from England that is more than 200 years old. Which is not really old by world church standards but was old enough by Alberta standards for me to geek out about.

I took a few minutes to check out the other church which is in a bit of rough shape. There was no sign of the name of the other church in sight.

Heading back to St. Paul's chapel, there was still that glow from the windows that I was fairly certain was neither the sun reflecting off the glass, nor my imagination. And sure enough as I paused to take a picture, out of the church came a man who also was photographing the church. Which was pretty good timing. When I asked him if the church still held service regularly on a whim (because most churches of that age don't but the whole 11 am worship on the sign was misleading) he said that it has about 5 masses a year and 2 weddings this year. I'm not Anglican but I would consider getting married there. It's a pretty nice church. Backdrop of the church not so much. Content with all that had happened, I followed a curving path out of the church site, retraced my steps on the back street and hit the spot where the sidewalk ends, or rather from my direction where it began.

And that is a corny ending to this post. Too corny.

I found a lotto max ticket from January 13th when I was trying to walk straight, cutting through a parking lot. Then, with much serendipity, a friend later told me that January 13th's ticket was indeed bought in Calgary.

And had not been claimed!

How awesome would have that been? Yes, "would".

I checked the numbers of last week's win and they're not mine. I signed the ticket anyways. I wouldn't want to be a chump like whoever lost that ticket in the hypothetical scenario where the ticket I found was a winner. Instead of just a piece of garbage that can't even win me another ticket.

But maybe you have more luck than me? 

Cheater, Cheater, Cupcake Eater

Ok, so I cheated a bit this week. Even more so than last week's just heading downtown which was pretty uninspired (but eventful nonetheless). The Crew (2 actually returned and I was able to sucker a newbie into joining) and I went to Kensington.

Which I have been to before.

But in my defence, I needed to kill two birds with one stone having regretfully put off homework all week and having limited weekend free time. I had to take my weekly trip and I also needed to start looking into places to live for next year and Kensington is conveniently located in the sphere of Calgary I know. Kensington is thus a viable living option but a less viable option for the "How to Get Lost in Calgary" blog.

Regardless, Kensington is a wonderful place with unique stores: an import store, used clothing store, art store, cupcake store, and yes, a drug paraphernalia store (whether or not that is unique is debatable).
(Some bongs now 50% off in case you're interested...)

Note: my hand only looks so demented
because my fingers were curled up to avoid frostbite.

I'm not exactly sure if living in Kensington is a good idea for me. If I could afford it I probably would not be able to live there for very long since I would spend entirely too much money. Not on drug paraphernalia, I promise. But on the items in the other stores I mentioned: clothes and art classes and cupcakes with cream cheese icing. Also I probably couldn't afford to live there for my health in the case of cream cheese icing.

We passed many cute homes. The old, wooden kind with character and colour. The Newbie decided that to live in Kensington was on her life's to-do list. And I decided that I might be able to afford some of the places. Exhibit A to the right. (Squatting in an burnt building doesn't cost anything, right?)





But, honestly, there were some places that were still up and running that might have been in my price range. Bland and colourless and looking like apartments generally do. However, a home's a home, and I'm sure I could grow to love it all the same, it just might take longer than some of the other places. (If anyone is willing to donate some money so I can live in one of the houses in the next three pictures feel free, you would have my immense gratitude.)

If you desire a balcony in your future home, come on down to Kensington.  Kensington really should be paying me for all this advertisement I'm giving them. Maybe they could pay for me to live there and I could change this blog to "How to Find Your Dream Home in Kensington" or something more clever. Give me some time, Kensington, I'll come up with something good.

Kensington is a bit of a hippie's hub. Which is why I enjoy it so much. The Newbie also appreciated this. The home seen below was clearly a part of the Occupy Calgary movement, offered free hugs, and, of course, smelled slightly of marijuana as we walked by. Plus it was entirely purple.

Kensington: Perpetuating Stereotypes.

 

For you hypocrites (of which I am one), Kensington is a wonderful place to live and work:

Don't worry he got it the second time around.

After all this we were sufficiently cold and realized that of course we were terribly ill-prepared to actually go home hunting (which we pretty well knew before we left) and so we headed back to the C-Train. And guess what there is in abundance on the other side of the tracks in Sunnyside? Apartment buildings that look affordable literally 100 steps from the C-Train station.

Guess we did take a wrong turn after all.

When Given the Choice

I roped some friends into joining me on the first series of adventures in Cow-town. I was a little nervous that taking a random bus would get us nowhere except an uninteresting suburban area of Calgary, after all Calgary is majority urban sprawl. While I had not guaranteed my friends a good time, I didn't want them to disown me forever. So I agreed to take the C-train downtown and then we could jump on a random bus there.

Turns out I know relatively nothing of what is in the downtown. I have passed it on the C-train and yes,  I thought that there wasn't too much to see: skyscrapers that look like any other skyscrapers.

But, in fact, the downtown has the Olympic Plaza complete with skating rink for the winter months (and I believe fountains in the summer), houses political activists, displays the Famous Five, is reminiscent of Vieux Quebec's Rue St. Jean with its Stephen Avenue to meander down, and of course contains Chinatown.

I felt like a mother as I shepherded my ducklings around downtown which was made harder by the fact that some of my ducklings were the high energy type who like to climb on everything. (Clearly I'm still one of those mothers who is still in denial as I didn't mention A.D.D.)

I'm also clearly not ready to be a mother, because I let them climb on the structure to the left, which is quite the unstable piece of art and strictly speaking, art isn't something you let your children climb all over.

What struck me about the downtown is the odd assortment of things that it contains. You can see an A&W by a classy restaurant (not that A&W isn't classy in my books). As you climb some stairs up by sketchy looking apartments, you find a rooftop with the piece of art seen in the image to the left. And also a scary children's daycare, all of which shares a street with glass-fronted shops.

At one point the group split, letting the children scamper off to find other things to climb (they turned up again unscathed, I promise) while a few of us decided to try Bubble Tea.  I'm still not entirely sure the pearls add anything to the delectable tea, but they give you something to chew on.

After all this wandering around and seeing the sights, we were of course hungry. So we sat down in a sushi place in Chinatown. Full of food, we headed home.

What constitutes an adventure? Is it standing as close to the edge as you can? Is it the amount of times you nearly die as you climb an unsafe structure? Or can it be measured in the amount that your stomach is upset after trying new foods?

When given the choice between sea urchin, octopus, and eel, I would recommend not choosing the urchin.

Roadmap to a Blog

It's in the early hours of the morning, when I'm trying to fall back asleep that I decide to do what is a decision made only when lacking sleep: to write a blog. I'm not sure if people even read these things (but if you are PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave a comment and follow me on twitter! Just kidding). No, in all seriousness, this blog is for me more than you. In this way, this blog will be like the diaries of say the 19th century or at least what I imagine the point of writing a diary in the 19th century was, having never journeyed to that century.


Really, I have journeyed few places but I have enjoyed all the chances that I have had. Growing up in a large middle class family makes family vacations rare and somewhat unaffordable. Much like my university education.


I am attending the University of Calgary right now and because Calgary is not a short commute from where I grew up, I now live in Calgary on campus. Somewhere in my first semester I realized that maybe that "lives in Calgary" on my Facebook page is inaccurate. Perhaps "lives in U of C campus" is more accurate because what do I really know of Calgary? --A small circumference around campus and a few taxi rides to downtown. 


It's over break right around New Year's resolution time that I add another part to the starry-eyed vision of "new semester, new me". I resolve to explore more of the city I technically live in. 


(I can neither confirm nor deny if my eyes were starry-eyed because this decision was also ill-made during the same early hours of saying I should start a blog.)

So here I am. My first blog. Taking things as they go because with every random bus and new C-train stop comes a spontaneous adventure. And every spontaneous adventure comes with a good story.


Or at least that's how I am planning spontaneity to go.