← PreviousFolding Mountain and Jasper's icy nightsWednesday 26 August
Again last night the cold laid its thin, insidious film over Jasper, and we were feeling far from brave in the car. Luckily we'd piled on the layers and managed to sleep without suffering too much. But it's a beginner's mistake: in the middle of August we hadn't even considered it might be cold in the Rockies. Yet it's obvious: in the mountains, at two thousand metres, the weather is unpredictable. You learn from your mistakes, and this is one we won't make again!
It's still chilly when we get up around 8 to use the toilets in the park next door. On the way out an old man starts chatting about the weather. We've noticed it over the weeks: behind the good humour, many elderly people feel lonely and jump at any chance to talk to someone. It's not the first time, and we always take a little time to learn more about the person. This gentleman has lived in Jasper for many years, alone, and strikes us as socially isolated. After ten minutes or so he has launched into an endless monologue where subjects follow one another with no apparent link, and we desperately look for a pause to tell him we have to go. At another time of day we'd have suggested a drink, but it's cold this morning and we're still tired from the night.
We settle in the little café on the edge of town and chat with a French waitress who has lived here for a year. The vast majority of our compatriots settle in Montreal, and few try their luck in English-speaking Canada. Life in Montreal is so easy for French people that you can barely call it expatriation, so much does it resemble life in a French city. Our waitress tells us she first arrived in Montreal but feared she'd settle in too quickly and never move again, whereas her dream in coming to Canada was to see the Rockies. When the chance to work here came up, she didn't hesitate. You can't blame her: Montreal has all the assets of a lively city where life is good, and without Covid we'd surely have spent our two visa years there… There are lots of customers this morning, and the conversation goes no further. Never mind: we go for a walk on a trail along a string of mirror lakes, but the rain catches us off guard.
Anyway, it's time to take the road to Edmonton. It isn't the most attractive city in the country, and the few Canadians we've met who live there agree it's ugly and boring. For five days we'll be house-sitting there, the Anglo-Saxon concept of staying in people's homes to look after the house, and often the pets, while they're away. We'd already used the site to go to New York for free at Christmas, and we're delighted to enjoy the comfort of a house for several days in a row. A real bed, real showers!
We arrive at 6 pm at Kalpana and James's, who invite us to dinner before they leave the next morning. They're English, settled in Canada since 2006, and we meet the two dogs we'll be looking after: Kenya, a six-year-old greyhound, and Max, an old fourteen-year-old shepherd cross. Max has been with them since birth; Kenya comes from a rescue. Like many greyhounds, she was a racing champion. Wonderful, you think? Well, no: these dogs, which earn their owners a lot of money, are often put down at the end of their careers, at barely five years old. An association takes them in to spare them that sad fate and puts them up for adoption. It's an excellent, well-lubricated evening, and we go to bed around midnight, savouring the pleasure of lying on a comfortable mattress.
Thursday 27 to Sunday 30 August
Edmonton doesn't have much going for it. Ringed by gigantic boulevards, it offers few points of interest. Its downtown is hardly attractive, and we see the historic buildings in a few hours. Ask a local where to spend time and the answer is invariably the same: the mall. Who knows why, but in 1981 they decided to build here what was for a long time the largest shopping centre in the world: half a million square metres and more than eight hundred shops, plus a water park, an amusement park and an aquarium. We only stay an hour, overwhelmed by the sheer scale and not much drawn to this temple of consumption.
These few days of stillness in the middle of a frantic journey are spent running, going to the cinema for the first time in six months and pampering the car: new tyres, oil top-up, a top-to-bottom tidy and clean… and above all, lots of rest! Our days border on idleness: apart from walking the dogs, we don't do much. But what bliss! Kalpana and James have gone camping eight hours west, in British Columbia, but their trip isn't going to plan. On Friday Kalpana writes that they'll be back early: the noise is stopping them sleeping. As we've often told you, campgrounds are frequently set next to highways or railways, and theirs is no exception. Instead of coming back on Tuesday, they'll be home on Sunday evening, hoping we don't mind.
That suits us fine, for two reasons: sharing another meal with them, and gaining a day on the road. We've grown very fond of Max and Kenya, but four days in Edmonton were enough, and we're not sorry to cut things a little short. They get home on Sunday around 8 pm; we've made them crêpes and an Indian dhal, and once again the evening flies by chatting about everything and nothing.