Two seasons, twenty four hours

My short time back at hostel 1110 was as relaxed as can be. The staff at this hotel were great, especially Pao who was so lovely to me and complimented me on my improved Spanish (which was pretty kind of her considering it was still pretty dire). Before I left I was sure to acquire her contact details.

Leaving San Jose, I didn't really consider I was leaving behind summer. Frankly it just didn't occur. That is until I was on the plane from Dallas Fort Worth to Calgary, sat next to an older Canadian woman totally dissing Canada. "What the hell are you doing going to Calgary in March?!" she exclaimed at me on the plane ride over, "I wouldn't be going except my daughter's about to give birth, so I've got no choice. I'd rather be in my holiday home in Florida." Well very nice too. Still, with all this bitching, I was excited about getting to Canada.

I arrived around 10 at night, and seeing my aeroplane companion off with a congratulations-on-your-grandchild and a raised eyebrow or two, I met Christy (Ty's friend from Calgary) at the airport.

Now, I can't say I've had a "travellers experience" of Canada as such. In fact, I've been extremely well looked after by some established friends and some brand spanking new ones. This has given me an altogether different outlook on Canada than if I was navigating this country on my todd, and one that I am extremely grateful for.

First thing's first, the cold. And it was cold. I went from plus 30 degrees to minus 20 in one day; this kind of temperature is fine to look at from the safety and confines of a house but to actually walk around in is another thing altogether. I got a new kind of burn: windburn, and it's just as sexy as sunburn and tends to feature mostly on the nose and cheeks. Calgary was apparently warm (we're talking minus 3 or 4 warm) the week before I arrived, when suddenly temperatures plummeted and stayed that way for the duration. My first excursion out my finger's were colder than I'd ever known them and I experienced frozen snot for the first time in my life - it's a very odd feeling.

I did all necessary tourist things on my list (compiled by Matt the Canadian who I'd met in Panama) and went to the Glenbow museum, wandered Steven Avenue, up the Calgary tower and down to Kensington to drink tea - which sounds remarkably British. I think I would've enjoyed my time a lot more without the minus 20 odd wind chill, which made me work harder than I truthfully wanted to. Still, despite the chilly weather, I had a fantastic time hanging out with Christy, her boyfriend Emmanuel and his little girl Anaelle.

Next for my first Canadian road trip, North on the trans-Canada highway with Ty, Christy and Emmanuel to Moose Jaw - yes really - to catch a ride to Saskatoon. It was a beautiful day blue skies as far as could be seen, but those Canadian's ain't kidding when they say of this journey "it's a spot-the-hill" road trip; prairies all the way. 6 hours later and we've made it to an A&W to catch our ride to an even colder part of Canada.

The one thing that will always make me think of my time in Saskatuwen is a blues song: One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer. That's the epitome of my time there, that and BBQs fired up in minus 47 degree chills and my first taste of bison and elk (I know I'm supposed to be veggie, but I figured: when in Canada).

For culture's sake, we made it to a Joni Mitchell (she is Canadian after all) photography show and saw some very cool kinetic artwork. I was intrigued by the frozen, steaming river which looked a lot like it would be steaming hot but I was in no rush to prove that theory. I was driven around in huge vehicles, lived with more cats than my lungs could handle, and appreciated pilsner like it was my heritage. I know the Edmonton Oilers, the Detroit Redwings and I can appreciate a game of curling. All in all I consider my time in Saskatoon a Canadian initiation, and overall I rather liked it.