One of my favourite descriptions of the Canadian prairies is that 'it's so flat and boring in the prairies you can watch your dog run away for two days'. From the airplane I could see that the flat part was right but I was hoping that I could find something more exciting than dog watching to look at during my four day visit to Prince Albert, about 400 kms north of Saskatoon.
The small Pronto Airlines plane bumped down at 6pm, about six hours after I left Toronto at 2pm. Time changes confuse the hell out me and when my blackberry didn't reset itself properly in either Winnipeg or Saskatoon I was thrown off for the next three days, constantly asking people what the real time was. Being in communication with people across the country often adds to my confusion and I've missed more than one flight because I misread/misunderstood what time it was.
For once I had assembled my whole team in town the day before the work project began, and with one member of the team leaving after this job I had planned on sending her off with a night out to remember. We checked in at the hotel and then met at Rogues Tavern across the parking lot for a couple of pints of Great Northern beer. Rogues is a local bar, with a hard working blue collar clientele. In other words, a shit hole.. but the sun beamed down on the patio and the company was excellent and we talked and laughed for a couple of hours. Nicely lubricated by the sun and the beer we later headed to dinner at 'Amy's On 2nd', a restaurant that was highly recommended by the locals.
I've come to appreciate the wonderful restaurants that exist in small outposts across this country and northern towns, whether Ontario, the Prairies or on either of our coasts, constantly amaze me by outclassing the restaurants found in the larger cities of the south. The pickerel special at 'Amy's' had me salivating by the end of the waiter's description but sadly, when it arrived almost an hour later, did not live up to the reputation that preceded it's late arrival. We washed down our meals with several bottles of Chilean wine and a decadent cheesecake and toasted the boss back in Toronto for approving the ridiculous expenses that might accumulate during the week. About 11pm local time our we (I) paid the bill at Amy's and walked around the corner to the Northern Lights Casino. I quickly lost the $20 I had in my pocket and sheepishly went in search of an ATM. The four of us then settled in at a blackjack table and proceeded to try, in our fairly inebriated state, to not act like a bunch of drunken city folk on a business trip in Northern Saskatchewan.
It wasn't long before we attracted the attention of the 'pit-bosses' (Pit-boss is a new word to me.. one I'm pretty sure I'll never use again.) We were warned about noise, cursing, late betting, jumping (in celebration ), hitting the table (in frustration) and god knows what else. We were not warned about over betting. Against all odds, literally and figuratively, my stack of chips continued to grow as everyone else's dwindled and after a bunch of hands I cashed in and realized I was up $100. We wrapped up the night later at the hotel drinking Crown and cokes out of tiny plastic hotel room cups, laughing and sending drunken e-mails and pictures to our colleagues across the country.
As always work duties kept me busy the next couple of days but the morning of the third day brought a few hours break in my work schedule and I grabbed the opportunity to head out to explore the wild streets of Prince Albert. Excited, as always, to see what the hidden jem was to be found in this small northern prairie town. I followed green lights around town for a half hour, seeing the same box stores, fast food chains and gas stations that I see everywhere until I saw a road sign pointing to River Street. Most places seem to have a River St or Front St or Lakeshore Dr and I inevitably gravitate to them. Water usually means public spaces and picture taking opportunities and this particular River St did not disappoint.
The Saskatchewan River, I learned on Wikipedia, is a pretty frickin big river. It runs from the Alberta Rockies all the way to Lake Winnipeg. It was cool to stand beside a river that I have looked down on a dozen times from airplane windows as it snakes it way 500 kms across the prairies.
The river allowed water travel across the country 'back in the day' and Prince Albert played a big part in the history of early exploration, the Hudson's Bay Co, Louis Riel's uprising in 1885, Canadian Conservatism, and countless other interesting events all depicted on various plaques and monuments along the river. I walked along the river for awhile and then headed into town to find myself in the older, and somewhat seedier district. It was so depressing to see the same obvious issues here as in so many other northern towns. Poverty, second rate liquor stores, shitty rooming houses, and pawn shops are the backdrop to men stumbling around in the morning or lying on sidewalks.
(So often men of our First Nations, still struggling with the same issues of the last hundred years. I've seen it in Winnipeg, Toronto, Thunder Bay, The Soo, Sudbury, Vancouver.. homelessness, unemployment, under-education.... alcoholism, drug abuse, poverty. I feel shame when I encounter this face to face over and over again and wish the whole country felt the same.)
I wandered around the streets of Old Prince Albert, checking out the buildings down the sidestreets and finding little hints of what it would've been like in those historic times.Old painted advertisements on the sides of buildings selling chewing tobacco and O-Pee-Chee Chewing gum catch my eye and after I snap pics I see demolition signs on the front of the buildings.. another piece of history gone.
I headed back to my rental car, walking through the town square and checking out the original Town Hall (circa 1892) Opera House, Jail and Museum (closed as per usual) then drove 'uptown' to check out the house of our 13th PM, John G Diefenbaker.
(Way back in grade 6 history we had to pick a Canadian historical figure to do a project on. I don't know why I picked good ol' John G but I did and as a result know way more than anyone else I know about this mid-century PM.)
I felt like an Elvis fan approaching Graceland as I followed the road markers through the tree-lined, tony streets to the small-ish, modest house. I rolled down the window and snapped a picture with my BlackBerry® (don't even ask about my brand new already dropped in lake now abandoned on airplane camera) and headed back to the hotel to get ready for work.
One last dinner that night with the team at an amazing steakhouse called Sopranos where I ate the best lobster ravioli ever made wrapped up the trip for most of the group and we parted with full bellies and a slight wobble in our steps as the result of more than a couple of bottles of wine.
(I highly recommend this Sopranos to anyone ever having the misfortune to find themselves in Prince Albert, Saskatchewan!!)
With most of the team having flown or driven out early the next morning G. and I planned on killing the last few hours in town wandering around the Historical Museum and the Art Gallery, both of which she had called to make sure they were open. The museum was surprisingly interesting and well stocked with artifacts of both local and national significance. It was well worth the two dollar admission and 25 cent per hour parking meter. We finished up at the museum and started walking to the Art Gallery when G realized that our plane was leaving two hours earlier than we thought (again that time difference threw me off!) The Art Gallery was out and we ran to the car then raced to the airport calling the rental company on the way to tell them they would have to pick up their car there. With no time to eat before 6 hour of flights ahead of me I grabbed vending machine snacks and stuff as much crap into my face as I could while the attendant tried to push me through security. 
NorthWestern Airlines 'flew' us back to Saskatoon then 'chaffeured' us down the street to the 'real' terminal in a short bus that was quite obviously a castoff from the Korean War. I wouldn't have been surprised if the driver had asked us to hop out and give the bus a push to get it started. We arrived at Air Canada terminal a short ride later and ran for our connecting flight, hoping that someone remembered to take our luggage and route it on to Toronto. With luck we had a delay in Saskatoon and had the time to sit down for lunch, of course my meal came stuffed with chicken which I can't eat and I sent it back and got on the next flight still hungry. Turbulence prevented any food service on the 2.5 hour flight to Winnipeg and I got through the flight digging stale peanuts out of my backpack and pretending that it wasn't my stomach making all that noise.
A quick turnaround in the 'Peg and on to Toronto, the final leg of the journey. Food was served on the Air Canada flight but by the time they reached my seat they had sold out of veggie sandwiches and pizza so I once again tried to fill up on junk. Pringles, chocolate and beer served as lunch and dinner and my stomach churned and gurgled in protest.
Touching down in Toronto at about 10pm, six hours after leaving Prince Albert at 2pm, I waited an hour for my luggage and headed home. A ridiculous traffic slowdown on the highway extended the trip an extra hour and I was glad to finally hit my exit and be almost home at last. With my mind already focused on what I may have to eat in the fridge at home to make the by now epic rumbling in my stomach stop I was surprised less than a kilometer from home when the police car raced up behind me and pulled me over for an 'amber light infraction.' With my license and insurance nowhere to be found (bottom of suitcase) the cop was happy to write me three tickets totalling almost $300 .
Welcome home.
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