Up and out early today, on this, Canada’s Birthday. There was a happy atmosphere in the breakfast room today, our waitress, a Filipina asked us excitedly if we were viewing the parade. We said sadly no, we are on our way to Lake Louise. Some of the people in the restaurant have the maple leaf tattooed on their cheeks. Some have red and white hats. When we leave and get on the road, main street Jasper has parking restrictions for most of the day.
We are off down the Icefields Parkway again, our destination the famous Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise (of which more later). For parts of the journey we are driving through the clouds as we climb up the mountain passes. Progress is good however, there is not much traffic on the road at this early hour. We spot a bear again, and take some pictures, but less than on previous days.
Soon we arrive at our first stop for the day, The Icefields Centre. We are to take a trip up onto the Athabasca Glacier, part of the Columbia Icefield. We will be transported on a powerful, but low speed, vehicle. Our driver is a young French Canadian lady with a well rehearsed patter, verging on the risqué at times. Her boyfriend Zac, also a driver, is a Welshman who comes from Ruithin. For the twenty minute journey from the centre to the glacier our driver is talking constantly. When we arrive at the glacier there are some breaks in the cloud. We disembark and walk onto the ice. It is difficult to put into words the scale of the glacier. It seemed to me to have a life, with water rushing into gullies, pieces of ice dropping off the front of the ice wall, and deposits of fine silt and gravel in lines throughout the ice. It is disturbing to note how far this glacier has receded since the dawn of industrialisation as evidenced by the moraine dumps where the toe of the glacier once sat. The blue ice beneath my feet is quite beautiful.
After twenty minutes on the glacier we return to the Icefield Centre. My fellow traveller is on a bookmark hunt in the gift shop. I wait outside in a vain attempt to photo bomb the far eastern tourists taking pictures of their fellow travellers in front of a stuffed moose dressed in a Canadian Mountie’s uniform.
Oh and no bookmarks, but more tea towels.
Onward now, and as we leave the car park which had about twenty cars in it when we arrived is now close to bursting. We turn off the Parkway into the parking lot for Peyto Lake which is full. We read in the guidebook that we should proceed to the top car park for a trail walk to a higher observation point. Regrettably this area is now reserved for disabled drivers and coaches. We decide to follow the directions given in the book, but on foot. There is a very steep climb up the road here, and with the rarefied atmosphere we both are forced to stop for breath. We leave the upper parking lot and follow the trail through the woods to a rocky outcrop. I spot a small animal running around the rocks, we think it is a ground squirrel.
We cross the rocks and sit on the edge of the cliff and look down on the turquoise waters of the lake below. We are alone there, well apart from the small furry animal.
We set the camera on self-timer and take our picture gazing at the view. (Not happy about the prominent bald patch in the picture by the way).
We turn back now and head down the trail by a different route, we decide to take the lower viewpoint. There are many people here milling around, we are glad to have read the book and took the trail, even though it was a hard climb.
There are no more stops now until we arrive at the Chateau Lake Louise. The road to the lake is lined with cars parked on both sides for about a mile. The public car parks are full. We turn into the hotel car park and hand our keys to the parking attendant and remove our cases. We try to check in, we have arrived about forty-five minutes early. Although I cannot get the key yet, I complete the formalities, and we retire to the lounge for a cup of tea and sustenance.
And here begins the catalogue of issues we have at the hotel. My fellow travellers tea cup is dirty, there is a dirty brown tide mark half way up the cup. The cup is changed. We are seated next to a family with three uncontrolled children who are getting bored and boisterous. The table and floor are as bad as you would see in any McDonalds. Not the sort of ambience one would expect for teat at this hotel. Our room is ready so we pick up the key, and on entering are relieved to see the view of the lake and the mountains from our room window. We go to the pool for a swim, we are alone for a while as there are crowds outside getting free cake to celebrate Canada Day.
We return to the room and try the TV which does not appear to be working. Problem number two. We dress for dinner, and make our way to the lounge for a cocktail. Third problem coming up. My fellow traveller orders a Bombay Sapphire based cocktail with kiwi fruit. I order another Bombay Sapphire based drink called Green Park, which has basil leaves in its recipe. Our server returns to advise my companion that there is no kiwi fruit, so her choice cannot be provided. A substitute Bombay Sapphire and tonic is ordered. The waiter goes away again and returns shortly after. There is no Bombay Sapphire, and there is no basil available to produce my concoction. We try with two gin and tonics, brand at their option. He returns one more time to tell us that there is Bombay Sapphire, so two gin and tonics with Bombay Sapphire it is then. I settle the bill and see a man in a grey suit that looks like he has an important job to do. I relay the story of the drinks choice to him, and politely suggest that if the bar staff know that they do not have the ingredients for the cocktails on the menu, maybe they should remove the menus or mark them appropriately. He takes my point. We go to the restaurant for dinner, and when we reach the front of house we ask for a table for two. We are asked whether we have a reservation. We reply that we do not, as we were advised by the check in clerk that booking tables was not available, it was a first come first served system. The gentleman then informs us that there is nothing he can offer us until nine thirty. At this point my fellow traveller begins to, well, loose her rag. She recounts the tales of our experiences in this hotel, in just over two and a half hours, adding this current problem to the list. He goes away and returns shortly afterwards and informs us he has a table which he says “is at the back and a bit cosy”. We follow him to a table which on the face of it appears the same as all the others in the dining room. There are fifteen tables in this section of the restaurant, ten of them are empty and remain so until we leave. So much for being fully booked. The food is reasonable, and as a result of the complaints we are subjected to an almost over attentive level of service. When we settle the bill the cost of two glasses of wine and the mineral water have been removed from the bill.
Bed now, and we retire with a sense of disappointment that, the view apart, what should have been a highlight of our holiday has been anything but.