Canada, a roadtrip from Vancouver to Winnipeg

Part 1. The first three weeks

A three week road trip to the west of Canada, from the Rocky Mountains across the prairies to the coldest big city on earth, Winnipeg.

The trip has been so varied and so interesting, that blogging seemed a waste of time. One conclusion is that there is no such place as Canada. Canada has a very varied population, mainly from Europe and the Far East. Many people we met are first or second generation immigrants, and towns and villages have still kept their own culture to a large extent. Shops are run by Chinese and Japanese. All of Banff is dominated by Japanese motel, hotel and shop owners, and hordes of Japanese tourists flock through the main streets. On the prairies of Saskatchewan and Alberta there are many Ukrainian towns (Read: hamlets and villages). There are German towns (eg. Muenster), and we found a café where an Austrian couple has schnitzels, alpfelstrudel and goulashsoup on the menu, while Austrian and German songs enlivened the place. So it is hard to write about Canada in general terms. Most Dutch tourists who come to Vancouver and rent a motorhome, only go to the picture postcard places in the Rocky Mountains. Or they board this fabulous train which crosses the mountains in two days, going from Vancouver to Banff or Calgary. In Alberta and Saskatchewan, we did not see any tourists. Nevertheless, the prairies have their own beauty and are very interesting. For that is where the settlers had their homesteads and tried to live their dreams. Most of those tiny homesteads are now deserted, as the going was tough and the land hard to cultivate. It must be difficult to live so far from one’s neighbours as well. Of course it depends on where people originally came from.

There are the Doukhobors, of Russian descent, who rebelled against the rites and beliefs of the Russian Orthodox church, especially the worshipping of icons. Their roots can be traced to the 18^th century. They were pacifists and severely persecuted in Russia. In 1899 some 7.500 of them left Russia and settled in Saskatchewan where they established a communal lifestyle. Their slogan was “ Toil and Peaceful Life”.

I suppose this part of Canada is more representative of Canadian history than Vancouver and the Rockies.

Nor did I realize that the Rockies as we call them in Europe consist of at least four different mountain ranges, stretching from North to South and then down into the USA. And that only the most eastern mountain range is called the Rocky Mountains. The valleys in between these ranges have different climate zones. There are high deserts which are dry and bare. But also fertile valleys with a mild climate which produce an abundance of fruit and even wine. Peaches, apricots, apples, pears, plums and tomatoes in many varieties, they all grow here, and are sold along the roads in small stalls by the farmers.

The beginning

It now seems a long time ago that I left for Vancouver from Amsterdam.

Leaving on 9-11, ten years after the dramatic events, is perhaps not a wise thing to do, but I did anyway. A memorable date, for everybody, but also for me personally.

A friend very kindly takes me to Schiphol, which is helpful as the trains in that direction don’t run due to repairs or whatever. As usual I have plenty of time at Schiphol.  And everybody knows how boring those places are. The security check takes a lot of time, but we take off on time. Unwisely I have chosen an aisle seat, not wishing to have to step over people all the time if I have to get up. Unwisely, as we fly during the day, following the sun, and as it is a clear day there is a lot to see. The young woman sitting near the window immediately draws the shutters across the windows, as she wants to see the films, which are rubbish. So we miss Iceland, and only just over Greenland somebody opens the blinds and there is this spectacular view of icebergs and four glaciers ending in clear blue water full of big chunks of blindingly white ice. I miss the most impressive icebergs and realize how foolish I have been not to choose a window seat. 

Every now and then I go for a little walk to peer through another window. The north of Canada looks rather flat, at first covered in snow, later there are vast uninhabited stretches of brownish land interspersed with a myriad of lakes, winding streams and sometimes a road which is as straight as if drawn by a ruler, with no hardly any signs of habitation and any towns or villages. The roads lead to destinations which are invisible to us, if any. Later the Rockies loom up and that is wonderful. The snow-capped mountains look fantastic, and so near I get the feeling I could touch them. We also get a beautiful view of Vancouver as we circle over it.

After a 9,5 hour flight we land dead on time. If I thought that USA customs were dreadful, here it beats all. It takes one hour and 45 minutes to get through.

But friends of friends are waiting for me, which is so welcoming! I hardly know them and they have taken the trouble to come a long way just to meet me. We drive the spectacular road along the Howe Sound, after having cruised through Vancouver from south to north. The weather is wonderful, and the sky very clear and a deep blue. Even in the sleep deprived state I am in, I enjoy the trip.

We have a meal at Squamish, an Indian settlement with a view of a mountain. Slowly it turns dark while we drive on through Whistler to Pemberton, a small village – called a town here - tucked away in a fertile valley. My trip of discovery has begun.