November 2019
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Four Fabulous Days in Oslo!

Me with the Guard.I spent last weekend in Oslo – my first time in Norway – driven to visit by an article I read in The Guardian at the end of March: “Norway’s Kon-Tiki museum to return thousands of Easter Island artefacts.

Given that it is easier for me to visit Oslo than Chile, I decided I needed to make time for Oslo – which ended up being last weekend.

Seriously, I picked the most perfect weekend to visit Oslo: it was warm, it was sunny, it was pleasant. In most respects, it was an advertisement that I ought to move to Oslo. The only thing I would change about my weekend in Oslo is the hotel – I managed to pick one with a dynamite location, but a flaw so obnoxious and annoying that I would be hard pressed to ever recommend anybody stay at it.

In fact, I had such a good time in Oslo, I would be happy to go back – although my wallet will probably prevent me from doing so in the near future: I paid 10€ for a small beer at a restaurant Friday evening.

Kon-Tiki Raft

My Friday consisted of my high priority wishes for Oslo: Kon-Tiki Museum, Fram Museum, the Viking Ship Museum, and – because it was there – the Norwegian Maritime Museum. The Kon-Tiki Museum was far, far, far better than I could have ever imagined. I knew nothing about the Kon-Tiki Museum before going in (I’d even forgotten the core of the article that I’d read; all I knew is that I wanted to see the Easter Island artifacts.) – and came away blown away. What a story, what a collection. Wow. Just wow.

Easter Island Artifacts

Beyond that, the Fram was interesting – although not really my thing. Actually, to be clear, boats are not really my thing. The Kon-Tiki museum and the Easter Island artifacts are glaring exceptions to the rule that Adam Finds Boating Boring. I saw two boats at the Fram, both interesting – but the amount of text on the walls became overwhelming. All the text can be summarized as: “Norwegians are explorers and they love to learn about explorers from all over the world.” The Maritime Museum was, at least for me, the least interesting of the three museums right at the tip of the peninsula. After completing the three museums (and eating lunch), I headed to the Viking Ship Museum – which was dynamite. Three old Viking Ships on display, used as burial troves – what’s not to like.

Viking Ship Museum

At that point, I started to overheat: Oslo’s weather was far more pleasant that I’d been anticipating, so the blue jeans were going from comfortable to retaining way too much heat: I headed back to the hotel, changed into shorts (well, I took a short nap first), and then I gathered everything that I’d brought for the beach and headed out for a beach. I was not alone with this idea: the beach was packed. Finding a square of sand or dirt to put down your towel was a challenge – but I did it – and then spent about two hours in the sunshine reading and enjoying the scenery.

Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art

Saturday and Sunday were spent wandering Oslo, in different ways. Saturday, I wandered through a newly developed neighborhood out to the Tjuvholmen Sculpture Park – the park was disappointingly small, but the walk super pleasant – along with more amazing weather. Sunday started off with a three-hour, small group, guided tour of the city center. which I booked through Nova Fairy Tales.

Nobel Peace Prize Museum

Overall, I won when it comes to the weekend weather. Over two days I saw Vigeland Park with its quirky sculptures, the Nobel Peace Prize Museum, the Opera House, and the Munch Museum. I especially enjoyed the sculpture, “She Lies” – which appears to be an iceberg in front of the Oslo Opera House.

She Lies - hun ligger

By Sunday evening, I had done everything I specifically wanted to do, but had one more day in the city – and I ended up doing two of my favorite things from the trip.

Future Library

First, Monday morning I headed up to the Future Library – a 100-year art project that starts with the growing of a forest, then, in 2114, when the trees are ready, they will be cut down and turned into a collection of books. It was super easy to get to the forest: I hopped on Metro Line 1 and took it to the end – it was an impressively long Metro ride, going from, essentially, sea level, at the Central Station to Frognerseteren, which lies at 469 meters (1539 feet). After getting off the train and starting my hike, for the next two hours, I saw only 11 other people – although it was a Monday and I suspect that one would see many more people over a weekend or holiday.

Future Library

Given that the Future Library project is only 5 years old, the forest is really young and the trees are all short. Hopefully in 5 or 10 years the trees will be a lot taller and substantial, well on their way to becoming enough pulp to make enough paper.

After my hike, I headed to the nearby restaurant, grabbed a bite to eat and then took the metro back to the city center. Once there, I visited the Norwegian Resistance Museum – which looks at how Norwegians fought against the Nazis during occupation. A few years ago, I visited a similar museum in Copenhagen – which did not leave much of an impression. This one did and I can highly recommend it.

Self Driving Bus

My day closed out with a ride on the driverless bus (because, why not) and a nice dinner.

Tuesday I headed back to Berlin.

Barcelona, other things…

Palau de la Generalitat de Catalunya

Barcelona seems like, at first glance, a very nice city to explore – and worthy of returning.

However, it has quite the reputation for pickpockets and other petty theft. My first morning in Barcelona, I stopped by a nearby café, whose waiter informed me that Barcelona had the best pickpockets in the world, better than those in Brazil (where he was from) or London (where he had lived for many years). Then, after getting back to Berlin, I was in a shop, whose owner I chat with regularly, and she informed me about the awesomeness (if that’s the right word) of Barcelona’s thieves – who stole a bag from between the feet of a friend.

Thankfully, I did not get to experience any of this first hand, only through word of mouth.

Basically I had two days on the ground in Barcelona, with my first day devoted to, first, a withlocals “Kickstart Tour with a Local” – ~90 minutes – followed by an hour long wander, then a two hour lunch with a friend, followed by a 4 hour wander through the city, which included finding where my Great Aunt drew her picture.

Basically, Friday was exhausting. By the time I returned to my hotel room, at about 8:30 or 9pm, I was dead.

That said, the Kickstart Tour with a Local was good: my local was an Italian expat who got me oriented to some of the key historic sites around the city center. Given that I had arrived in Barcelona only knowing where my hotel was, where our meeting point was (and even that I got wrong), and where I was meeting the friend before lunch, any information was great.

This was a well spent 32,50€ – I was woefully unprepared for my trip – because after it was over, I had found La Ramblas, seen the state capital, drank an excellent hot chocolate, visited a church, and, most awesomely, seen the Born Cultural Center, which shows off old streets from the 1700s.

El Born CCM

Then, after an hour-long walk along the beach, with its excellent eye candy, I met up with my friend for paella and more walking – somewhat aimlessly, but not really: the weather while I was there was outstanding: the kind of weather where people flood the beaches, enjoy the sunshine, and are generally outdoors. This was all leading up to the point where we found where my Great Aunt drawn her picture.

Barcelona Beach

All of this colored my Saturday: despite going to bed relatively early, I still had an obscenely early wakeup call: I’d booked 08:30 tickets for Casa Batlló, designed by Antoni Gaudí. Despite having an unlimited public transit ticket, I opted to walk there – a pleasant 30-minute walk from my hotel, I then spent about 45 minutes exploring the house. Unfortunately, I was there during renovation, so I could not see the façade and some of the interior spaces were blocked by workers. It was still fun – and I was happy that I paid extra for the 08:30 tickets.

Casa Batlló

Casa Batlló

Thereafter, I was hungry, so I looked on the map and found a brunch restaurant nearby – Brunch & Cake – it had good reviews online and, when I got there, a queue of about 10 people waiting for tables. Since I was willing to sit outside and to share, I ended up at a table with a young couple from Los Angeles – they were both struggling with jetlag and on some kind of European adventure. A few minutes later we were joined by a Londoner living in Istanbul.

I ended up being grateful for her arrival because that prompted the couple to say, “We’re going to London Tuesday! What do you suggest we do?”

By now you (along with the Londoner and I) have made the same wrong assumption, which is to say, that after 4 or 5 days in Barcelona, they were moving onward to London for their next stop.

“We’re going there for the day.”

WTF: flying from Barcelona to London, spending the day, then returning back on a flight in the evening. While this is possible, I’d only recommend it to seasoned tourists who want to do one or two things there – say like me wanting to go see one exhibition in Paris (although, in that case, I did end up spending one night there).

Cascada in Parc de la Ciutadella

Anyhow, after this, I wandered the city a bit, did some reading, then took a long, sincere, nap before spending an hour or two wandering the city again.

Arco de Triunfo de Barcelona

Barcelona seems livable and quite nice – I want to return.

Mystery Solved: Barcelona

Drawing of Barcelona from 1972

For quite a few years, I have had a drawing on my living room wall of a street scene in Barcelona – it is the only piece of art I have that represents a place I had not been. Rather, it was a piece of art drawn by one of my Great Aunts.

This past weekend I set out to rectify the fact that I’d never been to Barcelona – by visiting it. I had a splendid long weekend in the city – more will come later.

The secondary mission was to see if I could figure out where the drawing was made. To my untrained eye, it looked like it was going to be a needle in a haystack, but I sent the drawing off to two people, one of whom thought that it would be identifiable.

So, when I showed up to lunch on Friday, he said, I know the name of the street: Ferran. He also identified the writing on the column to the right of the main door as saying “Calpa” – where I had read it as “caffe” – armed with that information, it was easy to identify: Carrer Ferran 53 is home to “Calpa” – an exclusive leather goods shop.

Amusingly, apparently “Calpa” means “House of Bread” in Catalan – so my host was expecting to find a bakery at the location, so when Google turned up a leather goods shop, we googled again.

When we showed up, I was convinced: the hard structural elements of the façade were right: the high ground floor store front, the arched second floor windows, the balcony above, and the folding wooden windows behind the blinds on the third floor. Even the elements between the arches, the upside-down arches with a nice decorative pattern are right.

That said, now that I’ve had time to reflect a bit more – I think that I was misreading the drawing’s location a tiny bit before: I thought that the gate was over the main door to the building, now I think that it is actually between the front of the building and the actual door to Calpa – this makes more sense as the window behind the gate could be construed as showing purses and other leather goods, just like the window to the right that runs off of the page.

Calpa in Barcelona

Unfortunately, as you can see, there was a truck parked in front of the building at the critical spot – so it was a bit difficult to imagine and to get the right photograph. Further, the gate was open – since it was during business hours.

Regardless, I am thankful to my friend in Barcelona – and his friends – for correctly identifying the location of my Great Aunt’s drawing.

I will return to Barcelona again – not only did I find the city fun and interesting, but I also want to buy something from Calpa.

Initially I thought that I would try to get a room at the hotel directly across the street from the shop, but TripAdvisor reviews of the hotel suggest that I would not like the hotel. Otherwise, I would ask if I could get a room on the first or second floor that matches the view of the drawing.

Four Days in Lima


Earlier this month it was time to take a break from the cold and dark that is wintertime in Berlin – For reasons that are a bit unclear, even to me, I split my vacation in two, spending the first part in Lima, Peru, and the second part in South Carolina.

The Lima part of my vacation was super interesting – I should have planned far more time in Lima and although my hotel was in Miraflores, a super neighborhood, and even upgraded me to a suite, it was probably not the right choice for me. But enough about that, let’s focus on the positives:

Museo Larco

First, the Museo Larco was absolutely, positively, outstanding: what an amazing collection of artifacts, especially the ceramics. The two handled jars were beautiful. While it doesn’t quite measure up to the bling of Bogota’s Gold Museum, it holds its own.

Museo Larco

Second, the Circuito Magico Del Agua was fun: a park filled with fountains, with colorful lights at night, and a light show when dark – quite fun. Quite crowded – hard to capture on camera. Due to the timing of flights to/from the States, I ended up doing this on my last evening in Lima, when I had more than 12 hours to kill between check-out at the hotel and my flight to Houston.

Circuito Magico Del Agua

Circuito Magico Del Agua

Circuito Magico Del Agua

I use Haku Tours for my trip to the fountain park and to, thirdly, see a shanty town – I misplayed the shanty town because I perceived that I was short of money, and I was slightly, so I didn’t buy gifts for children in daycare. Regardless, the tour of the shanty town was illuminating. Miraflores is a rich part of town and can afford to water its lawns, grow very pretty flowers, and make the area green. However, most of the population lives in poorer parts of town and the city is, at its core, a desert, so greenery is quite limited. Realizing the difference between the area where my hotel was located and where the vast majority of Liam’s residents live was a bit shattering – but also expectation adjusting in a good way.


Saturday, my first day in Lima, while adjusting to the time difference, I wandered along the cliffs above the Pacific Ocean – going from the Faro La Marina (the Miraflores Lighthouse), through the Parque del Amor and on to Larcomar, which has a shopping mall hidden underneath it. This was an extraordinarily beautiful part of town – which ultimately mislead me regarding the beauty of the entire city (as I’ve already noted).

Faro La Marina

Probably the most pointless (and excessively expensive) thing I did was the Lovely Night Food Tour, which sort of covered the Miraflores and Barranco districts. As I was the only person who signed up for the tour, I was given the option to cancel it or to pay extra and do it as a private tour. In retrospect, I should have canceled it and gotten my money refunded, then gone out for a nice dinner near my hotel on my own. However, in the 3-5 minutes I had to decided, it seemed like a good idea.

Overall, I wish I had more time in Lima and more time to explore Peru. So while my feeling is that I’ve done Bogotá and have no need to return, Lima needs more time.

Bogotá for the holidays…


Earlier this year it dawned on me that the configuration of Christmas and New Year’s landing on Tuesdays meant that I could take from December 22nd through January 1st off – 11 days – using exactly two vacation days.

Jesus with a rabbit!

Surely anybody who knows me, knows that I look at this as an opportunity to go as far away as I can. I started exploring my options, doing serious research on South Africa (Durban – on the coast), Australia (Perth, Brisbane, and Sydney), and Cape Verde. After much dithering, I finally settled on South Africa, only to discover that there were no longer frequent flier tickets available, so I had to hop back into destination determination mode, this time looking at Bogotá, the third highest national capital, after La Paz and Quito (been there, done that – I think you can smell the start of a new list for me to complete).

The choice of Bogotá was aided by the fact that Avianca was starting a flight from Munich to Bogotá in late November: award seat availability was wide open – 160,000 miles later I had reservations at the pointy end of the 787. At 12 hours and a red-eye each way, I decided the opportunity to sleep lying flat and in relative comfort was worth it.

Further, as I would be arriving on December 24th, I decided it would probably be wise to book myself into a full-service hotel so that should Bogotá grind itself to a complete halt with 100% of the restaurants closed, I would at least have the back-up option of room service. I burned Hilton points and reserved a room for a total of 7 nights.

So my itinerary looked as follows: I arrived on December 24th at 4am, stayed 7 nights, then departed on December 31st at 10:45pm.

Not only did I get to spend time some place warm and sunny, I would also neatly avoid my least favorite day of the year in Germany: Armageddon New Year’s Eve.

As I write this, I am winging my way back to Europe, feeling a bit melancholy for specific reasons that I will not divulge on the blog – but also having experienced midnight onboard a plane. The friendly flight attendants passed out Champaign shortly before midnight, then announced the arrival of 2019 (twice), followed a few minutes later by what I can only assume is a traditional Colombian song to welcome in the New Year. It was sweet, endearing, and fun.

With respect to my time in Bogotá, this was not my most densely action-packed vacation, but I will blame the combination of being there for the Christmas holidays and the fact that Bogotá is at 2600 meters (8530 feet) – which threw me for a serious loop the first 24 hours after landing and continued to noticeably affect me throughout my time there.

I did take four professional tours of Bogotá:

The Bogotá Graffiti Tour, which I took on December 25th, along with 25 other people looking for something to do in Bogotá on Christmas Day, was a densely packed 2.5-3-hour tour of graffiti in the Candelaria area of Bogota; in theory we were supposed to also look at graffiti in downtown, but we never quite made it. The tour guide was passionate about graffiti, taking about its history. She claimed it started in the last century, but I would be willing to bet that the Romans would disagree. She also defended tagging as legitimate – and while I can see how youthful tagging can, in a few select cases, lead to artists who improve the visual landscape of a city, tagging itself is something I abhor.

Bogotá Graffiti

Bogotá Graffiti

Weaving Peace, a specialty, individual, tour offered by Impulse Travel, is a tour focused on how Colombia is recovering from ~60 years of violence. The tour was excellent, including stops at a chocolate shop that is the outcome of local farmers moving from cocaine to cocoa. On the tour, I got to meet the son of one of the leaders and we spent 45 minutes to an hour talking about the history of conflict. We also stopped at a coffee shop run by a remote community that has made a similar shift from poppies to coffee, spending another 45 minutes talking about the community and how its indigenous citizens are reclaiming their identity and language. What really shocked me, ultimately, is how brief the history of cocaine and poppies are in Colombia. Following a brief visit to the reconciliation memorial, we went to a restaurant where the food is all locally sourced, with the chef explaining each dish and where the ingredients came from. I would enthusiastically endorse this tour.

The “De La Mesa” Bogota Food Tour was also quite good – there were 6 of us wandering the streets of Bogotá sampling local foods, including, first, coffee, followed by chocolate. It was much to my amusement that we went to the same chocolate shop that I had been to on the Weaving Peace tour – but the information presented was substantially more superficial—but given the pricing differences, group size differences, and available time, this was fine. The food tour continued –including a decent amount of historical context: while it was scheduled to last 3 hours, ultimately it was 3.5 hours. I should have taken notes – but I believe we ended up visiting four more spots. Regardless, I was stuffed. I could not finish everything presented to me – which I think was true for every member of the group. At US$55, this tour is an excellent value and well worth the effort. However, I would skip breakfast and not make dinner plans.

Guatavita Lagoon

I also visited the Guatavita Lagoon and Zipaquirá Salt Cathedral, again arranged by Impulse Travel. I was picked up from my hotel and driven directly to the Guatavita Lagoon, which is a lake high in the mountains (hello 3100 meters!). It was here that the indigenous people used to leave gold offerings to the gods – the lake was then partially drained by the colonizing Europeans – in a way that destroyed the ability for the lagoon to ever fill completely back up. My tour guide was outstanding – we ended up meeting another English language tour guide and traveler – we hung behind the main group getting information about the history in English. The lake is only accessible with an official tour, with official tours only in Spanish – both tour guides find this language limitation incredible, noting that a few years ago the official tours were offered in either Spanish or English and that they did not understand why the official English tours were eliminated. Following the lagoon, we went to Zipaquirá, where we had a lovely meal in a meat restaurant, before heading to the Zipaquirá Salt Cathedral. What I’ll say about the Salt Cathedral is that it’s amazing what happens when the creative juices of miners are channeled. There were many beautiful vistas within the mine – but as an atheist, much of this was lost on me: multiple carved Jesuses and crosses, all made of salt is nice, but not something I need to dwell upon.

Zipaquirá Salt Cathedral

Beyond these professional tours, I did some independent wandering. The Gold Museum is absolutely outstanding – I cannot say enough nice things about it. It’s a very good idea to show up early, just after it opens. When I got there, the queue to get in the door consisted of one person (me!), when I left the queue was probably 20-30 minutes long. The museum is overwhelming – and it is impossible to look at everything, unless you plan to spend the entire day in the museum. I also passed through the Botero Museum, which, if you like his style of art, is amazing. It’s not really my thing, so my visit was relatively short.

Museo de Oro

My next to last day in Bogotá, I visited the top of Monserrate, one of the mountains surrounding the city. Normally there are two reasonable ways up the mountain: aerial tram or funicular. The aerial tram was out of commission, so it was an hour long wait to ride up the funicular. There is a walking path up the mountain, but there was no way I could make it, given the elevation.

The rest of my time in Bogotá was spent wandering… the city is quite good for that.

Happiness fulfilled.

Two years in… it gets getting worse

It’s crazy to think that two years have gone since Trump was elected President.

The Republican Party must be proud of what they have brought to the world: a maniacal president who has nothing to do with what I always thought was the party’s core values: self-righteous Christian, backward thinking, limited taxation, anti-choice, assholes.

They’ve managed to do a whole lot worse than what I had assumed the worst was – and every morning that I wake up, I’m always shocked at how much lower they have stooped.

At this point, the bar is so low that a cockroach would have trouble getting under it.

Our president is a pussy grabbing, immigrant pepper-spraying, conspiracy theorist.

He doesn’t seem to have a grasp of reality. About the only thing he is good at is trying to spin television interviews in the way that sleezy property developers do – but he’s finding it frustrating because the only people gullible enough to believe his bullshit are his legion of followers and Fox News.

Truth no longer matters, it’s only spin and it is awful spin: immigrants are dangerous, Democrats are bad, Republicans not falling in line are disloyal.

Whatever happened to the country of immigrants, with a loyal opposition, and facts that matter?

I’m kind of in a ranty-mood right now – I’m looking forward to the national nightmare ending.

20: Matthew “Matt” Wayne Shepard – *December 1, 1976; †October 12, 1998

The Editors of the Casper Star-Tribune, Wyoming’s most important newspaper, sought letters, asking, “What does Matthew Shepard’s story mean to you?” I felt that I had to write a letter; I have no idea if it will be published.  In case it is not published, I put it here, in full, on this, the 20th anniversary of Matthew Shepard’s death.

Dear Editor,

On the twentieth anniversary of Matthew Shepard’s murder, I will do what I do every year: pause to reflect and remember how his story transformed my life.

In October 1998, I had just moved from the University of Wyoming to Indiana University. I started fully exploring who I was: Laramie had been, for me, too limiting. Bloomington offered me a chance to find myself, to discover what it was like to live life out and proud. In Laramie, the number of people who I had come out to could be counted on one hand. In Bloomington, the number was increasing rapidly.

When the news about Matthew Shepard initially broke, I had to read between the lines to divine that he was beaten because he was gay.

For somebody just coming fully out of the closet, this was brutal. It affected me to the core – I literally crawled into my closet and cried.

Beyond my immediate visceral reaction, I was profoundly impacted: As a teacher, diverse sexualities are incorporated into examples to signal openness and tolerance to students. As a writer, gender-inclusive language substitutes for traditional sexist language. As a human, it taught me compassion and empathy for my fellow humans, to appreciate and embrace all of our differences and diversity.

Life handed me a future I could not have predicted. Berlin is now my home, a city that is, in many ways, the diametric opposite of Wyoming. What astonishes people is my vocal support for the Wyoming Cowboys; nobody cares that I am gay.

Ultimately, I wish I did not know Matthew Shepard’s name: he is famous for the worst possible reason, because he was brutally murdered. However, his legacy, as I embody it, is alive and well: I am a better human because of him.

Adam Lederer
UWyo ’96, ‘98
Berlin, Germany 

My Matthew Shepard Collection

Five books and a t-shirt – all related to Matthew Shepard.

For historical reference, see 2004200520062007200820092010201120122013,  201420152016, 2017, or any of the many times he’s been mentioned on my blog via a search for Matthew Shepard.

Prince Albert National Park: Simultaneously disappointing and amazing!

When I announced that I was going to Saskatchewan, more than one friend assumed that I would chose to visit Regina – mainly because Regina is about the only legit rhyme for another English word. So, while these friends were right to go to the gutter, they forgot about Prince Albert National Park, which must be the most misleading name for a national park, ever.

Prince Albert National Park: Spruce River Highlands Trail

In my imagination, there would be PAs running amok wherever I turned – and I thought it would be amazing to capture a PA in front of a sign that said “Prince Albert National Park” – unfortunately I do not have a PA, nor do I know anybody who has one, who I would be willing to ask to join me in PANP to pose for said picture. Thus, my entry into PANP lacked the excitement of my dreams. However, I did get a standard English/French bilingual admission ticket to the park, and I must say that the name of the park drifts substantially between English and French – 900ish kilometers and one province, to be exact.

Prince Albert National Park Entry

While my piercing gaze over the landscape did not detect any PA, it did detect incredibly vivid fall colors: some of the nicest and brightest yellows and reds that I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Prince Albert National Park might be the most beautiful place that I’ve seen in 2018 (although, given my travels, there is some hearty competition).

Prince Albert National Park: Spruce River Highlands Trail

It was starting to rain semi-seriously my first day in the park – so I hiked about a kilometer at one stop in order to climb a tower to enjoy a beautiful vista, then another tower to enjoy another beautiful vista, before landing at the Hawood Inn, in Waskesiu Lake, a town in the park, with hotels, shops, and services. There were also (expensive) restaurants – so I was doubly happy to have brought some basic foods from a Safeway along the way.

Prince Albert National Park: Height-of-Land Tower

After checking in and being upgraded (my first room had an air conditioning unit whose parts were disassembled), I wandered around Waskesiu Lake for an hour or two. As I was there in the shoulder season – by about two weeks and on weekdays – the town was dead. Some of the shops were already closed for the season and those that were open were selling summer clothing at substantial discounts.

What I really, really, wanted was stuff that said Prince Albert – yet there was only one men’s t-shirt that said this, and it was sold by the Parks Canada gift shop. I was completely blown away by the fact that the name and its double/triple meanings were not exploited at all. I desperately wanted to buy lots of things exploiting the awesome name, so to come away with a single t-shirt and a deck of cards was disappointing, although a blessing for my bank account.

All of that aside, I hiked a total of about 8 kilometers on Thursday – my one full day for the park. One day was not enough time. I should have extended my time in the park by another full day, especially given how disappointing Saskatoon ended up being.

Prince Albert National Park: Greay Owl Trailhead

My first highlight Thursday was watching a wolf cross the road about 500 meters ahead of me – I rode that emotional high as I drove down a dirt road to the Grey Owl trailhead. The road itself was fine the first 10km, at which point it became a little less packed and was bordering muddy at points. This kind of driving is not my favorite. When I got to the trailhead, I walked briefly down the path, but between the rain that was threatening to turn the road into mud, signs warning of bears sighted in the area, and a rock with a warning that a bear had been seen Sunday at 2:30 (albeit, the specific Sunday was unspecified), I headed back toward civilization, but not before stopping at a few places to hike and enjoy Prince Albert National Park.

Prince Albert National Park: Greay Owl Trailhead

The Narrows Peninsula Trail was a lovely 3 kilometer loop that offered excellent views of Waskesiu Lake – really, trying to apply words to the scenery is pointless as English offers up only a small number of words to cover such a range of beauty.

Prince Albert National Park: Narrows Peninsula Trail

Prince Albert National Park: Narrows Peninsula Trail

Prince Albert National Park: Narrows Peninsula Trail

From there, I headed south, stopping at the Point View – with another nice view on Waskesiu Lake.

Prince Albert National Park: Point View

After that, I passed a hunter on the road: what can I say about this hipster, other than the fact that (s)he appears to be eating free-range organic fowl, thus meaning (s)he fits into Prenzlauer Berg perfectly.

Fox and Goose

The next hike was the Waskesiu River Trail, a nice 2.5km wander around the river flowing from Waskesiu Lake.

Prince Albert National Park: Waskesiu River Trail

Prince Albert National Park: Waskesiu River Trail

Prince Albert National Park: Waskesiu River Trail

I concluded with the Boundary Bog Trail, a short 2km through a bog.

Prince Albert National Park: Boundary Bog Trail

Prince Albert National Park: Boundary Bog Trail

At that point, I was toast – but I returned to town and took another walk around town, this time stopping in the one shop that had been closed on Wednesday but was open on Thursday.

In retrospect, I wish that I had one more day in Prince Albert National Park – the scenery was outstanding. I would happily have lost a day from Saskatoon in favor of PANP. Not only that, but I would go back to PANP: it’s that good.

My trip timing was perfect: Canadian kids start school at the beginning of September and during the week the park is empty, thus giving you lots of space and the ability to get away from it all. The fall colors (at least this year) were in full force – lending another layer of beauty that just cannot be beat.

The only thing I would have done differently is that I would have packed slightly warmer clothing – my attire Thursday consisted of a thin woolen undershirt, a standard t-shirt, and my normal weight woolen hoodie. While this was fine, it was, perhaps, a smidge too light. Thursday’s weather was running about 6°C and misty – but it never actually rained heavily. Had it snowed (which was in the forecast), I suspect I would not have enjoyed my day nearly so much.

Saskatoon, from best to worst

I’m fresh back from a trip to Saskatchewan – my ninth Canadian province – meaning that I have one to go, plus the three territories. My explicit goal is the complete the provinces, but I am not sure I will attempt the territories: while the Yukon and Northwest Territories are easy, Nunavut is shockingly expensive to get to – at least whenever I examine ticket prices.

The last few days were spent in Saskatoon: I mainly like city trips and I expect cities to be interesting, dynamic places. This does not describe Saskatoon. Generally speaking, Saskatoon was a series of disappointments – high expectations that were, at best, unfulfilled. However, there were some things that either met expectations or exceeded them—so starting with the positive:

Billy-Ray Belcourt and Chelsea Coupal

Billy-Ray Belcourt and Chelsea Coupal on the stage. If they look cold, it is because it was cold.

Billy-Ray Belcourt – Sometime in the last year, Bill-Ray crossed my radar and I ordered up his poetry collection, which made its way to me in Berlin. It probably spent two months on my physical-paper objects to read pile before I realized that Billy-Ray would be speaking at the Saskatoon Word on the Street literary festival while I was going to be in Saskatoon. I pulled the book of poetry out of the stack and started reading. Poetry is something that I typically struggle with – but his work penetrated my consciousness and I found myself laughing and sympathizing.

Sunday ended up being a rather cold and dank day: generally misty, it was not a day to be outside, especially carrying around books. As such, the crowd at the poetry reading was actually quite large considering: about 30 of us sat/stood under the shelter of a tent listening to Billy-Ray and Chelsea Coupal, a poet from rural Saskatchewan, read from their collections. It ended up being a lively reading with the crowd clearly enjoying both poets – although I was under the vague impression that Billy-Ray had a larger fan-base at the talk.

John Diefenbaker Campaign Material

Diefenbaker Canada Centre – Throughout Canadian history, there has been only one Prime Minister from Saskatchewan, John G. Diefenbaker, who served from 1957-1963. Given that I enjoy visiting Presidential Libraries in the US, I thought it might be fun to visit the Canadian equivalent. Shockingly, as I understand it, there is only one – so I have completed my quest to visit the “libraries” of Canadian Prime Ministers. The exhibits far exceeded my expectations: it covered the life of Diefenbaker pretty thoroughly (as far as I can tell), talking about his hopes and aspirations for the country. I spent just under an hour there, which was more than enough to cover it all.

Mi Casa – Saskatoon’s highest rated Mexican restaurant is actually a Mexican/Central American restaurant and was well worth the trip. I was the only customer who did not speak Spanish – which says something about the customers that the place attracts. The food was good and had nuanced flavors that were outstanding. I would highly recommend stopping by there.

Tim Horton's Breakfast

Tim Hortons – Face it: the coffee at Tim Hortons is not the best on the planet, but it’s fine. The donuts and breakfast items are great. The service is fast. I ended up stopping by Tim Hortons twice while in Saskatoon because it is a known quantity and it’s a great third space.

Maple Leaf Lounge – Talk about lucky, Air Canada opened its newest MLL at the Saskatoon Airport on Friday, September 14: a few days after I got here, but a few days before I departed. The MLL is not huge, but its staff is incredibly friendly and the space is suitably dignified.

Roasted Nuts

Saskatoon’s Farmers’ Market – I’ll say that the Farmer’s Market met expectations. If I had a kitchen and/or was staying in Saskatoon longer, I would have enjoyed it a whole lot more. Considering my traveling circumstances, it was worth a gander, but while the pies looked good, they were not going to go into my suitcase heading home.

So… now that you’ve read about the things that met or exceeded expectations, the rest ranges from mildly disappointing to so completely disappointing that I wanted my money back.

South Saskatchewan River

Remai Modern Museum – this is supposedly a gem of an art museum, but I found it lacking in multiple ways. Architecturally speaking, the architect was not kept in control: the building has extremely high ceilings (which I suppose might be necessary in parts of a modern art museum) – attempting to give a grand impression. I guess it worked, I felt like it was a grand space. One very strange choice were the doors into each gallery, which were glass, tall, and had a VERY LOUD CLANK every single time somebody opened it. I suppose it’s a way to wake up the bored security guards, but in an otherwise relatively quiet space, it scared the crap out of me each time.

With respect to its art, unfortunately for me, there’d been a power outage the night before and two of the exhibits weren’t working. No discount on the price, just a vague apology. After spending an hour wandering around, I think I can say that their current exhibitions did not speak to me – and, in what I think is a very strange choice, they had a display of work by Picasso. Apparently, they have a large collection of Picasso prints (I forget the details). Given that I don’t particularly care for Picasso’s work, I can safely say the gallery was wasted on me.

Ukrainian Museum of Canada – This was a huge disappointment: Saturday, it was closed for their annual meeting (I’d some how missed that detail on their website, so perhaps my fault that I didn’t notice) and it is only open on Sundays in the Summer. September is not summer. Thus, I did not get to see the museum.

Pizza Pirates – the cold, wet, blustery weather deterred me from going outside Saturday evening. Further, I suspected that I was coming down with a cold (thankfully a wrong impression), so I found the highest rated pizza delivery restaurant, clicked onto their website and was stopped cold: they were not open! Naturally, I thought this was odd: it was 7:30pm on a Friday night. Surely a pizza restaurant would be open. Double-checking their website, they were open – so why was my online order not going through? I realized it was because my computer is set to Berlin time and at 3:30am on a Sunday morning, they would be closed. So, I adjusted my computer clock and my order went through.

The resulting pizza, the Veggie Pirate, was interesting. The toppings were Ginger. Coriander, Mushrooms, Green Peppers, Hot Peppers & Onions; ultimately a decent combination. Unfortunately, the crust was too much: too bready, too much there. I should have ordered the thin crust version. The pizza completed its main purpose in life, which was to ensure I ate something at some point Saturday evening. Beyond that I would keep trying pizzas in Saskatoon – as a college town, it ought to have good pizza somewhere.

Bon Temps Café – I kind of blame myself for thinking there might be a substantially OK Cajun restaurant in Saskatoon. I was wrong. There is not a substantially OK Cajun restaurant in Saskatoon. There’s a place that serves what it thinks is Cajun food but is actually far away from anything served in New Orleans.

South Saskatchewan River from Wanuskewin

Wanuskewin Heritage Park: the website and reviews for this Native American center looked outstanding and I was super excited at the prospect of visiting it. To call this thing a dud would be unfair to unexploded ordinance everywhere. After paying $8.50 to get in, I got to watch a 15-minute film that was, at best, uninformative. At worst, it was one of those films that asks a lot of questions but does not provide answers, a pseudo Socratic-style of introductory film. I then went into the gallery, which featured works by two artists – there were, at most, a dozen artistic objects scattered about the room – one of which was clever, the rest forgettable. The $8.50 also provided access to a network of trails around the substantial grounds of the museum. If one wanted, one could spend a couple hours wandering around the grounds, but it was cold and blustery, so I limited the trails that I walked. I kind of wanted my admission fee back. The last time I had that feeling was when I visited the Superman Museum in Metropolis, Illinois, about a decade ago.

Aydens Kitchen and Bar – I booked myself a table at what appeared to be Saskatoon’s best restaurant for Friday evening. If Ayden’s is the best joint in town, then the town is most unlucky. I’d reserved through Open Table, so when Open Table asked me to leave a review, I did:

Ayden seems to have a pretty good reputation — which is what drove me to try it on Friday evening. Clearly, while the restaurant aspires to be something outstanding, it isn’t and it doesn’t have a clue on how to get there. On the food front, the flavors are creative, but not necessarily good. The Poke was adequate — nothing special, while the Beef Belly was not really memorable. For some reason, I foolishly decided to order dessert, the “Chocolate” — which managed to not be what I thought it would be.

Service wise, the place is a disaster: each member of the wait staff oversees too many tables, resulting in service that is, at best, inattentive and unaware. I have no complaints about my waitress – she was working hard, but was covering at least five tables, probably more.

When I pointed out that they’d overcharged me for dessert, it was taken off the bill — so on that front they were apologetic and responsive, but I had the sense that the restaurant has too many things going on and that attention to detail, which is critical at fine dining restaurants, is severely lacking because there are too many details to be tracked.

Been readin’

Like always, I am often found with a book in my hand – recently including two actual books (like on paper), and one on my Kindle that is actually a collection of three works by one author.

There is a common theme through the three books that I’m reading.

Starting up with a recommendation by a friend in Hamburg, I read Late Nights on the Air by Elizabeth Hay – set in a radio station at Yellowknife. The book reminded me of (at least in the first part) of works by Tom Bodett – at the End of the Road (among others). It’s really hard for me to qualify how – other than the fact that both authors capture some kind of intrinsic essence of living in the rural, cold, north. The flashbacks I had to the body of Tom Bodett’s work caught me off guard – making me wish I had copies of his books to re-read. It’s been way too long.

The book took a somewhat dark turn at one point – something that caught me off-guard, but actually dovetailed the book in the collected works.

The largest one, The Collected Works of Grey Owl, is a startling work: writing in the 1930s, Grey Owl is remarkably perceptive about the environment. In fact, the book sounds like it was written today:

I’m currently reading about his two pet beavers – and am not really ready to say anything about it, other than the idea of having two pet beavers is cute.

He also says some nice things about his home, Canada:

All of this, by the way, is not meant to ignore some of the inate controversy about Grey Owl himself: Grey Owl is actually an Englishman, Archibald Stansfeld Belaney. It’s not clear to me if he bestowed the name upon himself (thus meaning cultural misappropriation) or if it was bestowed upon him by a local native. I’m not a scholar in this area and I do not want to wade into this mess – rather, I want to focus on the fact that he is a transformational figure in Canadian conservation/environmental history, changing Canada for the better.

The third book I’m reading is a collection of poems by Billy-Ray Belcourt, This Wound is a World. Poetry is not something that generally speaks to me, but I decided to take a whack at it. Again, it’s not what I normally read, but his poetry seems to work for me. If you want to know more about who he is, his bio, stolen from his website, says:

Billy-Ray Belcourt (he/him) is a writer and academic from the Driftpile Cree Nation. He is a Ph.D. student and 2018 Pierre Elliott Trudeau Foundation Scholar in the Department of English & Film Studies at the University of Alberta; he is at work on a creative-theoretical project called “The Conspiracy of NDN Joy.” He is also a 2016 Rhodes Scholar and holds an M.St. in Women’s Studies from the University of Oxford and Wadham College.

There’s a common theme running between these three works – all represent, on some level, my next vacation.