SaskaPARTY!

Saskatoon is a mid-sized city with approximately 207,000 citizens. We looked this up on the internet because we knew people would ask us when we got back from our small (4 days!) vacation last week. In fact, it has been the third most common question asked of me in the past week. Why yes, I did do a statistical analysis. I lurve the statistics!

The first two most common questions asked of me have been:

1. Why did you go to Saskatoon?
2. Do you know how COLD it gets there in the winter?

Here are the answers.

1. We went to Saskatoon because we had never been there.

(I drove through one time, in 2001, on my way to Rosthern [goodness, did you know they had a website? startling!] to see Sarah’s favourite bar, the one from within which she wrote me letters in 1992 while drinking Molson Dry and playing “I’ve Got Friends In Low Places” on the jukebox. We drove in, toured the highschool, swatted mosquitoes, checked in to the Rosthern Hotel for $35 and there I took this marvellous picture which sums things up nicely:

Hope that’s OK, Sarah. Here’s one of me from the same era to even things out:

It was kind of like Graceland, Rosthern. I’m glad I went; I may never go again.)

We heard Saskatoon was nicer than Regina. And there’s a University there and Saint Aardvark wants to work at the University. You can buy a very nice, old house for $150,000. In Vancouver, $150,000 will get you a parking spot and a medium sized bag of chips.

2. Yes, I have heard about the cold. Therefore, I have decided that if I ever live in Saskatoon, I will wear clothes. I will not allow the border guards to confiscate my sweaters!

What? They don’t take your clothes away when you move to Saskatchewan? Well then what’s the problem?

Yes, I grew up in Vancouver, where becoming fuzzy with mould is more a seasonal concern than freezing. But I’m pretty sure that with the brains God gave me I can figure out how to put on a couple of sweaters, a coat, a muffler, boots with lining, thermal gloves and a nice fuzzy tuque. Perhaps one with a pom pom. Hmm? I’ll breathe through my nose till my nose hairs freeze together and then I’ll breathe through my mouth every so slightly and I’ll remember to plug in my car.

Saskatoon. Day One.
We arrived at the car rental desk to be told that the reservation I made for a compact car rental had been UPGRADED to a PT Cruiser!

I hate PT Cruisers. I think they look dumb; I think they’re pretentious; I want to set them all on fire. However, I love upgrades. Who doesn’t? Being rewarded, however theoretically, for absolutely nothing is like the greatest gift of all. So I smiled and thanked the polite, adorable car rental girl. She was so happy for me – how could I not be happy for me too?

Out to the parking lot we trotted, where Ms. PT awaited. And was she not GOLD. With tinted windows. And. Alberta Plates. The thought of driving around fair Saskatoon looking like an Albertan with terrible taste in automobiles made me squirm, then pout and then drive like an asshole. After all: I was from Alberta.

[I asked my parents about this yesterday and they acknowledge that I have hated Alberta my whole life. I used to sit on the front steps and watch cars go by, hissing at the ones from Alberta. However, my parents can offer no explanation for this and I must just accept it. Ontario sleeps another night, free from my wrath.]

We arrived downtown in about 10 minutes. We locked Ms. PT with a blip of the keyring and an embarrassing honk of her horn. Everyone on the street stared at us. 30 seconds later, we found the Black Duck Freehouse, where we met two Saskatoonians, drank nice beer, ate good beef dip and fish and chips and decided to move in. The man who was cooking the food at the Black Duck had only recently gone to his first dollar store and was amazed at how much crap one could buy. For a dollar.

We spent Night One at the Holiday Inn Express, where an anniversary was being celebrated in the conference room, hunters and golfers abounded and AGAIN we were upgraded! This time to a room with a couch.

The Holiday Inn Express prides itself on its great Thinking Shower. Perhaps you have seen the ads. We saw the ad a while ago and only paid attention because we had already booked the room. Here is a loose translation:

“The Holiday Inn Express takes the irritating choice out of shower heads. They offer you the three most popular settings – pulse, semi-pulse and rain – and you will be so relieved to not have to make the decision that you will think great thoughts in the shower. Because the pressure, so to speak, will be off.”

It was a nice shower, definitely. And I liked the free breakfast. I didn’t like the crappy in-room coffee but this is not unusual.

Saskatoon: Day Two

Our heads swollen with post-shower deep thought, we found Value Village. I bought a fabulous sweater vest, a pair of jeans with a slight tear and a rockstar leather jacket that smells, distractingly, of Value Village. I may take up smoking to make it smell more like a rockstar.

We took Ms. PT over the bridge to Broadway Ave., where the cool kids are. We found the Bulk Cheese Warehouse there and bought some fabulously good samosas and cheese and buns and pepperoni. We sat on a bench near the intersection and ate while listening to the very thorough automated traffic voice say, “The light to cross 10th street is now on.”

Nearby was a neighbourhood with houses in it that we want to buy, many many hipsters who smiled at us! and the University, where we walked around and looked at the pretty buildings and trees. When it was time, we headed back downtown to the Delta Bessborough where we stayed the remaining two nights of our trip.

Now, Delta Hotels. Justify your $8 parking charge, I dare you. Boyfriend, I could have parked in downtown Saskatoon for days for $8. Plus, you lost my reservation and I didn’t get any “Lip Silk” in my spa bathroom package. And there was only one terrycloth robe! SA and I had to share the robe!

The Delta is a lovely old hotel (a castle, actually) right on the South Saskatchewan River. Our room faced the city, had an immaculate bathroom and a super-comfortable bed. (In fact, I’m still in the bed right now, typing on the laptop. My bill is in the thousands of dollars because of this bed.) But – we received a free Globe and Mail on Monday but not Tuesday. The pool was closed for servicing the 2nd night of our stay. And local calls cost $0.95. What’s up with that? Oh and the shower head had, like, 10 choices of spray. Too confusing!

The Holiday Inn Express has my undying love and loyalty. They let me park for free and that is important when you have a gold PT Cruiser.

Saskatoon: Day Three
At 8:00 am I dropped Saint Aardvark at the University where he had a meeting with a man who works there. I drove back downtown in rush-hour traffic and was back at the Delta at 8:03 am.

I walked around downtown and found the best bran muffins ever (at “Gotta Hava Java”) and tolerable coffee. Despite the Delta’s claims of being the Best Ever so Shut Up, they had the same crappy in-room coffee as the Holiday Inn Express. Peh.

Then we got in Ms. PT and drove North. We found Warman, Neuhorst and raspberry Bismark doughnuts. We turned South back to Saskatoon and found a mall and, within it, a liquor store. The mall reminded us of Cloverdale.

(That was a strange thing about Saskatoon. It was like Greater Vancouver, compressed into a littler area. There were neighbourhoods that felt like Burnaby and neighbourhoods that felt like Kitsilano and neighbourhoods that felt like East Van. But it only took 5 minutes to get from one to the next.)

Strange Psychic Moment
We had a discussion at the scary Cloverdale mall about whether we should buy a corkscrew. Because we don’t check our luggage when we fly, we couldn’t bring a corkscrew from home, nor did we want to buy a Saskatoon corkscrew and then leave it behind. And we couldn’t find a corkscrew for a dollar, which was how much I was willing to pay. We decided we would ask the concierge at the hotel for a corkscrew. Seemed like the least they could do, considering.

When we got back to the hotel, our room had been made up and next to the ice bucket which was cooling our leftover cheese from the Bulk Cheese Warehouse, the housekeeper had left a disposable corkscrew.

Amazing.

Here’s another nugget: today I checked Saint Aardvark’s Italian Phrase Of Doom A Day calendar? And for last Monday, the phrase was (roughly translated) “what a beautiful house.” For Tuesday? “This is a nice neighbourhood.” Eerie.

Of course, today it asked, “Did you reserve a tennis court?”

Where was I?

Saskatoon: Day Four: More bran muffins; slightly better again coffee from a different coffee shop…the place with the photos on the walls. We sat by the river and watched a Canada goose float North at a speed faster than most Saskatoon drivers. He honked rhythmically, as though calling for help. Several flocks of geese flew overhead but did not try to help him.

After checking out of the Delta and with many dirty looks over our shoulders we drove back over the bridge to Broadway and I ate the perfect grilled cheese sandwich at a pub called Lydia’s. It was white bread stuffed with processed cheese. And fries. And I had coffee. I was totally working the jacket, man.

Oh but before we went to Lydia’s we spent an hour or so at the DO NOT BROWSE bookstore, (not its real name) owned & operated by The Crankiest Man in Town.(TCMIT)(probably not his real name either)

OK so we saw quite a few used bookstores when we were wandering on days 1 – 3. Most of them weren’t open. We made a point of returning to them on day 4. Went into this first one and this man, he looked up over his glasses from behind his desk which was mounded with books and he said hello. Asked if he could help us find anything.

Saint Aardvark said, “Just browsing, thanks.” You know, as you do when you’re in a used bookstore in a strange city.

“Well, it would be much more useful if you were looking for a specific subject,” said TCMIT.
“Uh,” said SA.
“Because,” said TCMIT, pushing his glasses up and glaring at us, “I have a LOT of books.” He gestured; I looked; sure enough, there were books everywhere.
“Some of the literature is at the front…some is at the back. I’ve got cookbooks, Canadiana, self-help, military, world politics. All over the place.”
“Uh,” said SA.
“And you could be here for days,” said TCMIT, “The last people who said they were browsing? They were here for 3 hours and they left without finding anything interesting.”
“Uh,” said SA.
“So what are you looking for? Just think of a subject. Trust me, it’ll be far more useful to you if you think of a subject.”
“SCIENCE FICTION!” said SA. With shared relief they made for the back of the store and left me at the front to browse unmolested.

The same conversation repeated after about 30 minutes. A woman customer came in alone, said she was browsing, was attacked for it, then when she couldn’t come up with a subject, was told:

“People who say they’re browsing? The only way they’re going to find something that interests them is if it falls off the shelf and hits them on the head. Browsing wastes YOUR time and MINE. Next time you come in, I suggest you think of a subject first.”

I didn’t hear her reply; just the tinkle of bells as the door shut behind her.

Despite not being prepared to shop in his bookstore by thinking of a subject before crossing the threshold, I managed to find several books that interested me.

I was left thinking that 1. Saskatoon rent is so cheap that you can be that curmudgeonly and still stay in business and 2. Hell, TCMIT should just be honest and admit that browsing pisses him off because people who browse don’t spend money. Then he could stop blaming the customers for the fact that he doesn’t make any money and once the blame was shifted, he might acquire some customers. Especially if he refrains from insulting them.

On the other hand, there is something refreshing about a business person not giving a cow’s toss what his customers think of him.

He was notable for his curmudgeonliness. Every single other person we encountered in Saskatoon was the friendliest person in the world. I swear: the sky is bigger than anyone can explain and the people have hearts at least as big as the sky.

Of course we didn’t see any mosquitoes.