The fair was every medical professional's worst nightmare - deep fried everything, pizza on sticks, corn dogs, mini donuts, Dippin' Dots, and if you were willing to wait in the unbelievable lines for the beer gardens, beer. We passed on the rides after consuming our weight in seriously crap food, admired the merchandise (in the shops and just wandering around the fairground) and marvelled at the amount of
So; we came, we saw, we ate ourselves stupid, and then it was chuck wagon time. I can't say that I understand anything more about it than I did before seeing it, partly because there was no handy guide and everything seemed a bit vague, and partly because we were a wee bit more interested in the talent of the audience than the riders... hey, cowboys are distracting, what can I say? The crowd were all decked out in cowboy boots and some crazy loud shirts. Extra points for hot cowboys who can pull off plaid, with points off for aberrations like cut-up sleeveless denim jackets and rats-tails. A bogan by any other name smells just as foul.
Anyway. Chuck wagon racing is kind of like what the Papas from Little House On the Prairie might have done while hopped up on moonshine and bored sh*tless. Each team has a wagon with barrels and things in the back steered by the main guy, and four random dudes on horses whose job is to guide the hitched horses around the figure 8 barrels and then jump on and go like stink for the finish line. Not paying attention to names and such resulted in betting on the team with the prettiest colours or hottest riders. Screaming out "Go Team Rainbow" in the middle of the crowd doesn't win any favors, surprise surprise. But it was fun to watch, and no horses were harmed in the making of our amusement, so a win all round I reckon.
Races were followed by (supposedly) the biggest show on earth. I sometimes immediately resent being told that something is that great, because it's usually a let-down, plus a bit 'toot your own horn'ish. I like to go in with low expectations so I'm bound to be surprised. But it was pretty good overall. The fireworks were in fact big, and the motorbike riders going full pelt around inside a metal ball cage thing were awesome, and there must be a Canadian Idol because the winner got her spangle on to belt out... something that I won't be searching iTunes for. It was slightly disturbing to see the Young Canadians slap their butts and do a little grind in the middle of their cute innocent dances, but I guess there are worse things to make 8 year olds do. One of them might be the next Britney some day, and isn't that a scary image.
Thanks to a group of well-connected locals, the party continued for some of us until the wee hours of the morning, which meant getting up at 6 to go to Banff was struggle-tastic. Definitely worth it though - it's a pretty amazing town and must be even better in ski season. Also probably the most blatantly touristy place we've been to, but in a kinda nice way. The next thing I purchase might have to be another suitcase, at this rate.
Sitting in a cafe looking up at the still-snow-capped mountains that put our hills to shame while having burgers and beer was a terrible way to spend lunch. Hated every minute of it. Especially after beer #2. ;)
Now, I've been to the States before. I know they're into weird food there, like deep fried macaroni, peanut butter cups and cherry flavored Coke. Sometimes it seems like the nation is just one big pregnant woman surreptitiously dipping pickles into ice-cream and then trying to sell it to Ben and Jerry's (FTR, we haven't seen pickle ice-cream... yet).
Some of the food in Canada is a little like that - they definitely put our snack foods to shame - but sometimes it's best to just go with it. Peanut butter on burgers turns out to (apparently) be a good thing, and I'm pretty sure I could eat bagels and cream cheese with or without *real* maple smoked salmon (as in the flaky kind, not the strips of Europe-style rubber they sell in Australia)) any time of the day. Even if the staff at a certain Canadian institution tend to be a few crayons short of a box. If you can successfully order a coffee and food AND get what you ordered without doing some kind of crazy semaphore dance in front of the order board, it's a good day. Also, the available condiments on an average restaurant table put our salt-pepper-'dead horse'-maybe one salad dressing to SHAME. And we found out that if the label isn't written in French as well as English, they can't sell it in Canada, which would suck for international manufacturers. I didn't realise the restrictions applied outside Quebec etc, but it's always handy to know how to say ketchup or fruit bar or 'lift flap to side and pull firmly' in French.
This was supposed to be about more than food. There was also hot-spring swimming (and the horrors of public change rooms with a bunch of very uninhibited people) and a pretty wicked gondola ride up Sulfur Mountain to about 2200 feet above sea level. And squirrels or chipmunks or whatever the heck the little friendly fluffy rat things were. Also, a great day out with good friends where we could just chill out and do what we wanted pretty much when we felt like it, aside from the set time we had to catch the bus home. All in all, a great day despite the air of seediness that took awhile to shake.
Righto. Guess it's time for lunch... Someone pass the chicken-fried-chicken. ;)
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