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Canada has it's fair share of unusual town names, Moosejaw being the first that I've hit. Whilst sitting on the Greyhound from Alberta, the image of a goofy looking horse with horns talking non stop on the seat next to me kept popping into my head. Of course it never came to life, which is clearly a good thing as I don't really want to be that crazy on my travels. After a not so restful sleep rolling along the flatlands through the night, I thought my eyes were having some colour issues when I managed to pry them open. The horizon in front of me was such an intense blend of orange and red, it managed to bring me to my senses rather quickly. I suppose the license plate statement, 'Land of the Living Skies' is really true then. I reached into my bra for my camera (protective habits die hard) and began clicking away. The bus driver to my left was alerted to an awake passenger and we began talking about the riches of life on the prairies. And it was still barely 6am.

Moose Tales Under the Saskatchewan Skies

Coffeecat
2006-08-12 14:08:06

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been one of those Canadian cities that has made me smirk just at the sound of it. But I expect there will be a few more things to smile at. Any girl that likes the look of a man in uniform, will certainly have a few things to smirk at.

Built in 1906, the Turgeon Hostel soon became a relaxing haven. During the walk from Regina's bus station, I had endured the sky throwing buckets of water all over me. Eva, another backpacker that I met whilst staring at the map in the bus station, soon joined me for some food at the Thai restaurant behind the house. We swapped a few travellers tales and then tucked into a good nights' sleep as the only female residents in the hostel. The usual attraction to the local coffee shop Who needs a big sign anyway?!?(Atlantis Coffee Co.) was the initial kickstart to the following day, which then gave Eva and I enough steam to head over to the most worthy attraction in town, the RCMP Museum and training grounds.

I never thought I had a thing for uniforms, with exception to the occassional fireman. Or pilot. Perhaps even a sailor, but a police officer? I don't think I've followed enough rules in my lifetime to be drawn to our law abiding citizens. But being able to watch the marching men hold their holsters as they passed did have quite an effect. Eva and I had had our history lesson in the museum (we had to exit when we were busted for sucking a lollypop where no food was allowed!!) and we were now able to study the new recruits as they tried to impress their superiors with the finest spit polish and stoic stance.

"Hang on a sec Fi, isn't that guy wearing running shoes?" whispered Eva.

"Yyyyyyyyyup, and that 'gun' can't hold anything more than a few bubbles" I giggled.

I was then informed by our host that during the 24 weeks of rigorous training, cadets needed to earn their boots by completing specific lessons. Before throw a bit of paint on the ...