I had heard the whispered tales of Alberta's springtime weather. From an ancient book, I took a clue: scaling the frozen mountaintops, fjording the river Alph, finding the secret cave, I searched for the lost Xanadu. After breaking my fast on honeydew and drinking the milk of paradise, I rose to this sight: prisoner of the lost Xanadu, because the rental car agency didn't provide me with a scraper.
... read more