Here be bears!

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Churchill, Manitoba, eh? I ate Manitoba perogies at the legendary Gypsy's Bakery, like a good tourist! Perogies are cuisine pauvre- sheet pasta wrapped around a filling of mashed potato and cheese, tasting nothing like either. Orange crumbly mush, served with fried onions, and sour cream and scallions or chives, all floating in some kind of grease. I don't see the appeal, apart from as comfort food or emergency food. The grease was questionable but I was told it was veggie-friendly; although I haven't tasted anything of that consistency for a long, long time and it somehow reminded me of my childhood. Anyhow.

A list! I love lists.

Highlights!
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-TUNDRA. I couldn't shake the sensation of being on the moon. Bizarre, beautiful, harsh land.
-Tundra BUGGY! (An exact hybrid of a monster truck and a school bus.) They drive on pre-eatablished trails so as not to eat into the bears' domain too much. At least they're honest, admitting that there is a corrosive element even to ecotourism. It cost $379 for the day, price includes hotel pick-up and lunch.
-Actual polar bears in the wild. We spotted at final count thirteen, including two families, juvenile females, an orphaned cub (tragic) and some big males.
-Free coffee refills in the Reef Cafe. I loved the Reef Cafe. They serve excellent, hearty, fairly priced breakfasts and their walls are draped in fishing nets- buy a paper polar bear for two dollars (proceeds to the local school), graffiti it and pin it to the net for posterity. It's kooky, welcoming and warm.
-Louise (owner of the Polar Inn, she's a machine, she never stops.)
-Ragged Ass Road (there's a gent living locally in a converted, pimped out schoolbus at that address)
-The very talented and soulful bluegrass duo in the Northern Nights bar.
-Realising that shuffleboard is kind of cool and indeed a real thing.
-People recognising Char and I from the train and going out of their way to greet us in the street, made us feel like minor celebrities. Small, small world up North! (The town has a residential population of only 800 inhabitants.)
-The Hudson Bay Trading Company, The Arctic Trading Company (early and enduring lifelines)
-My super-mega-king-sized bed (sprawling and sleeping diagonally in it- a reward for the nights spent sleeping in clothes in train seats, using my coat as a blanket), At $196 per night, the Polar Inn is far from budget accomodation, but as it is peak bear season and tour groups book early and en masse, I was lucky to have it. The Churchillians also really have to charge such outlandish prices, since it's so difficult to live there; their income derives almost exclusively from bear tourism in October-November and whale tourism in June-July. Meanwhile, the Hudson Bay is frozen over for eight months of the year, the nearest full public hospital is in Winnipeg and the only connection is by rail. Plenty of hardship.
-Talking with Darren for a whole half hour.
-Discovering Irish Car Bombs (a shot of half Baileys, half whiskey, submerged in half a pint of Guinness- tastes like chocolate!)
-Realising how great my second hand mens winter boots are in this climate. Four dollars well spent.
-Karl. Karl drank whiskey from an IV bag, worked on machines a mile beneath the earth, and stood topless outside on the Tundra. In the snow! The man is a tank. A very lovable tank.
-Being in the zebra-striped snow-mobile.
-The "Polar Bear Capital of the World" stamp on my passport from the post office.
-The sense of awe and excitement at meandering back to my hotel at three in the morning, in the snow, the only person around, flushed from the pub and the sudden cold, and knowing that at any moment a fucking POLAR BEAR could just amble past out of the night.
-Gypsy's Bakery; despite my choice of grub, I'm sure it was the best anyone could have done with that recipe...
-Talking to my mother and how bright and cheery she was.
-Caribou and Arctic char on the menu in Gypsy's.
-Meeting Gypsy.
-The locals (so obliging).
-Powder snow. Magic.
-The luxury of a hot bath! My God!
-Little paraffin lamps in all restaurants. Charming, old worldly, practical.
-The theory behing the Canadian Legion (a gentleman's club supporting the Canadian Army)
-Picnic lunch out in the Tundra Buggy; sandwiches, hot veg soup, and cookies- perfect.

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Lowlights.
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No reception on mobile phone, for obvious reasons.
$15 for a packet of cigarettes. Jaysus.
Backpacker tummy.
Perogies! (They were fine, really. I might even try them again one day, if I should ever get nostalgic for the Far North...)
Spending too much money
Sickness
Wussing out of driving the Tundra Buggy (dammit!)
I never made it to the Eskimo Museum, or out to see the planewreck outside the town, or the baited bears (bears kept fat and happy by their proximity to chained dogs who get fed regularly... Worst case scenario, the keeper doesn't come? The bears still eat...)
The Legion in practise. Confusing and dismal.
That Black Eyed Peas song (you know the one!).
Being informed of a resemblance to Meryl Streep.
Realising I actually do look like Meryl fucking Streep.
The bitter, bitter cold
Sleet and driving snow and and stinging rain and slush and puddles and seeping freezing moisture!
The ridiculous size of my bed.

Darren's not here.

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