The Hyperion Chronicles

The Hyperion Chronicles
“I wouldn’t pay that much for Tigger!”

#389 Mr. Buffalo

In Part 1, I told about my journey to Ottawa, and all the adventures that happened therein. Now I’m there, and I find out that pretty much the whole town is crazy. Beautiful, but crazy.

Part 2: Seven Dollar Water

After landing in Ottawa I was taken to The Westin, right across the street from Parliament. Westins are nice to begin with, but this was Posh City. My room was incredible!

On the 21^st floor I could look out and see all of historic Ottawa. All the buildings looked like 17^th and 18^th century. I had no idea that any part of Canada was cool! (Who knew?) Then there were these other buildings that looked like (I am not making this up) the Cinderella Castle at Disney World.

I have to pause for a moment to talk about the stuff in the room available to buy. We’ve all heard the mini-bar jokes, but until the Westin I always assumed people were exaggerating.

They weren’t.

There was this can of Pringles—not the big can, mind you, but the little mini quarter can: 4 bucks. There was a small toothpaste, toothbrush, razor and shaving cream; enough for like one or two days; 12 bucks. There was an Eeyore Pez dispenser with three pez packs for 9 bucks!

When I first got in the room I saw these two bottles of fancy looking water on the desk. Sweet! I thought. They left me cool water. I was just about to crack one open when a clerk stopped me.

(when it costs that much, it better do a whole lot more than refresh me)

“Those bottles of water are 7 dollars apiece.” He said.

“You must be joking.”

“No, and the government won’t pay for it.” Normally I’d make some joke here about how cheap the Cannucks are, but 7 bucks for a bottle of water? How can you blame them?

During the day it was pretty sweet, but at night….fugeddabout it.

(The Lord Elgin Hotel, just one of the many sights I could see out of my window)

I’ve never been a scenery kind of guy, but I would spend hours just staring down at the majestic downtown. There was even this eternal flame thing right outside one of the parliament buildings, that was explained to me that it Canada’s version of the Statue of the Liberty.

One of the most incredible things was how people walked and drove right by parliament without any impediment. I know there was security, but you couldn’t see it and it didn’t seem to stop anyone from just driving by. I myself could have taken out all of Parliament with a SAM; not that I’m into that sort of thing and I don’t mean to even suggest it. I’m just pointing out that there was very little security, and lots of freedom to move around.

I found it both kind of naïve and kind of sweet. Canada hasn’t had the same problems with their leaders (no assassination attempts that I’m aware of), but then again, until recently I gather that people drove and walked right by Pennsylvania Avenue too. Sadly, all of the freedom will evaporate as soon as Canada gets touched by global terrorism or just nut with a grudge, but enjoy it while it lasts, I say.

While the area may have been relatively unrestricted, that doesn’t mean I was. Because of the top-secret nature of my trip, I was given a security detail, the Canadian equivalent of the Secret Service. Like all their protectees, I had a code name, but I only overheard it once by accident.

I left my room one night to get some ice, and I heard a one of the security men speak softly into a radio: “Mr. Buffalo is on the move.” I wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not, but I decided to just be flattered instead. From now on, I think I’m going to check myself into hotels under this name.

Like I told you earlier, I can’t go into much detail about my trip, but I can share some cool details. One night we went down to a Scottish Pub. They tried to talk me into Haggis, but I was leery.

This happened to be the night that the Ottawa Senators clinched a victory in their first round playoff series. The place was nuts. I subscribe to the theory that you never want to be in a city when the home town team loses, so I was cheering mightily that Ottawa be victorious.

At one point some drunken Montreal Canadians fans came in and got I a fight with the Ottawa Senators fans. Both sides were obnoxious, but the Ottawa fans were clearly the instigators of the brawl. The police were called, but instead of arresting the guilty Ottawa fans, they threw the Montreal fans out on the street! The wait staff (who all had to wear kilts) turned and did a “William Wallace” to the departed Montreal fans, which is to say they mooned them. (Sadly, all of them were wearing shorts underneath the kilts, but you can’t have everything.)

Another time my group asked the concierge for a recommendation for Italian, and we were told that “La Tratoria” was considered the best Italian restaurant in Ottawa. When we got there I was instantly uncomfortable. It was one of those snooty places, and snooty is fine, but I think it works better with a French place.

I was very uncomfortable. The tables were small, the art on the walls was incomprehensible, and the menus looked very artsy, with food combinations that were outrageously expensive and promised to be chef’s creations, which usually means small portions. After talking it over, we skedaddled out of there, back to another more homey Italian place.

The moment I walked in I knew I’d found my people. There was a Spaghetti Factory feel, and tablecloths like you’d find in a mom and pop Italian restaurant. Like I told our waiter, “It isn’t Italian if there isn’t tacky shit all over the wall.”

Even the bathroom was sweet; so clean I could eat there, and the soap was this really cool blue foam. I wish all bathrooms had it.

After a wonderful dinner of Minestrone Soup and Veal Marsala with Linguini Alfredo (only marred slightly when one in our party ordered calamari), we returned to the hotel. This was the last night before I returned, and there was still a lot of work to be accomplished.

If only I’d known what was coming, I’d have never left that restaurant. Even now, you’d find me taking down a baked lasagna and telling everyone about the blue foam.

End of Part 2

Up next: Part 3, where Darkness descends, and I run into an old friend.

Hyperion
May 11, 2006

Go on to Part 3, where we learn just what Hyperion did with that water bottle