I arrived in Calgary after a series of journeys:
Day 1: got a lift from Eve (thank you!) from home to the railway station in Barry, caught the train to Cardiff, got a National Express coach to Heathrow, walked (limped) all over the place, trailing my suitcase, looking for the Hoppa bus to my hotel (the usual spot at the bus station was being dug up, I think) and finally found the right number and arrived at my hotel. I was joined soon after by Victoria and in exchange for her mail that I’d brought from home, she gave me the 120 volt hair straighteners I’d gifted her after my trip 2 years ago. Just so I could look somewhat presentable at my brother’s wedding.
Day 2: said goodbye to Victoria and from my Terminal 5-bound Hoppa I saw her shoot off in her Mini. I checked in and got rid of my suitcase right away and then walked as far and as frequently as I could in the departure area – I get bit paranoid about long journeys and not being able to exercise. 
Finally on the plane to Vancouver, in the aisle seat I’d booked, I walked around and around the cabin, along with about 50% of the other occupants. Rather nice, really, we struck up lots of little conversations and piled up against the exit doors to take photos as the Captain obligingly flew a little lower over Greenland to give us views of coast, mountains, glaciers – breathtaking! We were up above the clouds again as we flew west towards Vancouver, following a route way north of Hudson Bay and then, in a cloudless sky, over a tip of Saskatchewan and the Badlands of Alberta, a barren looking land spattered with lakes and apparently home to just cattle and cowboys, according to a Man Who Knew. 
We crossed the Rockies somewhere near Jasper: interesting to see that from the air they are just massive rocks, piling into each other, whereas when you are travelling through the area along a road, you are dwarfed by these peaks. Arriving in Vancouver, with a connecting flight to Calgary in a couple of hours, I spent the time walking miles along massive concourses. So far, so good.
So it was with a bit of a shock that I left the little (comparatively) WestJet plane in Calgary and, again, walking along miles of carpeted floor to collect baggage and meet up with my brother, I found myself gasping for breath, weak at the knees and a total wreck.
It’s not until I see Dave, hug him, collect my suitcase and make my way out of the airport to his car that he mentions we are about 3,500 feet above sea level. So, not quite as high as Shimla or Yellowstone (where I also gasped like a fish) but still enough to labour my breathing and jellify my legs.
I always thought the Rockies rose steeply from the sea and and descended the same distance onto the Alberta Plain – but not so. Calgary sits on a high plateau, a top-of-the-world scenario similar to the lands north of the Himalayas.
You learn something new every day.
Patamateria 