A ‘Cloudy’ Day
Yesterday’s forecast was ‘cloudy’.
Seeing what that means in Britain, I decided to stay in town and do the laundry. But when I drew back the curtains that morning, glaring sunshine hit me from an azure sky. I had to squint to make out the majestic mountain backdrop (a sight that hits me just as much now as it did on our first morning, when I wasn’t sure whether we were in a motorway Travel Inn or wherever—until I drew back those curtains).
There were a few downy clouds behind the snow-covered peaks, but no grey in sight. I assumed that the forecast meant that the weather would deteriorate later in the day, but not so: ‘cloudy’ here seems to mean that the sun can disappear behind a white fluffy cloud for up to five minutes at a time, necessitating you to wait for that panoramic photo shoot. The weather held.
So, the laundry safely over with, I decided to shelf my plan to work on the novel and instead go for a walk.
One thing to be said in favour of Banff: it’s at the bottom of a valley covered in wetlands which are full of interesting wildlife and—above all—flat. Another pleasant surprise are the local hot springs. Near the marshes, they bubble back to the surface, and the warm water is lined with emerald green throughout the winter and is home to exotic fishes and birds year-round.
Except, as far as the birds are concerned, the year-round residents are currently elsewhere, taking advantage of the springtime bounty before the migrants get back, and the rare summer visitors aren’t here yet. There was nothing around but a few thrushes and plenty of Canada geese. Saying that, the middle of the afternoon is not an ideal time for bird watching.
However, the waters are teeming with tiny fishes, none of them native. Mosquito fishes (introduced as pest control in 1924, and now turned pest) and a few tiny aquarium species have displaced—and probably eaten—the previously endemic Banff longnose dace.
I followed the boardwalk back through the forest. As it ascended, the river turned progressively smelly, the weeds and fishes giving way to weaving algal mats, clotted with creamy sulphur deposits.
I had to remind myself that this isn’t pollution; it’s all natural. Still, the increasing smell made me think that I was approaching a sewage plant. Instead, at the top of the path, there is a visitors’ centre with the curious name ‘Pool and Basin’.
Here, the springs rise to the surface in a small cave and then flow into an outdoor pool with the idyllic and incongruous look of a tropical lagoon.
But as restful as this sight is on the eyes, as offensive it is to the nose. The champagne bubbles that wobble to the surface are hydrogen sulphide, the colour due to microbial cultures which are, basically, slime.
And yet, in this swimming pool from hell, there lives a tiny snail, whizzing over the biofilm with amazing speed, gorging itself on a cocktail of bugs which would be poison to most. It’s endemic to the Banff hot springs and in decline, making it one of the rarest creatures on Earth.
All in all, it turned out to be a fascinating afternoon stroll. And tonight, we’ll round off the experience with a soak in the hot springs pool half-way up Sulphur Mountain.
Tags: Americas, Canada, Hot Springs, Rockies, snails, Travel, Tag Index
Denni