Let me tell you, Banff and I have a complicated relationship. For three consecutive years, I’ve planned a picture-perfect trip there, only to cancel every single time. But anyone who knows me knows I’m as stubborn as a mule with a grudge. So, once again, I set my sights on Banff, determined to catch the sunrise at Lake Louise on my way to Las Vegas. Ambitious? Absolutely. Especially since I don’t drive.

December 24, 2022—two days before Toronto Pearson Airport decided to have its luggage meltdown—WestJet did what WestJet does best: delay my flight by a casual 2-3 hours. By the time I stumbled into Calgary Airport, it was 9 p.m., and I was ready to drop. But no, I had a pre-booked shuttle to Banff to catch. I arrived at my hostel around noon (yes, it felt like noon), during one of the heaviest snowfalls Canada has ever seen.

Now, you’d think I’d be used to winter by now, but no. I learned there’s no Uber in Banff—shocking, I know. And even the taxis were apparently on vacation until 8 or 9 a.m. Great. I had planned to call an Uber and glide smoothly into my sunrise adventure, but instead, I spent the night tossing, turning, and contemplating my life choices, all while my body screamed in pain from the journey.

The next morning, after a dramatic internal debate that would make Shakespeare proud, I braved the public transit system. With my backpack and carry-on in tow, I trudged through what felt like miles of snow to the bus stop. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the bus finally arrived, only for me to realize it was cashless. Cue the mad dash to the ticket machine, decked out in a winter jacket, two bags, and the grace of a waddling penguin. By the time I caught my breath and reboarded, the bus sat there for another 20 minutes. Why did I even run?

But the fun didn’t stop there. After a bus change and being dropped off on a road next to Lake Louise, I bolted through knee-high snow, dragging my carry-on behind me like a stubborn child. When I finally reached the frozen lake, the sight of the sunrise over the snow-capped mountains made every ounce of pain worth it. It was just me, minus 21 degrees, and the most breathtaking view you can imagine.

After freezing my toes off, I decided it was time for breakfast at the Fairmont Lake Louise. At first, they tried to turn me away—something about not being a guest—but who can say no to this face? So, I enjoyed a breakfast that felt like a feast, and the view through the massive windows was so stunning, I just kept eating to prolong the experience.

Then, disaster struck. When I went to collect my luggage for the shuttle back to Calgary, the receptionist casually mentioned that my shuttle was actually booked from the Banff Fairmont, not the Lake Louise Fairmont. My heart sank as I realized I had less than three hours to make my connecting flight to Vegas. In a panic, I did what any rational person would do: I booked a $650 CAD limousine. Merry Christmas to me!

The limo driver, bless his heart, decided to lecture me on working Christmas Day because of my poor planning. I smiled, nodded, and in my mind, I was hurling him out the window like a villain in a movie.

Calgary, you may hate me, but I’m not giving up. Until next time.