HOTELS BY CALGARY AIRPORT : HOTELS BY

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Hotels By Calgary Airport


hotels by calgary airport
    calgary airport
  • Calgary International Airport, , is the international airport that serves Calgary, Alberta, Canada and the surrounding region; it is situated approximately northeast of downtown Calgary.
    hotels
  • An establishment providing accommodations, meals, and other services for travelers and tourists
  • A code word representing the letter H, used in radio communication
  • (hotel) a building where travelers can pay for lodging and meals and other services
  • HOTELS (ISSN-1047-2975) is a trade publication serving the information needs of the worldwide hospitality industry.
  • Hotel is a dimensional real estate game created by Milton Bradley in 1986. It is similar to Square Mile and Prize Property. In Hotel the players are building resort hotels and attempting to drive their competitors into bankruptcy.

There and Back Again...
There and Back Again...
I am sitting in the Calgary airport as I write this. One tiny flight left and we'll be home. It's late and I am tired. But there's an internet here...and I have some stuff to show you. I wasn't looking forward to this trip, to be honest. Sheree and I were going to be with other people nearly all the time. Since I am primarily a socially challenged happy hermit, I was actually pretty nervous about the whole thing. But it was splendid. Every single moment: every new friend...every new city. S-p-l-e-n-d-i-d. I woke up at about 1:30 this morning in our NYC hotel room and just lay there thinking about things: the trip we've made, the people we've met, the places we've seen. Thinking back to the first day of this trip was a wee bit mind blowing. It seems like a hundred years ago. I got out of bed and looked out the window at New York. Even in the wee morning hours it's a bustling vital place: honking yellow cabs, street people so compelling and heartbreaking you ache to take their picture. There's a vitality here that just crackles through the air: the scent of pretzels and smoke, flashing lights and people talking too loud, confused looking tourists and the ever-present roar of the subway rumbling under your feet. I could see smoke rising from a manhole cover even from our window and all through the night a steady white neon sign lit our room with an affable cool light. I love New York. I have an additional reason to love it now: Alan Shapiro met us on our second day and shared his splendid city and his huge heart with us there. He has become an instant friend and one of my all-time favorite people. I love Providence Rhode Island, too. That's where we met Gina and Brian. We also met relatives and friends, and saw seascapes and a crappy chick movie. We laughed and talked about stuff both serious and goofy...and really got to know each other. I love these two people. It was hard to say goodbye. I love Phillie too. That's where Sharon and John live. They introduced us to Cheese steak from Heaven at Geno's and showed us the most marvelous prison...honest. We prayed and talked and ate "water ice and custard" every day. Sharon and John have huge hearts and splendid spirits. I didn't much want to leave there either. I love Washington DC. There we met Peter, Cheryl, Elie and Jared Rice. Have you ever been with a group of people and felt IMMEDIATELY like you were one of the family? I did the instant I met them. I spent a memory making morning by the war memorials, went to the largest Renaissance Faire in North America and saw amazing things. I love Washington DC. And I love the Rice family. Every one of them. Honest. My heart heaved a sigh when we boarded the train to leave. Now it's time for me to get back to work until Christmas is done. There's a LOT of work to do. But I will be dreaming about Africa in January... This image was shot outside a "holy crap" expensive hotel in Newport Rhode Island on a perfect summer day with Gina and Brian. So settle into one of these chairs. I'll sit in the other one because over the next while I have a ton of pictures to show you and stories to share with you. It's been a spectacular (I might even use the term "life changing") thirteen days. More about that later though. I look forward to catching up with you guys.
the downtown train
the downtown train
as if an entire city block were left behind by the seventies --- Standing on the C-train, I'm looking out the window, trying to pinpoint what stop I need to be closest to the bookstore, (I had accidentally left my book, The Best of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, on the floor of the taxi we took from the airport to the temporary hotel), when she taps me on the arm. "Excuse me," she says, and asks a woman's name, something with multiple syllables I don't exactly catch. "I'm sorry, no. You're mistaken." I reply, shaking my head. She's somewhere in her fifties, well dressed, slightly expensive. The top of her head comes up to my chin. "I'm sorry," her voice catches, "for a moment.. you reminded me of my.. my daughter." Suddenly, she's crying. I reach forward, take her in my arms, and let her lean into my body as she crumples. What else is there to do? We stood like a statue of women welded together until the train slowed into the next stop. "Are you alright?" She nodded into my chest, took a deep breath, shakily stepped back, and thanked me. "Would you like to go for coffee?" I asked, "Talk about it?" I bought her a dark hot chocolate and sat with her in an oversized chair, our knees touching. "She was the sweetest thing in my life. We had the same colour hair, but her voice was her father's, do you understand that?" I said that I did, and she continued, "I was wonderfully young, around your age. Such a nightmare. I felt so stupid. We searched the whole place, got security to shut down the doors, check the parking lot. Didn't matter." Her story was sad, terrible, simple, and not unexpected, considering how we met. About twenty years ago, she said, her nine year old daughter was snatched from a Lethbridge grocery store. "This is only the third time I've ever mistaken someone for her, you know, and the other two people wouldn't give me the time of day." I put an arm around her and she rest against it, warming her tiny hands on her cup, and we sat, silent, with our heads together. "I'm glad you found me," I said. "Me too." Featured on Explore: Jan 5, 2008 #427

hotels by calgary airport
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