Okay, the plan was for Chinese food. But whenever we asked about it, the response was like ‘Chinese…’ perplexed expression, ‘Food?’ Now, they do have Chinese restaurants here, so maybe we just asked the only two people in Medicine Hat with severe MSG allergies. Or maybe it’s so authentic that only Chinese people eat it. Or maybe it just isn’t the best idea.
They have this insane intersection right outside our hotel. The Trans-Canada Highway has lights. They don’t change very often. The service road our hotel is on, plus the one on the other side of the highway, are connected to the highway by two car-lengths of asphalt. On this side, the cross street has lights. On the other side, the service road has lights. When the Trans-Canada has red lights, everybody else gets green and does everything else all at once. Traffic from the cross-street merges with the traffic from the service road, taking turns. Then everyone surges into the intersection in a frenzy of lane-changing and turning. For instance, if you are eastbound on the south service road and you want to be westbound on the TC, when the light turns green, you can hang a left onto the cross street, and then drive straight into the main interchange and turn left again, providing there is some kind of gap in the oncoming traffic. Basically, you just pulled a big U-turn in Alberta’s largest uncontrolled intersection.
Right across the parking lot from us is Tumbleweeds, a restaurant and wine bar said to be the best in MH. This is according to Trip Advisor, a handy internet resource, not the sign out front. We caved, and walked over. It just seemed easier than fetching food from downtown. We had scoped the menu, and it looked very promising. Once we arrived, the wine list was short for a wine bar: twenty eight wines in total, maybe four from the US. We both planned to have veal, but there wasn’t a single light red wine on the list. No Pinot Noir, no Beaujolais, no Bardonlino. However, it turned out that they had had a Pinot Noir as the weekly special a month or so ago, and there was still one kicking around. It was from Quail’s Gate, a BC winery we very much like. It was lovely, my wine-snob snit mostly evaporated, and we had a good dinner. We shared a calamari, which was good, but not quite as good as Dino’s back home. The veal was tender and lightly breaded, the spatzle and veggies were nicely done. We passed on dessert, since we want to get up at six again tomorrow.
We got a shock when we came out of the restaurant. It was raining, and the wind was sixty kilometers an hour gusting to eighty!