North-American Hunting Expedition by Gábor Katona - HTML preview

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21st August

Noon

I book an alarm call for 5.00am. I packed everything last night so that I would be ready to leave.

But this morning, however, some things have turned up from the most unexpected places. One from under the bed, another from a drawer that I looked in accidentally, and would have sworn that I had never opened before... Completely unfamiliar things: I didn't know when or where, I had bought them. Many were still unwrapped, which meant that I had never used them.

I put my rucksack into my large The Northface bag, which means that I will be travelling with one bag less. I haven't gained a lot doing this.

The rules for checking in luggage with Alaska Airlines are difficult to follow. At the desk they said I must pay for every single item of luggage that I check in. I have a few flights behind me, and I've never come across this before. Leaving so much behind in the Hilton didn't really help; my bag was so overweight because of my rucksack that I had to pay for excess-baggage after all. But this time they did not make an extra charge for taking my gun, as they did from Chicago to Anchorage. In a television quiz, the final question for the main prize could be - "Explain the luggage check-in regulations for this airline". Bit by bit, I am paying so much for my excess weight and extra bags that I could have paid for another hunt back in Hungary. I decide that the next time I go online I will send them an email asking for an explanation.

I've just flown 3 1/2 hrs to Seattle, and now I'm waiting for the plane that is supposedly taking me on to Edmonton, in Canada, to leave. When I get there I will have to transfer my luggage myself, as Alaska Airlines does not have any arrangement with Canadian North, the airline that is going to fly me - assuming there are no problems - on to Yellowknife, my final destination for today.

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Chapter III.: Victoria Island

Page 7

Sitting in front of Departure Gate 49

International Airport

Edmonton, Canada

Late afternoon

Whoever says that Canadian Customs and Immigration are hostile and unfriendly, is lying.

I really did not expect them to be so helpful and accommodating. On boarding the plane to Edmonton, my hand-baggage was taken away from me as it was too large to fit in the overhead locker (my hand-baggage is as large as the combined suitcases of a family with five children setting out on a two week vacation!). The flight attendant snatched it from my hands and gave it to the luggage-loaders who then put it in the hold, along with the rest of the checked-in bags. The only problem is that this bag has no lock, so anyone can take out anything. It contains all my permits, my tickets, my hotel confirmation, my itinerary, my camera, the HDDs with all I've recorded so far, and my netbook... in one word, everything.

If it gets lost, there is a good chance that my trip will end right here. The 90 min. flight passed slowly; I could not stop worrying about my bag. The first immigration officer I saw asked to see my hotel booking, which, of course, was in my hand-baggage. I told him how it had disappeared into the labyrinth of the airport, whereupon he closed down his work-station and set off with me to find it. And, indeed, we did find it; it was at a separate desk, where they hand over all the bags.

After that, I had to see one more immigration officer, and he, finally, let me enter Canada. Then there was a customs officer, and he wanted to know if I had removed the bolt from my gun. I'd completely forgotten to do it. I'd only been in Canada five minutes and I had already broken the law. It was not a problem; I took out the bolt, we filled out some forms, and I was asked for Can $25 to pay for some sort of permit - I don't know what it was for. I only had US dollars, so the customs officer, via some secret doors, took me through to the departure lounge, where he waited patiently as I exchanged some money, and then we went back to my gun, where I paid for the permit. At last I reached the Canadian North desk, checked in my luggage, and didn't have to pay a cent. I had to set my watch two hours ahead as I have travelled so far east.

The flight to Yellowknife is delayed by an hour, which means I'm not going to arrive at the hotel until 10.30, but I'm past caring. I'm on Canadian soil, and my gun is with me: what else matters?

We are still waiting for the plane.

A large part of this hunting trip is taken up with waiting. So far, I've waited for trains, planes, buses, organizers, breakfasts, good weather, luggage and for someone to fix the internet in my hotel room.

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Chapter III.: Victoria Island

Page 8

I have been waiting for a lot of things.

I'm a professional waiter!

Room 309

Chateau Nova Hotel

Yellowknife

North West Territories

Canada

Evening

So, with all my baggage, including my gun, I arrive at the hotel.

I flew 2288 mi. from Anchorage to Seattle, 812 mi. from Seattle to Edmonton, 929 mi. from Edmonton to Yellowknife, so altogether I have travelled 4029 miles, making two stops. I have made a huge aerial detour, as I am now only 1871 miles from Anchorage, where I started. The plane to Yellowknife was not able to make up any of the delay, so it was past 11.00 before I was able to switch on my netbook. To compensate for this, I saw the most beautiful sunset in my life, and then arrived in a very hunter- and visitor-friendly town. At the airport there are some stuffed animals posed in a "Polar bear on a seal hunt" scene (that's not the official title - I just made it up). On seeing my camouflage pants, several people come up and ask me where, and what, I am hunting, and wish me good luck.

At the hotel a letter, a fax and an email, all from Boyd Warner, the local outfitter, are waiting for me. It's a flood of information, but, sadly, not of much use. In the email he writes that he will fax me the details of tomorrow's program: how and when I will travel to Holman, on Victoria Island, and from there to the hunting ground. I have the fax, but it doesn't say anything about this. I was collected at the airport by the hotel bus; among the other passengers were four other hunters, two of whom are Boyd's clients. They say that they are being met at 8.00 tomorrow morning, but aren't absolutely certain about it. I'm not at all worried. I've been here long enough to learn that here in the north things rarely go as planned, but, eventually, things do get sorted out. I send an email to Boyd and Cabela's, telling them that if they have any information about tomorrow, they must feel free to share it with me.

The hotel is barely up to my expectations. The air-conditioning sounds like a Soyuz rocket in the first stage of take-off.

I'd rather sweat.

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Chapter III.: Victoria Island

Page 9

Morning Chateau Nova Hotel