WANT TO FREEZE YOUR ASS OFF?

      Just book a flight to Yellow Knife, NWT, temperature 30 degress BELOW ZERO!  I spent three days and nights there at the Capital Suites several years ago. My purpose was to hold a Q. and A. session following a screening of “Abel Raises Cain,” the award-winning documentary by Jen and Jeff Hockett.

     The Yellow Knife Film Club paid my expenses for air transportation, hotel, meals and a $500 honorarium. Not a bad deal, right? Wrong.  I was never so cold in my life, except inside my hotel room. Outside my window I could see a Horton’s Fast Food. 

     I took one step outside the hotel and couldn’t breathe. Ice everywhere, nobody on the sidewalks, just traffic. I returned to the front desk and was advised to use the enclosed passage to the hospital next door. They had a cafeteria. That’s where I had my breakfast and other meals.

     The night of the screening, several members drove me to the Wildcat Café for dinner. This was a small wooden shack that tilted badly. It was constructed of old timbers, an elderly lady in her 70’s greeted us at the door and asked, “Will you have shark or filet of sole?” I chose the latter.

     I glanced around inside as this woman showed us to our reserved table, only one of three tables and all occupied.

Then she went behind the counter and threw our fish orders on the grill. Whoever was the inferior decorator did an interesting job. There were a hundred or more business cards tacked on one wall and dozens of photos on another. That was our entertainment, I suppose.

     I learned that Madame Zonga was born into a royal family in Turkey, turned over to a relative who was moving to Canada and she grew up in Yellow Knife. Her passion was food and she did everything from buying the food to cooking, serving and cleaning. Just she alone, and she loved the responsibility.

Hmmmmm.

     It was a baby shark, but I still couldn’t look at its head, cut in half,  on the plates of my friends. Quite frankly, my filet of sole was quite delicious, along with baby carrots and a large tomato for me to slice.

     There was very hushed conversation from other patrons, Madame Zonga was busy cooking, serving and cleaning away dishes. We had hot tea and rum cake for dessert. Then on to our screening.

     There were about 50 people in a small classroom in this downtown building. The DVD played well and the audience laughed in all the right places. They were delighted to see me afterwards and I received a standing ovation.

     Griswold Thatcher, my host, offered to pick me up in the morning and tour the town (population 20,000). I declined, blowing my nose as though I had a cold. So he said he would drive me to the airport at noon, departing at l pm for Toronto, making a connection back to New York’s JFK.

     All went well on the six hour return flight, I slept most of the way, with a bad dream being eaten by a shark. At the Toronto Airport, entrepreneur Gary Topp met me with two delicious corned beef sandwiches. We ate and talked. When he asked me how I felt about the trip to Yellow Knife. I had only two words:”Never again!”