Travel Story: No Inn At The Inn

Dear Sillies,

Last month's adventures to Canada granted many a story. This one, the most shocking and transformative.

Please enjoy.

Also and most importantly, please be and stay safe.

Lake Moraine in the Canadian Rockies - Alberta, Canada. 

I elated in every aspect of my journey, from the cute Aussie I sat next to on my flight to Vancouver; exotic Native American artifacts at that airport; Calgary's comfy, hip hotel I'd selected; a grand time with Debra She Who Seeks... 

--------------------------------------

Finally, charged by the thrill of arriving in Banff, my ultimate destination, I lugged my small but bulky suitcase up two steps to the door of Serenity Inn. They'd house me for my 3-night stay. Strangely, no sign marked the Inn, but I'd received a confirmation email just two weeks earlier. Confirmation is confirmation. Right? 

A young woman mops the floors in the kitchen to my left, as I enter. 

"Hi. Can you tell me where to check in?"

She pauses and instructs: "You need to go to the office for hotel staff."

I'm confused. 

"You need to leave!" A different female, who I don't yet see, commands. "We live here."

~My heart departs my body at some point around now.~

I look up the stairwell directly in view, as a young couple stands near its midpoint to stare down at me. She shouts again, "This isn't lodging. You need to leave!"

I push my way further into the space. "Wait. You need to know that they're using your address to steal hundreds of dollars from people." 

She descends the stairs and takes in my teary-eyed angst.  

"Go ahead and sit down. " She points at a musty, mauve couch. I'll get you some water. I'm Katie."  

"We've had this happen before," Katie tells me, as she hands me a cup of water. "That man got really mad. There was some confusion when they sold the place, but I thought that was resolved. Anyway, I work in reservations. Lemme make a phone call."

"Thanks Katie. I'm Robyn, by the way."

Katie nods then disappears.

The young man sits by me on the couch. His presence, consoling. He introduces himself and reassures me. There's an extra bed in the basement "if worse comes to worst."

"Thank you, Hugh. I know it's peak season, so I don't expect any vacancies. As nice as it is here, I'd rather not sleep under a tree." He imparts a half-grin. (Frankly, a basement bed doesn't appeal either, but at least I'd be safe.)

I tell Hugh about my Canadian ancestry, Birthday excursion, homebase in Chico, California. He's from New Zealand, I learn, and met Katie on-line.  

A few long seconds later, Hugh excuses himself, seemingly to check in with Katie...

to be continued.