9th day (Black Diamond - Mountain View)

Waking up in a museum is a completely new feeling. And even the shower, which is outside the room, has features of an exhibition chamber, but in terms of shower quality, it's the best of my journey so far. Bev's breakfast matches her home culture - unique. Fresh orange juice, fresh fruits, dark rye toast and an excellent omelette, she really is a gem. And even though I don't necessarily want to stay here longer because the rich furnishing is a bit too much for me, I highly recommend this hidden gem in Black Diamond. Love it or hate it. I loved it.

We take Highway 22, also known as the Cowboy Trail, and it turns out to be one of the most beautiful roads I have ever driven on. Bright sunshine sets in shortly after departure, and then it goes over rolling hills in the middle of a grassland, cattle pastures that appear as large as Saarland, and individual ranches whose names can be read for kilometers to the south. Stopping is a must, and you can't get enough of the vastness that this land offers. Yellow rapeseed fields provide a contrast to the cattle pastures, and the traffic is sparse, sometimes you can't see a car until the horizon. I often wonder why more people don't visit this route instead of the completely overcrowded parkways, but then I'm glad that so few do. Road trip at its finest.

The highway ends after 90 minutes - unfortunately, we only drive the last 131 of its total 574 km - and we turn onto Highway 3 and then Highway 6, where after three-quarters of an hour the mountain ranges of Waterton Lakes National Park appear, which are naturally not comparable in size to Jasper and Banff, but still impressive. The park houses the Prince of Wales Hotel as a widely visible landmark, which was built there by the Great Northern Railway company in 1926/27. From the tearoom, you have a gigantic view of Upper Waterton Lake, and you don't even have to spend the 40 Canadian dollars for a tea ceremony to enjoy the view while sitting in a chair. A Starbucks coffee from the gift shop is enough, even though you are politely asked to leave the field for the more affluent clientele at around 1 p.m. During a funny encounter in the relatively shabby toilet, an obviously knowledgeable tourist tells me that the Scottish kilts worn by the staff here do not even correspond to the tartan of the Prince of Wales. Well, let's just leave it at that.

The town of Waterton at the bottom of the lake has only 100 inhabitants, but of course has expanded as a tourist destination during this time - nevertheless, it is relatively easy to find a parking space, and there are no attendants to show you the way. You can stroll along the shore, and numerous shops and restaurants cater to the tourists, who in my opinion are surprisingly few during this peak travel season. An Indian dance, which is held on a meadow along with Indian accessories in the form of a couple dressed in traditional costumes, points to the Blackfeet, who have their reservation nearby in Montana. The border between the USA and Canada actually runs through the lake, and we realize that we will drive to Montana tomorrow and leave Canada again.

But today, one last night remains in the beautiful hamlet of Mountain View, with 90 inhabitants. We chose the Rocky Ridge Country Lodge, a very quiet house amidst horse and sheep pastures. The village only has a country store where you can stock up on the bare essentials, but sleep is not disturbed by any noise, except for a rooster who starts his work at 4 a.m. And in the spacious estate, there is a billiard room and a hot tub and fully equipped kitchens that you are allowed to use. Who needs a pub then?