Viscount Gort Hotel

In the Winnipeg winter of 06/07 I spent most of my leisure time in the swimming pool and sauna of a place called the Viscount Gort Hotel. The fact that I and several of my compadres were able to regularly break into the pool and also break all the rules of the pool for a period of about five months is evidence of a) the total lack of ambition on the part of the hotel staff and b) our blissful shamelessness.

The Viscount Gort was across the frigid Assiniboine River, from our house maybe a ten minute walk. The bridge we had to cross rose considerably- exposure to the wind was terrible, and the city didn't clear the sidewalk of snow. It was a bit of an ordeal getting to and from, despite the proximity. It probably never got warmer than -30 that winter. That sauna and pool was an oasis. Our house was badly insulated (ice formed on the interior of outside walls), our hot water supply limited, and we relied on our bikes to go everywhere all winter long. There were weeks when I went to the Viscount Gort five or six days out of seven to sit in the sauna. Towards the end of our happy time there we began to go in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays, as the south facing side of the pool complex was a floor to ceiling window and the sun lit up the entire place every morning. We would bring thermoses of coffee and my pal rode down the waterslide while pretending to read the newspaper. We threw the soggy Free Press at each other.

Underneath a bench in the sauna there was a little opening big enough to scoot an empty bottle into. After a few months you could drop a can in and hear it clatter off enough other discards to bring a smile to even the most severe anti-leisure types.

Encounters with the hotel security were recounted gleefully to those not present. I was there for a few of them. You might not know this, but a lot of drinking gets done in hotel pools- usually near the deckchairs, but of course this seems an arbitrary confinement after a few Lucky Lager's consumed in the shadow of a waterslide. The first time I encountered security I thought for sure the game was up. We were sitting on the side drinking some beers when they strolled in. Our innocent Shangrila, about to be taken from us by some red-faced pot-bellied minimum wage security stooges! They pointed to the bottles, and told us we couldn't drink them in here... because of the glass. Cans are okay, we were assured. And then they walked out.

Another time we stayed long after the lights were turned out. The only thing better than sneaking into a pool with some economy brews is riding the waterslide after the lights are outtrying to keep your economy brew balanced while you tumble into the water. Eventually someone came and asked us to leave. He went as far as to escort us to the elevator, probably because we were carrying armfuls of winter wear in addition to our normal clothes. We took it up a few floors, changed in the stairwell and left out a back emergency exit.