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How did Calgary get its name? This Scottish island holds the answer

Yahoo

06-07-2025

Yahoo

How did Calgary get its name? This Scottish island holds the answer

A broad expanse of white sandy beach rims the Bay of Calgary on the Isle of Mull in Western Scotland. It is said to be one of the finest beaches in the country and while planning a visit there I pictured myself relaxing on the soft sand in a skimpy bathing suit and sunglasses. It turned out my imaginings were overly optimistic. I ended up wearing a sweater and a bright orange raincoat for my walk on the beach. After all, it's Scotland, not the Caribbean. Even on a rainy and foggy afternoon, the Bay of Calgary is lovely. It's surrounded by pastoral countryside with lush green fields and Calgary Castle, also known as Calgary House, sits on a hillside overlooking it all. Calgary Castle was the inspiration for the name of Fort Calgary in Alberta and later the town and City of Calgary. And while Calgary, Scotland has remained a small and quiet hamlet, the City of Calgary has grown to become one of the largest metropolitan areas in Canada. Despite its small size and rainy weather, my husband and I loved exploring Calgary Bay, the hamlet of Calgary and the Isle of Mull. After a lovely walk on the beach and a short hike that goes along the edge of the bay, we stopped at the Calgary Tearoom and Café to dry off and enjoy hot tea and treats. The little café is the only restaurant in the hamlet, and it's located right next to an art gallery, which is the only permanent commercial business we saw there. We loved exploring the gallery, seeing some remarkable art from local artists. Just outside the art gallery is the other main attraction in the area. The Calgary Bay Art in Nature Sculpture Trail is a three-kilometre outdoor nature trail that features sculptures from a variety of Scottish artists. The art trail winds through some woods directly behind the gallery and branches off into multiple trails. We didn't find all the sculptures, but we had fun exploring and discovering some remarkable art including a willow stag and a string lady who stands on a hill overlooking the Bay of Calgary. It took about half a day to explore the hamlet of Calgary. We spent two more days visiting other sights on the Isle of Mull. We stayed in Tobermory, a fishing port that was established in the 18th century and is now the largest town on the Isle of Mull. Tobermory, Scotland bears some resemblance to its namesake Tobermory, Ontario in Canada. There are great restaurants and fish and chips shacks that serve delicious food made from fresh-caught fish. Calgary Castle is privately owned so we only viewed it from the afar. On our last few hours on the Isle of Mull, we stopped at Duart Castle, which dates back to the 14th century and is the seat of Clan MacLean. It's the oldest inhabited castle on the isle and we loved exploring the grounds and the gardens. I still dream of going back to Calgary, Scotland and seeing that white sand beach on a sunny day, but with an average of 237 rainy days per year, the chances of donning a bathing suit and sunglasses are slim. Rain or no rain, it's a beautiful place. The name Calgary is derived from the Scottish Gaelic phrase Cala-ghearridh. The first word, 'Cala,' means 'bay' or 'harbour' and the second word means 'farm' or' preserved pasture.' When you visit Calgary, Scotland, that's exactly what you'll find — a beautiful white sand beach on Calgary Bay surrounded by picturesque farms and a castle. The City of Calgary, Alberta doesn't bear much resemblance to Calgary Bay, but the land upon which it sits is beautiful. The name Fort Calgary was suggested by Colonel James Macleod, the commissioner of the North-West Mounted Police. Macleod was born in Scotland, and he was a frequent summer guest at Calgary Castle, which is located near the Bay of Calgary. It is said he was inspired by the beauty of the land surrounding Fort Calgary and suggested naming the fort after the castle. When the city was later incorporated, it took the name of the original fort. You must catch a ferry or a boat to get to the Isle of Mull. Caledonian MacBrayne (CalMac) ferries offers three routes that carry both vehicles and foot passengers. The Oban to Craignure crossing is the only one that takes advance reservations and they book up quickly — especially during the summer months. Lochaline to Fishnish and Kilchoan to Tobermory are shorter crossings that are first-come first-served. We took the 15-minute Lochaline to Fishnish crossing to get to the Isle of Mull and the 50-minute Oban to Craignure crossing to return. A car rental is highly recommended for getting around the Isle of Mull as there is limited taxi and bus service. Debbie Olsen is an award-winning writer and a bestselling author. Follow her adventures at

This 1907 Warehouse in Seattle Was Just Transformed Into a Luxury Hotel—and T+L Was the First to Stay

Travel + Leisure

29-06-2025

Business
Travel + Leisure

This 1907 Warehouse in Seattle Was Just Transformed Into a Luxury Hotel—and T+L Was the First to Stay

Populus Seattle The adaptive reuse design preserves the 1907 warehouse's original Douglas fir beams and brickwork while slashing the building's carbon footprint. Rooms feel like a cocoon, wrapped in original brick, deeply saturated walls, and art that filters into the private spaces from the hotel at large through framed prints and even pour-over coffee packets. The fire-and-ice concept of the food and drink program spans from the signature restaurant Salt Harvest's oak and almond wood hearth to the rooftop cocktail bar Firn, where glacier-inspired cocktails are made with crushed, shaved, and faceted ice. All the artwork is for sale, turning the hotel into a working gallery and a stop on Pioneer Square's First Thursdays, the longest-running art walk in the country. The hotel anchors RailSpur, a placemaking project that's adding fuel to Pioneer Square's evolution by transforming former service alleys into pedestrian corridors lined with public art, shops, and cocktail bars. Opened in late May after two years of construction, Populus Seattle is already making an impression with its regenerative design, expansive art program, and deep ties to the neighborhood. Housed in the 1907 Westland Building, a former steam supply warehouse, the hotel anchors RailSpur, a placemaking initiative that connects three historic structures in Pioneer Square through alleys that draw in the public with the promise of art and cocktails. The front desk and hotel reception. Ric Stovall/Populus Seattle 'We wanted to create a hotel that becomes part of the cultural and physical infrastructure of the area,' says Jon Buerge, president of the Colorado-based Urban Villages, which developed both RailSpur and Populus. It's a fitting ambition for a hotel set amid cobblestone streets and Romanesque facades, just blocks from Seattle's working waterfront and flanked by Lumen Field and T-Mobile Park. But Populus Seattle isn't just another design-forward newcomer among edgy art galleries and expertly curated indie boutiques. (It is the second outpost of the Populus brand, following its flagship Denver location, which opened last October to much fanfare.) 'You're stepping into an experience that was designed to connect people to the city, to the past, to what's next,' says hotel general manager Rod Lapasin. I thought about that a lot as I explored the hotel's thoughtful design, neighborhood ties, layered storytelling built into its bones, and a mission that extends beyond aesthetics. Below is my full review of Populus Seattle. The Rooms Interior of the Douglas Fir Studio King. Ric Stovall/Populus Seattle It was surprisingly sunny in Seattle on the day I arrived, but I must confess I didn't take advantage of the fair weather. Upon entering my corner Douglas Fir Studio, a junior suite with two different street views, a window seat, and a generously sized bathroom decked out in plenty of luxe marble and industrial steel-framed glass, I decide to forgo the mile-long saunter to the Overlook Walk, a new elevated park space at the waterfront. Instead, I steeped in the deep soaking tub to unwind from the bustle of SeaTac Airport before swaddling into a bathrobe with a cup of hojicha tea. Given the adaptive reuse of a 1907 warehouse, all 120 rooms at Populus Seattle, from the standard Lupine room (comfortable, though quite cozy) to the Summit Suite (this space reads more like a luxe pied-à-terre, complete with private cityview terrace), are steeped in the warmth and sentiment of time passed. Thick Douglas fir beams, original to the structure, lend a distinctly woodsy, Pacific Northwest touch to the otherwise contemporary rooms. The accommodations feature brass lighting, velvet seating, and commissioned art framed in salvaged timber that once lined the warehouse floors. These pieces hang against richly hued walls, while exposed-brick facades add industrial character. The occasional siren or celebratory whoop was just a streetwise soundtrack that rooted me in a dynamic neighborhood where the art scene, stadium buzz, and working waterfront converge. If you're the kind of traveler who judges a hotel by its room amenities, then you'll be happy to find plush Matouk robes and towels, bath products by Aesop, Fellow electric kettles, and sustainable, direct-trade java from Monorail Espresso, Seattle's first coffee cart. As an example of the design team's attention to detail, the packaging for the single-serve pour-over depicts "Cats Cradle No. 2," a painting by local artist Becca Fuhrman, whose work is on view throughout the hotel. 'Our connectedness to the community is a many-layered thing,' Lapasin says. 'It all comes together from the past and the present to become the story of Populus Seattle." Food & Drink Around happy hour, a particularly welcoming phenomenon draws folks milling about the hotel's airy lobby deeper into the building: the convivial clamor emanating from Salt Harvest, its signature restaurant, located on the second floor. Buerge explained that this sonic seduction was by design. 'We placed the bar at the top of the lobby staircase for this exact reason." I tried the non-alcoholic Impostore, a bittersweet drink made with Wilderton non-alcoholic aperitivo, and the Bleeding Heart, a floral, bubbly mix of vodka, aloe, strawberry, and cherry blossom that nods to the springtime blooms across Seattle's University of Washington Quad and city parks. I enjoyed both, but ordered a second round of the Impostore. At the rooftop cocktail bar Firn (pronounced feern, the German word for the uppermost layer of a glacier), drinks revolve around ice in various forms: crushed (as in the soju-based Green Acres, flavored with apple and shiso), shaved (Get Schwifty is like a vodka-spiked, melony kakigori), or gem-faceted (the Diamond Sea is a smoky, floral milk punch). Also telling: each afternoon, upon returning from a day of exploring Seattle's latest cultural offerings (like this floating sauna and this fairly new museum, designed like a fjord), the Populus doormen would greet me with, 'Welcome. Heading to Firn?'—a sign of just how quickly the rooftop bar has become a favorite with locals and hotel guests alike. Panoramic views from the Firn rooftop deck. Ric Stovall/Populus Seattle While ice sets the chill upstairs, down in Salt Harvest, flames crackle. 'The restaurant explores fire through Pacific Northwest ingredients from land and sea,' says executive chef Conny Andersson, who hails from Gothenburg, Sweden. (Seattle's robust Scandinavian population is owed to trades like fishing and boat building, kindred between the two cultures.) 'There's a natural overlap in how both regions approach food—minimalist, ingredient-driven, and rooted in seasonality. It's how I cook, and it's how I grew up.' Nearly every dish on the dinner menu is touched by flame. The Neah Bay salmon is just kissed by the oak-and-almond wood fire, yielding buttery tenderness. The free-range pork chop from Washington's Pure Country Farm gets more char but remains unctuous, a rarity for such a lean cut. Wild mushroom spätzle is rich and comforting thanks to Beecher's Flagship cheddar and a ratio of handmade noodles to foraged mushrooms that, to my eye, heavily favors the forest floor. Salmon gravlax, a nod to Andersson's homeland, is cured with Op Anderson aquavit, evoking the classic curing herbs of caraway and dill, then brushed with an umami-rich espresso honey mustard. For dessert, I opted for the Eton Mess, a cloudlike confection of baked meringue, fresh local berries, and Chantilly cream. Activities and Amenities The private dining meeting area. Ric Stovall/Populus Seattle The hotel's features feel more like immersive touchpoints, designed to invite interaction, spark curiosity, and reflect the city's creative spirit. Populus Seattle's commitment to sustainability and art comes together at the entrance, where salvaged tree trunks recall a ghost forest—once-living trees left standing by rising waters and now seen as symbols of regeneration. Just inside, mounted above a living fray of lush foliage, vibrant large-scale paintings reflect a range of visual styles, from psychedelic glitchery ("Garden Sequence 070624" by Przemysław Blejzyk) to folksy surrealism ("We Walked to the Top of the Holy Mountain" by Andrea Heimer) to mystic landscapes ("Night Forest" by Kimberly Trowbridge). Dom Nieri, founder of local art consultancy ARTXIV, curated a collection of 46 original artworks— including a site-specific installation of moss and rope that will cascade through the hotel's lightwell later this year—and 295 limited-edition prints by 35 local, regional, and international artists. Each piece was sparked by a single source of inspiration—the Pacific Northwest—and produced during a summer residency at the neighboring RailSpur Manufacturing Building. 'We'd take groups of artists out for plein air painting, riding ferries, going to the beach, and they'd come back to our 10,000-square-foot studio and respond to the experience,' Nieri says. 'We brought back the original intent of the building as a working production space.' All the art is for sale, making the hotel a working gallery that explores themes of place, persistence, and becoming. I imagine which wall in my tiny San Francisco apartment "Holy Mountain" would look best on, and which imaginary bank account I would draw from to purchase it. Populus also participates in Pioneer Square's First Thursdays—the longest-running art walk in the country—and plans to host guest-exclusive artist talks in the Nature Library and live performances in the Art Room. 'We're not doing things for the neighborhood—we're doing things with it,' adds Nieri. 'That means bringing people in, making space for their voices, and letting the work grow from there.' Family-Friendly Offerings While Populus Seattle doesn't have dedicated kids' programming, it's far from inhospitable to families. During dinner at Salt Harvest, the family seated next to me ordered off-menu pasta with Parmesan cheese for their three kids, though they ended up stealing bites of dad's pork chop anyway. The hotel's walkable Pioneer Square location also makes it easy to explore nearby kid-friendly spots, such as the Seattle Aquarium and the waterfront Great Wheel. Rooms like the Douglas Fir Studio or the Summit Suite offer more breathing room for families. Accessibility and Sustainability As a journalist who's been on the design beat for over two decades, I've read enough sustainability claims to be skeptical, but here, I was pleasantly surprised by the specificity. Converting a 1907 brick-and-timber warehouse into a modern boutique hotel drastically cuts carbon emissions by an average of 78 percent compared to new builds, according to industry studies, giving Populus Seattle a significant head start on its goal of being climate regenerative. 'The adaptive reuse approach was key,' says Buerge. 'It let us preserve character while cutting down on carbon. That's a big win in both directions.' Such an ambitious retrofit also meant striking a balance between design ambition and practical considerations. While the dramatic central staircase serves as an architectural centerpiece, spacious elevators and ADA-compliant rooms ensure that access isn't compromised. But living the net-positive life isn't just about renewable power (Populus has committed to sourcing 100 percent of its energy from off-site solar and wind farms), or planting trees (one for every night you stay, through the aptly named One Night, One Tree program), or diligent composting (food waste will be diverted from landfill by onsite BioGreen360 digesters). Even the cafe's to-go cups are low-impact, made from durable clay, not single-use plastic or paper. Ultimately, it's about leaving the neighborhood better than you found it. 'We're not just looking at net zero,' adds Buerge. 'Carbon positive means going beyond—regenerating ecosystems and reinvesting in communities.' Location The lounge at The Café at Salt Harvest. Ric Stovall/Populus Seattle RailSpur, a placemaking project by Urban Villages, has transformed the area's back-of-house service corridors into walkable public spaces. Today, they feature art, patio seating, and independent businesses like Marigold and Mint Botanicals, plus a forthcoming outpost of the national cocktail bar Death & Co. 'And Populus is the beating heart of it all,' says Buerge. Given the buzz around the hotel, it may well become the pulse of historic Pioneer Square. As Seattle's oldest neighborhood, the area has seen its share of boom-and-bust cycles—from the Great Seattle Fire of 1889, which leveled the place, to the Klondike Gold Rush of the late 1890s, when some 70,000 prospectors passed through Seattle en route to the Yukon, turning Pioneer Square into a hub for supplies, lodging, and entertainment. Despite—or perhaps because of—its gritty reputation, modern-day Pioneer Square holds serious cultural cred, thanks to standout galleries like Greg Kucera, spotlighting contemporary work by emerging Pacific Northwest artists, and Foster/White, long associated with renowned Seattle glass artist Dale Chihuly, as well as indie shops like Flora and Henri, a concept lifestyle boutique next door to the artisanal doughnut cafe General Porpoise. I took great delight in discovering Peter Miller Books + Supplies, a tucked-away gem for architecture and design lovers, where I purchased several Japanese notebooks and Miller's housekeeping homage, "How to Wash the Dishes." It seems the legacy neighborhood is undergoing yet another transformation, with Populus being part of the change. Book Now Populus Seattle doesn't participate in any hotel or credit card loyalty programs, but before booking your stay, check out the hotel's website for its latest offers and discounts. Nightly rates at Populus Seattle start at $359 per night. Every T+L hotel review is written by an editor or reporter who has stayed at the property, and each hotel selected aligns with our core values.

I love the graffiti I see in Paris – but tagging is just visual manspreading

The Guardian

06-06-2025

Lifestyle
The Guardian

I love the graffiti I see in Paris – but tagging is just visual manspreading

Among the layers of life in Paris that energise me, I might list: peeling back the city's music scene all the way to figuring out where, and when, the musicians go to jam together; the unassuming flair of even a basic brasserie; the way one can pivot, in the span of a week, from an art gallery opening to a friend's concert to another friend's restaurant to discover his Corsican-influenced menu, and end it by lingering on a terrace, 'remaking the world' with others who challenge you – calmly – to see something a different way. Among the things about this city that exhaust me are the people who cram their way into the Métro without letting you step out first (seriously, what neurons are misfiring in the heads of these people?), and the sheer prevalence of tags. It's when you leave Paris for a bit and come back that you realise how many tags there are. How swaths of a city that is otherwise arrestingly beautiful look as if a giant toddler high on methamphetamines stumbled through them, scribbling on everything in sight with a giant Sharpie. In my mind there is, of course, a fuzzy-but-significant divide between street art, graffiti and tags. There is an entire graffiti wall just across the street from my apartment, visible from my living room, and I adore watching its constant state of flux – the greens and blues that slowly replace bubbly, fat oranges and reds. Sometimes, the wall tilts towards pictures; sometimes it tilts towards words. Other places in the neighbourhood regularly get postered ('Stop aux violences faites aux femmes'), there are walls that host the retro-style tile aliens put up by Space Invader or the dark-haired women of Miss. Tic, and some cracks in the pavement have even been filled in by the anonymous street artist Ememem. I appreciate all of this. I deeply dislike the tags. Street art, like other forms of art, seeks to convey something about the world and the person who drew it. The political postering anchors us in the reality of a world that is far too grim, far too often. Tagging is nothing more than a way of saying me, me, me. Some, I'm sure, will say that the real difference is that I am just a bobo; that I want what aesthetically pleases me, and reject what does not. That maybe you can't have one without the other, that Paris is rebellious by nature, that frustration comes with freedom. Aren't the tags a bit of grit that reveal the city as something real and alive, rather than an open air museum in a tourist-friendly stasis? Aren't they a form of voice for people who don't write for major media? If you want to live somewhere spotless and perfect, move to Switzerland, not the 10th arrondissement, you might be thinking. It would be worse, far worse, for Paris to lose its alternative, countercultural identity. There is some truth in all of this – Georges-Eugène Haussmann's grand avenues were designed in part to put an end to Parisian revolts and street barricades. The seventh arrondissement is a postcard; the 20th is a real city. But what sets tagging apart is that it is the visual urban incarnation of a largely, if not exclusively, masculinist impulse towards domination. Street art and graffiti are a form of conversation with the people who live in a city; tags say nothing more than 'I was here' and 'I dominated this space'. To tag is as egotistical as a billionaire's dick-shaped joyride to the edge of space. It's a dog peeing on a fire hydrant. It's visual manspreading. Just as with the people who play music on speaker on public transport, or who scream into their phones, the point is not for other people to experience and engage with their art, music or street performance; it is for us to cede to the inevitable truth that, for a moment in time, they control our experience of public, collective life. Sign up to This is Europe The most pressing stories and debates for Europeans – from identity to economics to the environment after newsletter promotion It's this subtone of domination that makes heavily tagged areas feel grungy, dark and unsettling – unlike areas full of other types of visual expression displayed on walls. When you live in a city, you expect the metal grilles of storefronts to be fair game; when someone has scribbled their callsign on a random part of a second-floor wall of a residential building, that feels different. That feels like a violation, the same way it feels like a violation when tags proliferate on shared public spaces – on rubbish bins, the insides of public toilets, the exterior wall of a restaurant that will have to be pressure-washed by a minimum-wage worker in the morning. The city, apparently, has reached its limit and is vowing to do something about the scourge of tagging. When they find the culprits, let me suggest an appropriate sentence: thoroughly cleaning the areas they've made less livable. After that, maybe the city can find them some art classes. Alexander Hurst is a Guardian Europe columnist