The Thousand Islands

Prescott was a nice stopover, but even better was Brockville. This was a town that looked to be alive, and seemed to be thriving. And we were stopped for the night. So another pleasant, quiet night on the riverside pier. Some of the passengers went into town for a bit of a walk, but we stayed on board for the evening. By now, we had eaten enough that moving around was a bit more difficult, and we had even gotten lazier (imagine that!).

On our arrival, we were whisked off for a quick tour of Fort Wellington,a fort built for the War of 1812, but used more for the Rebellion of 1838-42, against those nasty folks who wanted democracy (like William Lyon MacKenzie).








The "soldier" on the left is actually a woman (not historically accurate). The woman on the right is Laurie, our Purser and Tour Guide.

When we got up in the morning, it was a bright, sunny day. I walked into town to get a Globe, and when I got back, I joined the others on a bus to Fulford mansion. Mr. Fulford was a marketing genius in the days of the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. He marked those "Pink Pills for Pale People", and made many millions off them—a huge sum for that time. And what do you do when you have that much money? Why, build a house. He bought land on a rise overlooking the St. Lawrence, tore down the mansion that was already there, and built one of stone, which has something like 65 rooms in it.


All for his wife and their two children. Plus, of course, an Italianate garden designed by the same guy who did Central Park in NYC. And a boathouse bigger than most of our houses. He had one other child (the first son, so the first one who could inherit all that wealth), but then was killed in an auto accident in 1905, having lived in this house only three years.

That afternoon, we went through the Millionaire's Row of the Thousand Islands. They were grand homes, of the rich and famous from the early Twentieth Century. And probably the grandest was the Boldt Castle
(http://www.boldtcastle.com/visitorinfo/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/aerial-castle.jpg), built by the Manager of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in NYC for his wife, and never lived in (his wife died during the construction and he was bereft, so cancelled the project as it was nearing completion). It has something like 150 rooms in the main house, plus a children's playhouse which had another fifteen or so rooms, an a few other out-buildings. All on one island, and intended only for a summer home. Ah, the Good Old Days!

We put in that evening at Gananoque (known as "Gan" by the locals) for the night, and had a brief visit to the 1000 Islands Skydeck. Here are a few pictures from the deck (and one from the ground):








That evening, we were to stay in Gan, and we had friends there (Don and Marion Matthews), so we went and had a very pleasant evening catching up with them, and reminiscing over what Dundas was like when they lived here 14 years ago.

We got back to the ship in time for me to have a dance with Laurie at the evening's entertainment. That was fun.

The following morning, we had a tour of the remaining Islands, plus a tour of the historical Museum for Gananoque, and then took a leisurely ride into Kingston. We docked, said our good-byes, and it was all over but the train ride.





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Location:Kingston, Ontario

Days of Locks and History

As promised, we had an early start. The engines woke us before six, and we ere on our way. We had a lot of locks to go through to get from Montréal to Upper Canada Village, where we were to spend the night.

First was the St. Lambert Lock. For us, this had significance, because we had lived across the river from it, and many times have crossed the Victoria Bridge which goes over it. So it was wonderful to see it from inside, for once.

Those great doors, pushing back walls of water, and yet the ship rises really quite quickly, once we are set in place. Locks were first developed on the St. Lawrence about 250 years ago. When it opened in 1959, this one in St. Lambert replaced the Lachine Canal.


























These photos are actually of the next locks, at Beauharnois. but the shots are similar to what we saw in the other locks. The yellow things that look like suction cups are just that: for the very large ships, these attach to the sides of the vessel, and then the vessel has no need to tie up—saving them money and time.

There were two locks at Beauharnois, then one at Eisenhower, and one at Iroquois and Snell. A lot of locking today. Part of the problem with this, is that we spent the entire day on the ship. while it is a very pleasant environment, we are in a position of definite caloric surplus.

Having said that, the locks were a wanna-be engineer's dream (and we know that big boys like big toys). And we had a relatively early evening stop, at the Upper Canada Village Marina. Last night, we watched a wonderful magic show given by a man called Chris Pilsworth (www.borntoamaze.com). Totally awesome: Darlene was asked to be part of one of the tricks, and she had no idea how it was done. And, thankfully, we were not going to be woken at six with the engines, since the morning would be spent at the Village.

And so it was. The morning, after breakfast, we took a miniature train from the Marina to the Upper Canada Village, where they had called in staff and kept the place open, mostly for us. We had a wonderful two-hour visit there, and then were back on the ship for our trip through the last (Iroquois) Lock, before stopping for a time in Prescott to visit Fort Wellington, a fort from the Wars of 1812 and the Rebellions of 1848-52. Interesting, but had to be cut short because of a backup of traffic on the Seaway which made us an hour late. (Again, they kept the place open for us—terrific.)

Then back to the boat, supper on board while they moved the boat to Brockville for the night. And here we sit.








The picture is of the final dam which we went through (the Iroquois Dam and Lock) before docking at Prescott.

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Location:Prescott, Ontario

Ville Marie

After another early rise, thanks to the boat's engines, we were off to Montréal. We were excited by the prospect of being in the city again, having a nostalgic and romantic memory of our times there all those years ago.

We passed Sorel, with its islands, and its boatyards. Then on to the islands just downriver from Montréal, and finally to the large refineries of east Montréal. For me, it was thrilling to see the island from the river. We passed by Île Notre-Dame, then by the site of Expo 67, and into the Old Port.



Where we put in was at the end of the old Lachine Canal, and we were once again thrilled to see the Five Roses flour sign we had lived near during our time in Montréal.


The crew had organized a tour of the city. We had debated whether to go on it or not, and in the end, went. Perhaps a mistake, but we saw the St. Joseph's Oratory, Mount Royal, and various sites along the way. We stopped for a few photo ops of the East Montréal landscape.


Then back to the ship, a quiet supper, and an evening of musical entertainment with a flautist and a guitarist, before getting to bed again.

One of the exciting things: our captain had to leave the ship, but for a good reason. His wife went into labour with his first child. So we were stuck in Old Montréal for the night (terrific!), because they needed a new pilot before they could do the locks we were coming up to. But it meant an early morning the next day.


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Location:Montréal, Québec

Goin' Up the River

No matter what the "location" tag says, we are actually in the middle of the St. Lawrence River, some hours above Quebec, on our way to Trois-Rivieres.

We had a wonderful time in Quebec, rediscovering old places, and finding new ones. I don't think we did a lot of the tourist things, but we still managed to amuse ourselves. Lots of walking, up and down hills, allowed us the fantasy that we were burning off enough calories to enjoy guilt-free good meals. Our host at La Maison Daulac was Mme Cécile Paradis, who (it turns out) is an amazing cook, at least for breakfast. I had her fruits cup and muffin, followed by a crepe, and was ready for a morning nap. However, the day was cool but sunny, so we went off. Walking took us soon to the "ascenseur" where Darlene caught a ride up the escarpment, and I took the stairs out of some misguided manliness. we stopped for a look over the part of town where we had spent the night.










But that was only a part of the way up. the streets still would test the brakes of any car. And any walker.

Lots of walking down small side streets, finding our way to one of the tourist areas where we came across a shop (Oliv) which sold olive oils and balsamic vinegars. So we now have six extra bottles of things to bring home with us.

And then to the Dufferin Terrace for a sit-down rest, some more walking through the streets to the area of the Porte St-Louis. Across this to the Assemblé Nationale building, and along its promenade, eventually getting back to Grande-Allée where we stopped for a coffee (yes, a Starbucks).

Some more wandering found us again in the Lower Town, and ready for a late lunch/early supper. Where we had wanted to go, a place we had visited last year, was a diner-like place called Buffet de l'Antiquaire. It had posted a sign that it was taking only cash, and this led to me leaving Darlene in a sunny place, and me heading off to find a cash machine. No luck with that, But luck in another way: we found a lovely restaurant just down the street, Le Mistral Gagnant. He not only let us in early (his chef had not even arrived) and provided us with a glass of wine each, but later went on to serve us a wonderful meal of "riz-de-veau" in my case, and lamb in Darlene's. All done in a Provincal way that appealed to us.









We must have walked over fifteen kilometres that day, so bed felt good, and sleep was just fine.

Yesterday was my birthday. Nothing special, but another fine breakfast with Mme Paradis, and this time off on a sunny morning for a walk along the St-Charles River nearby. We walked both sides of the river, through a national park which was pretty amazing as well, before heading back to the Lower Town in search of the phantom ATM. This time, we found it, all of fifty yards from where we had been the previous night. And armed with this new-found wealth, ate our lunch at the Buffet de l'Antiquaire (again, very good).

Our trip back to the B&B by foot, passed us by the quai where our boat was moored, and then walked back to room for a brief rest and the retrieval of our bags.

Then on to the actual boat, the first line-up of the day, as we got on the ship and found our room. Settling in was swift, and then a supper. We had been told we would go for a tour of the harbour at night, but the wind had whipped up the river enough that it was cancelled. An early night.

Next morning, the ship's engines got us up about six, and we went up to watch the sunrise over the town








And then we had to go into a lock to get out of the harbour. What? I asked myself...but the harbour is actually kept at a constant water level, while the river is tidal. We went down almost six feet from harbour to river.








Then a final look back at the wonderful city of Québec, and we were off into the River, on our way to Trois-Rivières.








From here, it was simply a matter of steaming along the river, against the current (which is surprisingly strong for a river this broad). The shore was sometimes rocky, sometimes flat agricultural land. Sometimes houses, sometimes forest or farmland.





And we pulled into town almost right on schedule, and went off on a tour of the Shrine at Cap-de-la-Madeleine. This Catholic shrine is a bit vulgar in its size and self-aggrandizement, but the little chapel that started the whole thing is kind of charming. I have a picture of the statue of the Virgin Mary that began the whole thing (admittedly rather fancied up).




After the tour, we walked into town, bought a Globe and some lip balm. The city itself is the centre of the pulp and paper industry for most of North America, and still has four functioning mills. In spite of the decline in demand for newsprint, it seems to be doing okay—so far. A pleasant downtown, which seems to be alive.

However, we were not so alive. Back to the boat, supper, and a mixing-type game of Trivia, and off to bed. It's surprising how tired you can get doing almost nothing except eat and read!

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Location:Place Bussières,Deschaillons-sur-Saint-Laurent,Canada

Quebec encore

We were here last year, about this time of year. This year, it was a lot colder than last: only two degrees when we got up this morning. but today the sun is out, and that makes all the difference (yesterday was raining off and on, windy, grey, not pleasant).



So yesterday, after a wonderful breakfast at our B&B, and a short nap to help with its digestion, we went out for a walk along Rue St-Joseph, revisiting a quartier that we had liked so much last year. and then went to the Marche du vieux-port, another favourite from last year. so, in spite of all, it was a good day, topped off with a wonderful dinner at L'Affaire est Ketchup—just as good as last year's meal. The picture above is of a window display along the main street in our quartier. the picture below is of Darlene's appetizer last night.



Today we will be more ambitious. up to the Upper Town, then down again to Lower Town, wander along the river, and check out some places we missed last year.

More to come.


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Location:Rue Letellier,Quebec City,Canada

A Retired Persons' Weekend in Stratford

This is titled as such because, as retirees, weekends don't act as such. It was actually two days, Thursday and Friday, this week. We had planned to go the see two different matinees at Stratford. First was "The Sound of Music", followed by "Diary of Anne Frank": both known quantities, but both well-reviewed.

And there was to be some adventure. This was to be the longest trip we have ever taken in our electric car. It has a range of about 115 kilometres on a charge, and the B and B was about 95. And we knew there were charging stations in Stratford, so we felt pretty confident.

I was concerned that it would be so hot we would have to use the air conditioner in the car (which reduces the distance we can go). The temperature was fine, but I hadn't considered that the rain that was happening would necessitate the defroster, which also used the air conditioning. It was a bit scary to be going down the highway with the estimated range below the actual distance. However, we used the defroster only intermittently, and the rain stopped, so we seemed okay. Back roads, careful driving (we achieved 100% efficiency on their scale—an achievement that probably means little, but feels good), and we not only got there with power to spare, but saw some lovely back country as well.

We had planned to get thee in enough time to get some lunch before the performance. First stop, the B and B. We met Lara, our host, dropped our bags, and looked through the lovely victorian-era house. Then off to the Parlour Inn in downtown Stratford for a leisurely and lovely lunch, before the short walk to the Avon Theatre. We even had time to spare.



When we got to the theatre, we had about ten minutes to get seated. Got into line for our balcony seats, and began to wait. It was only then that I looked closely enough to the ticket to realize that the Sound of Music was at the Festival Theatre, not the Avon. We had a crosstown drive to get there. Panic!

I ran ahead to get the car. Darlene came behind me, more closely than I had thought. So when I went racing off from the parking lot, I failed to notice her, and went right by, then had to turn around to pick her up. By now it was almost curtain time. We got to the Festival Theatre as fast as the lights would let us. But now where to park? As i checked the close streets, with dwindling time, I chose to do what I have only thought about doing before: parked between two cars, perpendicular to the curb, and we went as fast as possible the single block to the theatre. Got there only five minutes late, and were seated after the first two songs of the musical.

And what a musical it was. It is hokey, hackneyed, overly-well known, and probably too simplistic. But it was wonderful to be part of it. The acting and singing were good, the sets were terrific, the emotions ran high. Lots of tears. We loved it.

And the sun was out in a clear sky after the performance. So we walked the gardens, found the charging station in that area, and then returned to the B and B. We thought we might go back into town for supper later on, but really were not that hungry. We had a lovely talk with Lara about this and that, before heading to bed by nine-thirty. The car had been partially charged while we had had our lunch, but we needed to plug it in and wish it a good night as well. A hot but otherwise comfortable night, and we were up for breakfast the next morning, bright and early.

Friday was our second play: Anne Frank. The local Stratford Perth Museum had an exhibit on the story of Anne Frank to coincide with the production, and had many of the material on loan from the Netherlands. Plus, the added bonus on having a EV charger are well.

We found the place, just outside of town, and pulled into the place for the charge. A man came out from the Museum, very excited, since they had just put it in and we were the first people to use it. They took a picture and we are now on Twitter for the Museum! The exhibit was good, too.

On back to town for a good lunch at Red Rabbit, then a coffee at Revell, a local coffee shop. Checked the tickets twice, the off to the Avon. This performance was a very different one than the previous day. This was drama, this was not light in mood, but it was also wonderful. Very hard, very moving: we stood in the theatre for several minutes after the play before we could talk and move outside.

Eventually, we got back to present-day, and retrieved the car. A pleasant (mostly) drive home, stopping for supper at the Cookhouse in Rockton for a good dinner, before getting home with still a 30% charge in the car.

And so went an untypical weekend in the life of a retired couple...


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Location:Stratford, Ontario

Time at Durham

This vacation was to be more or less divided into three segments: birthday, Germany, and Durham. So this is the third.

After Pat left, we had a few days before we were to come up to the City of Durham (being educated now to know that a settlement is a city if it has a cathedral, whatever its size). The first of those days, a Sunday, we went into London to St. Bride's Church for an Evensong. We had been there is the winter, and enjoyed the music. So wanted to go back again. And it did not disappoint—although we could have done without the sermon that told us to obey the orders of the magistrate, and to be a good followers. The next day was a quiet day, with some walking about, but more staying by the flat and watching the cats play. Dan worked at home, Katy at her workplace. Dinner at the Grange. The following day included a lunch with all the women (Darlene, Katy, and Claire [Katy's mother]) meeting on a fancy boat-cum-diner on the Thames. And Dan and I made a picnic lunch and ate at the local park, called Spa Park. It was a lovely warm, sunny day, and the lunch was a good time for us all to connect.

That evening, we prepared for our journey up to the town of Katy's University education. I was excited to be going. And the town did not disappoint. We caught the train at Kings Cross Station, for the three-hour ride up there. Countryside was flat and agricultural, once we got out of London.

And then we got to Durnham. The hills had begun a few kilometres south of the town, and we could see some of the larger hills off to the east. But the Cathedral and the Castle are up on a central hill in town. And they dominate the town.

We walked into town, which involved going downhill, and through some cobbled streets to our B&B, which was near the town centre. And what a lovely old town, at least the tourist part of it.

The river Wear (pronounced "we're") has an oxbow loop around the cathedral and the castle, and this of course was where the Normans decided to build about a millennium ago. And build they did. The cathedral is magnificent, and a blend of the Norman and Gothic styles appropriate to its age.

Of course, Dan and I had to take a tour, and this included going up the tower. Some three hundred steps, the last hundred or so being narrow enough that you could easily touch both walls of the staircase (and you had to yell ahead to make sure there was none coming the other way, since there was no place to allow passing). At the top, the open area was dizzying. A wind made it a little more vertiginous for me, but I eventually got my feet planted and took some pictures.

Further tourist activities ensued, mixed with wonderful decadent suppers and stops for libations of various kinds. Dan and I also did a Castle tour, and learned that this area was one where there was an explicit understanding of the political influence of the church—so much that it is the only part of England that had what they called "prince-bishops". And they were powerful enough that William (the conqueror) had to ensure he had his own man in power there. We had a terrific two days there, including walking about most of the centre of town. And there was a quite loud thunderstorm during our stay as well, just to add some drama.

Then back to London, another day at Dan and Katy's place (which included a barbecue with many of their friends on the Saturday night), and then it was done. We left early in the morning on Sunday, July 5, for our return trip back to soggy Dundas.

Overall, a very successful and rewarding vacation.

Addendum: I also wanted to make a note of the Norman chapel we saw at Durham Castle. This is actually one of the first buildings that the Normans constructed when the took over this area from the Saxons. It was built almost a millennium ago, was small in scope/size and partly underground. We were not allowed to take pictures inside it, so I can't show what it looks like. But it is rectangular, supported by strong pillars made of local sandstone. Walls are very thick, as you would guess. But it has some interesting features.

First, the sandstone that they used has a fair amount of iron in it. So the pillars are actually rusting. We were warned not to touch them, since this could lead to some of the stone actually flaking off (the moisture is high enough and damaging enough that the chapel is about to be closed for two years to try and dehumidify and rectify this).

Second, the floor has a herringbone pattern of stones, laid out in the stone tiles. This is more typical of Saxon architecture, not used by the Normans. So where does that come from?

Third, the capitals of the columns are carved with snakes and even a mermaid, again, not typical of Norman carving. And the people carved into the stone are seen in a praying posture, with their arms up, rather than their hands together as they would have been in Norman life. So where does this carving come from, and why is it more Saxon than you would suppose?

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Time in Germany

After the birthday celebrations, things quited down a bit. We had a few days remaining before going to Germany, and this was the bulk of our time with Pat here. One of the days, we spent moslty in Hyde Park. We had been there at Christmastime, when there was a large and noisy Christmas fair in the park. So, for me, it was pleasant to see it in more pastoral times. For those who don't know, it is a large central park in London, just blocks from Buckingham Palace and Westminster, but miles away in temperament. There is a large "Serpentine" lake, with paddleboats and rowboats (and, in a move to modernity, a solar-powered boat). Lots of green space, several coffee stalls as well as a few restaurants, and some wonderful plantings. You could almost forget you were in the middle of a large city. We had a lunch in one of the restaurants, walked a bit, read a bit, and fell asleep on the grass.

Getting home was a challenge. We of course left it late, so were leaving the park at rush hour. and the raffic was terrifying: swift, voluminous, jammed with buses, cars and bicycles—all of which seemed intent on getting as close as possible to the surrounding vehicles. I don't ever want to drive in this city! Lots of discussion and consulting of maps, but eventually we got home with minimal confrontation among us. A very pleasant day with our son.

On the other day, we walked along the Thames, from here at Dan's place to the Tate Modern, which is housed in an old power plant, converted to a vast warehouse of a place to house modern art. Not my cup of tea exactly, but nice to have seen. And the weather was good for a walk along the water.

Thursday was our journey to visit our nephew Ben, his wife Jutta, and their children Jason and Dylan (8 and 6 yrs old). Dan had arranged for a cab to get us to the station. The cab driver was a man in his sixties, still driving because he likes it. And his radio was tuned to classical music. A nice change from the rock we usually get. Then we caught the train to Gatwick, and got onto the plane for the two-hour flight to Munich. We don't have the kind of cheap airlines that they have in Europe: here you can't recline your seats, the headrests are fixed, the legroom is below minimal, and every bit of food or drink is charged for. On top of this, you get asked a few times during the flight if you wish to buy things from their store. Again, not to my liking, but at least it was relatively cheap. And Ben was there at the airport to meet us after going through immigration (a rather perfunctory process). Shortly, we were in the quiet town of Eichenau, where they live in a very nice house mostly in the country.

We got a warm reception from Jutta, and eventually saw the boys as they arrived home from School. Sat outside eating in the forested area behind their house, enjoying the sounds of the birds, but not the buzzing of the mosquitoes.

Our next two days were a wonderful belnd of activity and talks, sitting, walking, eating, playing with the kids (chess and badminton, as well as other board and card games). It was easy, comfortable, friendly. We felt really welcomed and accepted. We spent Saturday on a trip to the Ammersee, a large lake, had a ferry ride to a small town, then walked about five kilometres back to our starting place for a lunch under the trees with water before us.

Then back home to Eichenau. It was a special day also for Ben and Jutta, as this was to be the first time ever that Dylan had slept away from home (in this case, he was on a sleepover to mark the end of the kindergarten school year). So some excitement/anxiety as a result. However, Jason rose to the occasion, and kept us all busy through the evening—a pleasant one in the back yard. Jason took me on at chess and handily beat the pants off me.

Of course, at the other end of Dylan's sleepover, there was also excitement. Dylan came home, dramatically announcing that he had slept only two hours, and being often grumpy (not surprisingly). His natural good humour was still there, and was pretty easily coaxed out of him by Ben or Jutta. And even though he did not sleep, he managed to get through the day—a day where we walked through the enighbouring forest to see the shelters that had been set up, walked over to a stone labyrinth, and then home through a gentle rain. Badminton and trampoline were next. A brief supper, and it was off to the airport, for a return flight. We knew we would be late, but it turned out that we missed our train on the London end, and got into Setchell Road about 1 AM. We wanted to see Pat before he headed back to Victoria (which he was set to do the following day). So we woke as well at 6AM to see him off, then returned to bed for an additional four hours sleep.

 

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Darlene becomes a Senior!

This will be an interesting blog post. We are in London, I am using a new blog tool, and hopefully it will go well, from the writing point of view.

Dan, Katy (Dan's girlfriend), and I had conspired to make this a special trip to England in many ways. But primarily, since it was Darlene's 65th birthday time, we had a surprise up our collective sleeve. We arranged to have Pat come from Victoria to London to be with us, so we would have the entire family together for the first time ever (I'm including Katy in the family now, you see). This was all to be a surprise for Darlene: Pat would also be there at the airport to meet us, and we would try to record Darlene's reaction.

And it went quite well. Pat had arrived about three hours before we did, Dan and Katy went to meet him and had some time with him. Then Katy and Dan came to meet us as we left the customs/baggage area, leading us carefully our to a spot where we would stop for a picture. Katy worked the camera, and while she was taking the picture, Pat came up behind her. Fair to say that Darlene was suitable surprised!

Stepping back a bit, there were some final moments of drama before we left Toronto. Our ride to the airport was uneventful, and we got checked in and through security without too much trouble. Then Darlene decided to go back out briefly before boarding the plane. Well, it turns out that there is an enormous number of people catching the flights about the same time as ours, so she was held up for a long time in the returning line-up, and we were the last people onto the plane, settling into our seats just as they were closing the doors. The good news is that we made it, and the seats were very good.

So, back to London. Long ride into town from the airport, some talk and snacks when we got in, then a nap for some of us (like me). A very pleasant supper, and getting our stuff to the room where Darlene and I were to stay, and we were tired enough to sleep again.

Friday was a lazy day. Dan was off work, Pat slept in, we slept in, so we eventually had lunch instead of breakfast, at the local pub. It was great! Leisurely, tasty, congenial. Some walking about, and then back to the flat. Darlene and I booked tickets to go to a concert at St. Martin-in-the-Fields: Bach and Vivaldi in a wonderful setting, while the sun was setting. Dan, Pat, and friends were at the Temple Brew House for a night of beer tasting, and so on. Photo is from our seat at the church, with the sun setting.

The following day, being a Saturday, meant an obligatory trip to the Maltby Market nearby. This is very classy market, with wonderful food, as well as a champagne bar and a gin bar — you get the picture. The morning went quickly, what with shopping and all.

Supper was to be a supper club event that Dan and Katy participate in, and was to be at their place. But there were a lot of cancellations, so he event was cancelled and we ate at home, another wonderful meal. (We should be thankful that the supper club folks missed out, so there was more for us.) And the next day was a barbecue at Katy's parents place.

We actually went there via a Hindu temple that Dan and Katy had been meaning to see. What a display of ornate carving of stone and wood! And the icons, and the prayers, were elaborate. I found it a bit too much (Protestant that I am), but I'm glad to have seen it. Then on to the Bennett's, where we saw Jim and Claire again, and were warmly greeted. They took Darlene and I out their "allotment", and proudly showed off the garden work that Jim was doing. And then back to the house for the meal of many meats, lots of food, and too much wine (for me). The elder men, +\- Patrick, held forth in vino veritas, and solved many of the world's ills, before being poured into a cab and driven back to our little room.

Fortunately (?) for me, I don't suffer from hangovers. The next day was to be our special tea at Fortnum and Mason, for Darlene's birthday. It began with a lovely birthday celebration and breakfast at Dan's hands (with, I'm sure, Katy's help), before heading downtown to the store. For those that don't know the store, it is high class even within the high standards of London shopping. And the tea did not disappoint. Lots of varieties of actual tea, many sandwiches, scones with clotted cream and jams, and of course cakes. We left feeling well-stuffed. A tour through the store confirmed what we knew: lovely things for sale at only about three times what I would think they were worth.

And then some walking, more presents for the lady, and the birthday was well-celebrated.

More to come....

 

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And back to Windsor

As per my previous post, we had decided to go back to Windsor rather than on to London or Brantford. So yesterday, we biked to Belle River. This involved going a bit back towards Kingsville, then heading more or less North. We went through some interesting little towns. One, the town of Olinda, where we stopped to read the bronze plaque, talking about the Unitarian Universalist Church. I was so fascinated I took a picture of it, and will include it when I am able.

This land is flat. It helps to remind us of why we don't want to ride across the prairies. And the wind...well, that's even more of a concern. Yesterday was a pleasant enough day as far as temperature went, but we were going upwind most of the day. So the forty-odd kilometres between Leamington and Belle River seemed a lot longer.



Belle River is right on Lake St Clair, not really one of the Great Lakes, but connected nonetheless. I had been through this lake when I worked on a Great Lakes research vessel forty years ago. At that time, I remember Lake St. clear as a dead lake, an example of the worst that we as polluters have done to out waterways. So I was relieved and pleased to see that the lake was pretty clean, turbid, but not dead. People were fishing in it, although it was clearly too cold to swim in it. When Barry and I walked down to the Marina and looked around, the day was bright and clear, and everything looked good. The town was fine, we had a nice supper, and stayed in a B&B that was in an old home and pretty comfortable. So a good day overall.



Today, we had a relatively easy ride, just thirty km. to Windsor itself. Most of this was along the lakefront and riverfront. Big homes, lots of money evident, and a fair bit of traffic. But we got to town, found the VIA Station, and dropped out bikes (they will be put on the train at 5:30 tomorrow morning, and we will follow them at 9:00).

I have a much better impression about Windsor than I was prepared to have. The waterfront area has been made into a park, and is beautiful. The bike trails are pretty good and pretty complete. It is really nice...except for the downtown. After we checked into the hotel, we walked around the downtown area. It looks like hat you would see in Detroit, rather than on this side of the border. Empty storefronts, lots of marginal-looking people, scary locations. We went for an early supper, in part so we could walk back to the hotel in daylight.

Spring will come....someday!

We are so glad that we stayed in the same place yesterday.

We had a great walk, a lovely afternoon nap, and another great meal at the Anchor and Wheel (again, broiled pickerel). And this morning, after a night rainfall, began with wind and cold once more. Temperature I think was about five degrees, wind from the north (so coming in over the water, which is even colder than that) at about 20 kph. And when we looked from our room over to the in , the owner wasn't yet there. So we even had to wait for an hour for our first cup of mediocre coffee.



Our plan had been to tour the Island today, and we already knew that the only place to get a cooked lunch was the Legion, so that kind of fit the plan. Bags were packed, and left at the Inn, and we took off on a circle tour of the island.



The first part was easy and fast, with the wind at our backs. We were sailing along at over 24 kph as we headed south. Along the way, we spied that the bike shop was open, so we stopped. A lovely lady, wife of the mayor of Pelee, runs the shop and we talked about business, about the island, and such. Then tried to get into the local Museum, but it was locked up and dark. As we wound our way around the island, we passed by scrub bush, farmers fields, woodland, housing/cottages. And the wind was a instant companion. Our hands were cold, my knees got chilled, but we persisted until we were back at the Anchor Inn to get our goods. The tour was about thirty km. long. Fortunately, we had the wind at our back again as we went down to the Legion for lunch.



Then we had to put in a few hours until the ferry left. The Museum was closed, the Legion kicked us out at 2:00 (they were closing). We decided to see if the winery was open ( we also considered crushing the aisles of the LCBO, which was open as well). When we went to Pelee Island Winery, it was closed, but there was a man inside working on some woodwork to get ready for their opening. He said we could come in and look around if we wished: another really kind and trusting person on this island.



The ferry left at four, and we had a short bike ride to our B&B. This B&B, on the shores of Lake Erie, was hit by a tornado about five years ago. She lost some forty trees, many of the 200-year old oak trees, picked up and laid down like match-sticks. She is still recovering. Fortunately, she and the house were unaffected. She was nice to us, even driving us downtown to get supper (a lovely Vietnamese restaurant), before us coming back to bed down for the night.



We travelled 38 km by bike today, not too shabby for the conditions.





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Location:Seacliff Dr W,Leamington,Canada

Pelee Redux

What a difference a day can make! Yesterday we came to this Island from Colchester Harbour, fighting a cold easterly wind the entire day. It was only forty-odd kilometres, but felt like eighty. Skies were grey, hands were cold, the scenery not much to talk of.



But let me go back. We had stayed in Colchester Harbour with Anne and Dennis - she a ball of energy seemingly helping with everything that is going on in the small town. We had the run of the upper floor of the house being the only guests there. And it looked out over the Lake, so that was not too bad at all. Of course a few birds at the feeder, and a fisherman out on the pier just to complete the Rockwell stereotype. A magnificent, decadent, and abundant breakfast leaving us quite sated and lazy. But the day was unfolding and we had to be off.



We began down the road, the wind was strong, and it was cold. But we pedalled on. Progress was slow, and there were a few words of complaint, to be sure. But we soldiered on. Through some old factories and truck yards, on to Kingsville. There we went to a bike shop on a quest for a mirror for Barry, and a respite in a coffee shop for some soup and hot liquids. Back on the bike, and finally to Leamington. We had some time to kill, and another warm soup was in order before getting onto the ferry for the ninety-minute trip across to Pelee Island.



But we were not yet "home". The ferry dock is five km. from the B&B, and we were keen to get there. It was a push, stopping only to take a picture of the sunset,

and arriving to a warm welcome from Marty and Mark, who run the place. We are the only guests here, and they have the only restaurant open on the island right now. They gave us warm food, well cooked (local pickerel - yum), turned on the heat in our room, and generally made us at home. It was cold enough that the room took until two in the morning to heat up.



Through the night, the wind was blowing like crazy. At one point, it sounded like there was an animal scratching at the door. After a while, my curiosity got the better of me, and I went to look. Turned out to be a piece of carpet that had blown up against the door, and was rubbing on it, scratching. Shades of some horror movie.



Somewhere through the night, the wind died down. The morning broke clear, cold, and calm. But it was a relief. Our host had made some coffee in the main place, and pulled out some Special K for a quasi-breakfast. But this day seemed so much better than the last, that we changed our plans. We would stay here another night, and bike back through Belle River to Windsor, instead of trying to get to Brantford. Those arrangements were made, and we celebrated by walking back to the ferry dock to the Legion, which is the only place to get lunch on the Island.



That was a treat. They were serving pulled pork hot sandwiches on brown bread, smothered in gravy, with Cole slaw and fresh cut French fries. Out of the past it came, right to our plates. But as interesting as this was, the people there were almost as interesting. A young woman came and asked us how the biking was going, and said she had seen us this morning walking around the area. Another man came over and asked us if we wished to have lottery tickets to help a kids camp, with the prizes being a shotgun or a crossbow; we declined. He claimed to be the person who re-introduced turkeys to the Island, and told us that they were about to have a turkey hunt here. And on our way walking home, we had a man stop his truck to ask if we wanted a lift. Another truck also stopped to congratulate us on our walk, and joke with us about not looking too much like turkeys.



Well, all this could only lead to one conclusion: we came home and had an afternoon nap.

Picture is of the dining room of the Anchor and Wheel: straight out of the sixties, beach kitsch!



Supper again here, everyone seeming to have American accents. One character, born on the Island, swearing he used to be in the tourist industry but wouldn't do it any more. Another, a farmer here and on the mainland, drinking quite a lot before getting into his truck to drive home. It's a different life.



But the day was wonderful. Sun, calm, exercise, good food, a sense on life in this small and self-knowing community. Tomorrow we will bike the Island before catching the ferry back to Leamington in the evening.





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Location:Canada (West Shore Rd. Pelee Island)