The highlight of the second week of Cork and Dee’s visit was a trip to Niagara Falls.
I didn’t like having to board the dogs but didn’t have a lot of choice. We dropped them off the morning we left on our trip. Mike and I took the girls to the same kennel Rosie and Lamar entrust Tux to. All three of them are lined in the photo. Raini on the left, Bondi in the middle, and Tux on the right. We could have saved money if we wanted Raini and Bondi to be in the same kennel but with their history of spats, we decided it more prudent just to pay extra and keep them separate. They were next to each other and if they went outside at the same time, they could see each other through the wire fencing.
I took tons of photos on this trip. Absolutely tons! More than twelve hundred during the three days. Do they really need to see more farm pictures? I asked myself. Or not-very-good shots of hawks in trees? I decided to keep the farm pictures and delete the hawk pictures. That’s probably my best choice. Still and all, there’s 181 pictures left!
I use two cameras these days. One is for zoom only and the other is for everything else. Because they label the pictures different, all the photos from the zoom camera are listed first, then the other camera’s pictures. It gives me a headache zipping back and forth trying to keep the sequence straight. In cases like this, where they’re landscape pictures, it won’t matter if I show you the afternoon photos before I show you the morning ones. I’m only telling you in case you should happen to catch the discrepancy.
Late morning on the first day of our adventure, we found a diner to have a bite to eat. Cork and Dee don’t usually eat breakfast but Mike and I had already had ours. While they ordered breakfast, we had lunch. This is the first time I’ve ever had pizza soup and it was actually quite tasty.
“Peg, you sure are a messy eater!” you say.
I know, right! Actually, I think she slopped it when she brought it to the table because it was full to the top when I got it.
Then we were back on the road.
This was a large working dairy farm at one time, I’m guessing.
I don’t know if it is anymore or not but as we zoomed by on our way to the Falls, I snapped photos of the house. Right behind it, on the same property, is another dwelling.
I can’t help but wonder if this multi-family unit is or was where he housed his helpers.
Then we were there. The US and Canadian border.
We were almost to Niagara Falls when we got a call from our hotel.
“Due to plumbing issues, we’ve moved your reservation to a different hotel,” the gal said.
“At the same rate?” Cork asked.
“Yes, the rate will remain the same,” she confirmed.
“Will we still have a view of the Falls from our room?”
“Yes, you’ll still have a Falls view.”
She made sure we agreed to the transfer before she hung up.
We pulled into the parking garage of the Hilton, parked in a fifteen-minute space, and checked in. To park in the parking garage was sixty-five dollars a day. Canadian money. That equates to forty-eight dollars and six cents American and doesn’t sound quite as bad.
We drove around the block a couple of times, deciding on the relative safety of the parking garage compared to cheaper street parking.
This glass hotel/casino fascinated me. I didn’t know that our room overlooked it as well as the Falls. I would’ve liked to have gone inside to look around but time, as well as bad backs and gimpy knees, didn’t allow.
We took our bags to our rooms and rested for a while before going back out.
The view from my window had a great view of the American side of the Falls.
There was too much stuff between us and the Canadian Falls to have a good view of it.
Mike napped while I zoomed in on various aspects of my view. The elevators going up and down the Skylon Tower.
The buildings on the other side of the river.
The skywalk and elevators down to the ferry launch.
A landscaper pulling weeds from the flower beds of that glass hotel across from us.
We met back up with Cork and Dee made our way down to the Concierge desk. Frank recommended a guided tour to some of the most popular tourist spots, and the best part, we didn’t have to drive.
We booked our reservations for the next morning. Then asked about eating spots.
“What kind of food are you looking for?” he asked.
“Italian sausage.” Both Cork and Mike are big fans.
Frank told us about an “excellent Italian restaurant” a few blocks away. He gave us directions and told us to tell them he sent us. Then we hoofed it down there.
A few blocks turned out to be five or so, and much too long of a walk for two old guys, one of whom has a bad back and the other a bad knee. We got there fifteen minutes before opening, so we found places to sit, rest, and check our messages.
They did NOT have Italian sausage sandwiches! We made do and ordered from the menu. We told them Frank sent us but that didn’t get us a discount or anything. The food was okay, but definitely not worth the walk!
On the way back, I saw a black squirrel with a nut in his mouth pop up out of the tall grass.
I watched as he found a spot and started to dig. By then we were near enough that it spooked him and he took off for the tall grasses again. We didn’t wait for him to come back out so I don’t know if he found a place to hide his nut for the winter or not.
We side-tracked on our way back to the hotel to ride to the top of the Skylon Tower. I’m going to tell you right now that I’m not a big fan of the open-air elevator ride experience. I much prefer my elevators to be thoroughly ensconced in four walls.
The view of the American Falls wasn’t much better than from my room, whereas it was a much better view of the Canadian Falls.
Once at the top, I had no choice but to ride the elevator back down. A ride of less than a minute can seem much longer when you’re not enjoying it.
Walking back to our hotel, we see someone’s worldly belongings piled on a couple of carts and left just off the walkway near a bank.
“Homeless?” Mike asked.
“I guess,” I answered as I scanned nearby for the owner. I didn’t see anyone so I guess they don’t worry about theft.
Another squirrel, nut in mouth, scampered across our path.
The pedestrian walkway spanned a road. Looking down, I see a gal sleeping against the wall of the overhead bridge.
“Do you think it was her stuff we saw back there?” I asked.
“Nah. Too far away,” Mike guessed.
After we got back to our room, Mike laid down and turned the TV on. It wasn’t long before the combination of the newscaster’s monotone, and of his own worn-out body caused him to succumb to sleep.
I sat at the window and watched as the lights came on.
The lights of the glass hotel in front of us changed as did the lights of the Falls.
I sat there, watching, taking tons of photos, until the fireworks. Mike got up and watched with me.
Sometime after, when the fireworks were over and they turned off the lights on the Falls, sometime in the middle of the night, they divert water from the falls to the hydroelectric plant.
We woke up to a red sun the next morning. It’s likely the wildfires were the cause.
I could see outside from inside the bathroom. There was a window above the garden tub. The toilet was private behind a narrow wall. If you wanted to watch from there, you’d have to lean pretty far to the right to see around it.
My handsome mountain man in the morning sun.
We were told to be in a certain area of the lobby fifteen minutes early to meet our bus. We were there twenty minutes early and others had already beaten us to the few available seats.
People-watching, I saw this couple. They’re so stinkin’ cute! I wished now that I’d’ve taken the time to get their email address so I could send them this picture.
Our bus arrived. Our driver, Ron, herded us onto the bus, doing a headcount as we climbed aboard. One of the advantages of being in a group was that it allowed us to skip some of the lines. Our first stop was Journey Behind the Falls. Ron handed us off to a guide who took us inside the building. She had us wait while she got our tickets. Being near the front of the line, I could hear the conversation.
“What’s the driver’s name?” the ticket lady asked.
The guide didn’t know, turned and asked us.
“Ron!” several people called across the space separating us.
“I don’t have a Ron,” I heard her say. We had to wait and wait as she input whatever information she had to in order to print our tickets. Then we were led around the long lines to a special elevator set aside for group tours. The attendants gave out rain ponchos, which we were told we may or may not need, depending on the wind. I, for one, took no chances. I put it on so I had a place to stash my cameras so they didn’t get too wet.
We left the outside viewing platform and went back down the tunnel to a side tunnel that took us behind the Falls. There were two viewing spots, each only wide enough for three or maybe four people. You had to wait in line until others had their fill and left. Then you could stand at the rail for a photo or to toss coins. Most people, like me, only needed thirty or forty seconds to snap a photo and move on, but the line in front of us really slowed when a couple decided to camp out there. I don’t know what I expected, but I was not impressed. There really wasn’t anything to see but a wall of white. The sound! Now that was impressive. Speaking of sound, some people really liked the echo quality of the tunnels and made weird and funny noises. At first, I didn’t know what was going on, but eventually I figured it out.
Leaving the side tunnel, we came face to face with a waiting-for-the-elevator line that stretched back nearly to the outside viewing platform, which was almost 151 feet away! Some people waiting in line peeled off to the side tunnel that goes back behind the falls, so the line moved fairly quickly.
“The only line longer will be the line to the restrooms!” Ron quipped when he talked about lines.
Once back up to the top, I did need to use the restroom. I don’t believe I’ve ever been in another restroom where the tissue came out in two squares, no tearing required. I was surprised. Since my camera was around my neck, I took a picture for you. Have you ever come across this dispensing method before?
I wanted to walk around to the top-of-the-falls viewing area, but because we had some long waits, it was already time to meet the bus. I pushed my luck as far as I dared before I turned around and went back to the bus. As it turned out, I wasn’t last to the bus. We had to wait for some others. I could’ve probably made it to the top of the falls if I hadn’t been afraid of missing my bus.
The bus took us to our next destination and I snapped a few pictures of houses along the way.
Our next stop was the whirlpool.
Mike had had enough walking and chose to stay on the bus and skip this attraction. He wasn’t alone. Another gal wasn’t feeling well and stayed on the bus, too.
“She’s diabetic,” her husband told all who would listen. “I beg her to carry snacks in her purse but does she listen to me?!”
“NO!” several of us said in unison.
Cork, Dee, and I walked down for a few photos. The viewing platform was high above the swirling waters.
The Niagara Whirlpool is a natural phenomenon located in the Niagara Gorge, downstream from Niagara Falls. It’s formed because of the volume of water rushing into a narrow gorge and the Niagara River making a sharp 90-degree turn. The whirlpool's greatest depth is about 125 feet.
There are people on the other side, down by the water. That tiny little white circle is a guy, soon joined by his friend.
There’s a cable car you can pay to ride over the whirlpool and back.
After snapping a few pictures, I went back to the bus to wait for the others.
Our next stop was for maple syrup tasting. They had us gather around a horseshoe-shaped bar and everyone was given a flight paddle with three different samples.
“Does anyone know why they are different colors?” the young man asked.
Me, thinking I know more than I do, said, “It depends on how long they cook it.”
Well, turns out I was wrong. Who knew!
“The color and flavor of maple syrup is influenced by when the sap is collected,” he ignored my wrong answer and explained. “The first one is golden in color and has a delicate flavor.” He tapped the sample. “It has a mild maple flavor and is produced early in the sugaring season. You can go ahead and try that one now.”
We sipped and he didn’t, but he waited for us to drain our little cups.
“The second one is amber color and has a richer maple flavor. It’s made from sap collected a little later in the season. Go ahead and try that one.”
Again, he waited.
“And our last sample is the darkest and has the most robust flavor of the three. It’s the one most Canadians prefer,” he said.
It was the best of the three and the one most of us preferred, judging by the lip-smacking reactions around me. Does that mean there’s a little Canadian in all of us?
There was a huge waterfall chandelier hanging above the horseshoe. You can see the crystals behind our young instructor. I looked up and snapped a picture.
After he turned us loose, we could browse all the maple syrup themed products or get a bite to eat at the café. This was a longer layover. I got coffee and water for us and Mike and I found an outside table where our bus driver was eating.
“Can we join you?” Mike asked.
“Sure!” Ron said.
Mike and Ron chatted the time away until it was time to get back on the bus.
Our next and final stop on this tour was the boat road out to the falls.
“Are there any seats on the boat?” I asked.
“I think there’s a few,” Ron answered.
Mike, once again, wasn’t up to the walking and standing and passed on the boat ride.
“I saw it when we brought your mom up here,” Mike said. He didn’t feel like he was going to miss anything.
It was a long walk down to the dock, full of switchbacks.
There were so many people! But the cruise company had it down to a science and moved us all through fairly quickly. The boats can hold 600 passengers.
A rock covered with birds. I think these are cormorants.
The building by the water is the old power plant.
They got close enough to the falls that everyone who didn’t take cover, got soaked.
Our walk from the boat to the street was more direct, a whole lot shorter and faster.
We were back from our tour by early afternoon. We went to our rooms to freshen up, then joined up again for a trip the concierge recommended.
“If you have time, you should take a drive to Niagara on the Lake. It’s got a beautiful historic district full of big, beautiful houses,” Frank said.
Here are some pictures from that drive.
We stopped at Fort George.
We arrived in time to watch a flintlock demonstration.
Afterward we walked around.
The swallows were nesting in the roof rafters. The babies look big enough to fledge. The parents weren’t bothered by us and continued to fly in with tidbits of food. I tried to get a picture of that but my stop-action doesn’t work well in low light.
They had instructors in period costumes stationed in the various buildings to tell us about the history and to answer questions.
“This is the officers’ kitchen,” he said. “They had their own cooks and bought all of their own supplies.”
“Did they ever take their meals with the other men?” I asked.
“No, they didn’t,” he answered and went on. “To be an officer you had to be able to read and write. Most of the officers came from affluent families, because they were the only ones who could afford to send their kids to school, and you had to be at least sixteen years of age.”
“How many sixteen-year-old officers were there?” I wanted to know.
“Quite a few actually.”
“Did the other men resent these young officers?” I followed up.
“Surprisingly, no. They didn’t.”
I asked a few other questions throughout his discourse until Mike nudged me. That’s when I noticed we’d been joined by other tourists and I was monopolizing.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized.
“No! Keep going. You ask interesting questions!” one lady said.
I smiled my thanks as we left for the next building.
We wandered through a bedroom decorated in the period, an office where there were lots of artifacts displayed, and met this guy in the next room.
“This is where the officers lived and took their meals,” he said.
“So, is this building original to the fort?” I asked.
“No. The only building still standing that was original to the fort is the powder magazine. All of the other buildings are reproductions but done as they would’ve been in the day.”
Others came in behind us so we moved on.
“These would’ve been the living quarters of an officer’s family,” she said.
“Did they have jobs?” I asked.
“Probably not the officers’ wives, other than taking care of their families, but there were women at the fort who did things like laundry, sewing, and nursing.”
“Did they have prostitutes?” I asked, devilishly.
The one gal didn’t know what to say but the other one was pretty quick. “Not here at the fort. Most of the men were Christian and what they did when they went to town... who knows. Some of the men actually brought their families to the fort. Over in the barracks you’ll see corners sectioned off with sheets. That’s where the families would’ve stayed.”
It was getting late so we drove on into town, tooled around, gawking at the quaint storefronts and big old houses. One of the problems, you will notice, is the landscaping is also old and mature and obscured the fronts of some of the houses. I took the pictures anyway.
I believe this is Lake Ontario.
The flower clock.
We stopped at an overlook. The scene it was overlooking? A power plant.
Getting back into Niagara Falls, we found a little BBQ place to have supper. All-in-all it was the best place we ate the whole trip. I got a kick out of the southern slang boards hanging all around the restaurant.
“Didn’t you eat in the revolving restaurant on top of the Skylon Tower?” you ask.
We tried there before we went to the BBQ place. The only time we could get a table would’ve been 10:30 that night. No thanks!
Other than hiking five blocks to the Italian place, the only other place we’d eaten was the Hilton’s own restaurant on the thirty-third floor, overlooking the falls. We had breakfast: a plate with two eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast, priced at twenty-seven dollars (Canadian). That’s about twenty dollars in American. With Mike’s breakfast, my coffee, and a tip, it came out to eighty dollars, which converts to about sixty American. An expensive breakfast.
“It’s a once in a lifetime experience,” Mike consoled when I nearly fainted. “We probably won’t ever come back here.”
Cork was sure it was going to put him in the poorhouse!
We were up and on the road early the next morning, before the fog had burned off. I took a series of pictures because I was smitten. I’m not usually up and out driving this time of day to watch the world awaken.
A couple of hours into our four-and-a-half-hour drive, we came into a small town and found a diner to stop for breakfast.
On the menu was something called Nick’s Breakfast Sandwich. Nick is the name of one our church peeps and I thought of him.
“I’m gonna get that,” I told Mike.
I wasn’t sorry. It was a good sandwich and the potatoes! I love potatoes but not usually on my breakfast plate. I think most places use last night’s leftover baked potato and that’s exactly what they taste like. Not these! They tasted like fresh-made potatoes and I ate almost all of them.
We were home by the early afternoon, but it was too early to pick up Raini and Bondi from the kennel. I’d have to wait a few more hours to see my girls.
By the way, I called every day to see how they were doing. It was the first time we’ve ever left them, and though I knew Kim was good and kind to the dogs, I was worried about them. Kim reported that Raini and Bondi never warmed up to her and spent most of their time in their beds, watching what was going on around them.
Raini wanted to come to me when she saw me. However, she’s so afraid of strangers that she wouldn’t come out until Kim backed away.
That’s our Niagara Falls adventure. I want to thank Cork and Dee for supplying some of the pictures I’ve used here.
Let’s call this one done!
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