Road Trip: The Biggest Small Bike Ride Ever

I never imagined I'd ride a bicycle from one country to another, but I did. Sounds really cool and outdoorsy, right? Nevermind that it was the shortest two minute ride across a nice bridge from the Canadian Niagara Falls to the U.S. Falls; it sounds better to say I rode from one country to another, so I am sticking with that.

I felt like I was in a movie as the wind whipped my hair and we rode across undisturbed by cars or even other people. It was just me, my bike, my friend, and a bridge in limbo between two countries.

The customs officer asked so few questions as we reached the other side, that I worried he wasn't doing his job properly. I resolved that if I ever needed to engage in some illegal border crossing, this would be the place.

We rode around and headed to Cave of the Winds (which I would soon discover would be more aptly named 'Cave of the Extreme Soak-Down') for a more intimate interaction with the impressive Falls. Choosing a weekday to visit Niagara was brilliant as the lines were short and the people sparse. We walked right in, received our yellow ponchos and some hideously nerdy sandals intended to prevent slipping. I wondered if wearing these sandals might actually be worse than the slipping itself. But since the man of my dreams was probably not lurking somewhere behind the falls, I donned the unflattering gear, and headed for excitement.

We climbed down and met the water plummeting down right before us. It was incredible; I was looking up right into the face of Niagara Falls and feeling the water sprinkle my face. And as if this weren't already a pretty perfect moment, a rainbow suddenly appeared. Had this been a musical, someone would have promptly burst into song. The water looked so fresh and clean that I cupped my hand under it and decided to have a taste; I like to live on the edge. It was pure, clean, and delicious just as I had imagined. We continued to follow the stair path, getting closer and closer to the top of Bridal Veil Falls. We got so close it felt as though we'd been caught in a torrential downpour with someone simultaneously dumping buckets of water over our heads. It was a blast! My jeans were soaked up to my knees, blouse wet, and hair damp. The yellow poncho pretty much served no purpose whatsoever. (Disclaimer: If you do not intend to stand directly underneath the plunging water like a child playing in a sprinkler, then you are likely to stay dry, and your poncho will come in handy).

Continuing our bike ride in wet jeans was far from ideal, but what's a girl to do? We rode along the park path and discovered a spot where you could walk down to the water's edge. Well, you could walk to the edge after climbing over a short wall that probably wasn't meant to be climbed over, but no one was looking and I knew we would be careful.

There was a certain level of craziness in what we were doing; we were just a few feet away from getting caught in the current and swept right over the edge. I am sure where we were standing was probably illegal and would most definitely have given my mother a small heart-attack, but I was living on the edge more literally than ever before. I dipped my toes in the icy water and practiced skipping rocks as I watched the water turn from peaceful to powerful before sliding into the pool below.

We rode back to Canada just as the sun was going down and my jeans had finally dried. It is funny how you can spend an entire day watching lots of water fall over an edge, but somehow it is pretty amazing.

Road Trip: Watching My Dinner Swim in Halifax

Each one looked so peaceful. They were all swimming around and climbing over one another in a playful sibling sort of way, vying for what little space was left in their waterfront home. They had no idea what was going on. They had no idea that they would soon be whisked away into a shopping basket and weighed for sale. These innocent lobsters had no idea that they were going to become my very lavish dinner. 

I don't like to see my food alive. I am no vegetarian, but I can certainly understand the sentiment when an animal, or crustacean in this case, appears to be pleading for its life and you just don't think you should be eating it. If it lands on my plate fully prepared and beautiful, it spares me the thoughts of what that animal sacrificed for my feeding pleasure. Selfish, I know. 

But having lobster is just what you do when in Nova Scotia, it would almost be sinful not to. In fact, lobster is so abundant here that I had a completely 'only in Nova Scotia' moment when I spotted the McDonald's billboards promoting their McLobster sandwich (yes, really). Besides, when your wonderful hosts take you to the lobster market and exhibit pure excitement at the opportunity to let you hand pick just which lobster you would like, it's probably not a good time to tell them you don't really like lobster. 

We chose our dinner in the morning and then took a rain sprinkled drive up to Peggy's Cove. If Nova Scotia conjures up any image in your mind, besides lobster that is, this place is it. Peggy's Cove is a fishing community just outside of Halifax whose legend is a point of speculation. Some believe Peggy was the wife of an early settler, while others suspect that Peggy was in fact a young woman who was the sole survivor of a shipwreck many, many years ago. Either way, I was sure this was where my dinner swam free before being relocated against their will. 

We wandered across the somewhat slippery rocks opting against the paved path because that was just too easy. The air was biting considering I was far from appropriately dressed, and the sprinkle of rain was still falling. I squinted through the small hole that was left after tying my hood almost completely over my face in an attempt to stay warm. We explored a bit, and then peeked into the gift shop which was filled with artist's renderings of the lighthouse over and over and over again: lighthouse in the day, lighthouse in the night, lighthouse with water behind it, lighthouse with rocks behind it, lighthouse with a dog running on the rocks. I guessed the lighthouse was either really important here, or there was just nothing else to paint. Anyhow, it was time to head back for dinner.

We reached home, washed up, and met the table set with plates full and beautiful. I had almost forgotten the day's earlier swimming dinner. I no longer thought of the creature on my plate as Larry the Lobster; it was just dinner, and it was time to eat. 

I suppose I had also forgotten that I didn't like lobster, because it was delicious! Sure, I needed help to dismantle it and free the meat, but I am just inept like that when it comes to eating anything with an exoskeleton. Once freed, the meat was heavenly laced with a combination of melted butter, and some other lemony-peppery concoction. Everything was scrumptious, and I ate until I almost couldn't breathe (which is apparently something I do quite often). It was a new experience, but isn't that what travel is all about? If I found myself in Halifax/Nova Scotia again, I would never risk missing out on another lobster dinner.

Sorry Larry.

8 Things to Love About Toronto

From the Exhibit "Late News" by
Dan Perjovschi at the R.O.M.

Toronto, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

1. Cultural Diversity. Toronto has it all. You can "travel" across continents without ever leaving the city! There are so many areas and neighborhoods where you can find people, culture, and delicious food from all over the world. There is something for everyone here. This portion of Dan Perjovschi's "Late News" Exhibit captures it best; there are so many elements that make up greater Toronto, and to me, that's the beauty of the city. Plus, I really love to eat. 

2. Ample Places to Meet People. You can meet people everywhere here, and for young singles this is of vital importance! There are people to be met on public transportation, while walking around the city, on the streets after clubs and pubs close when everyone is out at the same time, and even en route to emergencies (more on this later). Not being holed up in your car and actually being out in the world can make a big difference. In Los Angeles, people drive everywhere. No one thing is that close to another, making for very little outside-of-your-car time. Unless of course you are trying out the latest diet, then you might go sans vehicle to do some walking on your lunch break, or take your tiny dog out in the morning. But there aren't many people to meet doing either of those two things.

3. The TTC. Oh, the Toronto Transit Commission. They can get you around the city quite easily with the convenient combination of subway, bus, street car, and rail car. And they have gone to the trouble of having each mode in collaboration so that you only pay one fare to get to/from your destination whether you use one, or all four different modes. So thoughtful.

View from Panorama

4. Panorama Bar/Restaurant/Lounge. A supreme view from the 51st floor, a full bar, tasty edibles, and the occasional proposal (yes, I actually did see one–the romance in the air is thick all the way up here!) What more do you need?

5. Cute Firefighter Boy. As two fire trucks sped down Bloor Street, sirens blaring, I waited at the crosswalk for them to pass. A third fire truck slowed to a safe crawl, and the driver (also known as cute firefighter boy) glanced in my direction, looked back at the road, then turned back to smile and wave. En route to a potential emergency! I felt like a giddy teenage girl at a concert. Sure, I will never see him again, and sure most visitors to Toronto are not likely to encounter him either, but he represents the dating potential in this city, and reinforces Reason #2 that there are ample places to meet people!

6. Caribana. As the largest Caribbean festival in North America, people travel into Toronto from all over the world to be a part of this humongous party cultural celebration. Being of Caribbean heritage myself, it is nice to catch a glimpse of home even when you are far away from it. But let's be clear, even if you are not Caribbean, don't know anyone who is Caribbean, and/or have never even visited the Caribbean, you can't beat the fun to be had at this festival. You just have to be ready for it...

7. Proximity to NYC. New York City is near and dear to my heart, so being just an hour and a half's flight away from everything that I love is a beautiful thing. It is convenient to be so close to New York. Besides, who knows when you'll have to see a Broadway show or update your fall wardrobe?

8. Ronaldo Billboard. Okay, so maybe this isn't a legitimate reason to love Toronto, but we don't have this at home and it's kind of a pretty picture. Plus, it's 8 things I love about Toronto, so it makes the list.

There's a little bit of everything in Toronto, and any place that fosters eating, entertainment, and culture is just about perfect for me. Now, if only it were warm all year round...

"It's a Pity We Have to Work"

The Toronto skyline faded behind us as our tour boat, the Harbour Star, motored out from Queen's Quay. I had anticipated this ride to be a bit over-touristy, but it was kind of fantastic. A very animated young redhead narrated the tour. She spoke about the history and the current happenings in and around the harbour and the islands. On such a hot summer day, it was hard to imagine any part of this harbour being frozen over as she had mentioned. We learned of the rivalries between the local yacht clubs (oh, life gets so complicated sometimes...) and even got to witness children scrambling to keep their sailboats upright during lessons from the National Yacht Club's Junior Sailing School; so cute...and kind of funny. There were great views of everything from here, but get in line early to avoid elbowing fanny-packers for a chance to sit outside.

I sat inside the boat, chin resting on my folded arms (that were being slightly scalded by the sun, but oh well) and just gazed out the window as the breeze ruffled my hair. The boat was quiet. The animated redhead had stopped speaking and the original Dusty Springfield version of The Look of Love gently caressed my ears. We coasted past swans frolicking on the bank, a family splashing about in the water, and a mass of orange clad children flying kites. Obviously appreciating the serenity, a very wise woman (yes mom, that's you) turned to me and said, "There's so much life has to offer, it's a pity people have to work." Hmm. I pondered this profound statement. It was indeed a pity...but how did it come to be this way?

There was only one conclusion–society must have been designed incorrectly. I mean, who decided we should work for most of our lives, eventually retire at some old age, and only then take the time to live and play? Who decided that work should take up most of your day, most of your week, and most of your life? And who decided that doing something you love would be next to the most impossible way to make a living, so instead you are more likely to spend this work portion of your life doing something you could really care less about? And most importantly, who invented the heinous, torture device that we have come to know as a cubicle?! No. Life was not meant to be lived this way. There must have been some kind of mistake. Maybe there will be a recall on this faulty life design, and they will come out with a new and improved version. They are probably working out the details now. For now, I am content to forge my own path (because I can't wait around forever). Live and play will be at the forefront of my design, with work spliced in accordingly. Or, ideally, I will find the perfect fusion of live-play-work and be able to patent my design and sell it. We'll see what happens. In the mean time, refuse to accept the existing design; there is so much life has to offer.

Perhaps one day "they" will issue a public apology.

Maple Syrup and Hockey, eh?

I never thought Canada was my type.

Or at least I didn't think we would hit it off like we did. I mean, I always figured it would be nice, but nice in that kind of 'we could be friends way,' not the 'I want to spend every waking moment in your presence kind.'

It is a love affair, my relationship with travel–some countries will set my pulse racing with excitement, while others draw lukewarm feelings, no butterflies in my stomach.

But you can never really know a place until you visit it, go out at least once.

That seemingly quiet and simple country could turn out to be packed with all kinds of colorful delights and adventures once you get to know it; things you might never have otherwise discovered.

That was Toronto.

The warm summer days were filled with sights and culture, and the equally warm nights with an array of worldly cuisine and cozy bars.

A quick subway ride brought me into Mirvish Village one particular evening. Trees partially camouflaged the charming, old-fashioned buildings. There was something comfortably quiet about this place even though the restaurants were packed and the bars filled.

We ventured to the end of the street and took a seat on the patio of the Victory Café. The wooden, almost picnic-like tables gave the place a relaxed feel. It really was cozy. In my world, cozy usually depends on how nice the designer couches and chairs are in the place. But this was a different kind of cozy, the company also made it that way.

We ended up chatting with the groups of people on either side of us (sure it was after a couple of shared beers by each party, but so what?)

Marcus, a sweet-faced, glasses clad guy to my right was especially friendly. We fell into deep conversation about life, politics, and misconceptions as they exist both in Canada and the United States.

Being a traveler himself and having experienced other places, he tells me, "I really do love it here, Canadians are just nice people. We actually get made fun of by the States for being so nice."

I was ashamed to admit I had heard a joke (or two...) of that nature.

Marcus's chipper friend decided to pipe in when he heard I lived in California. In all seriousness and enthusiasm, he turned to me and said, "California? So do you hang out at Venice Beach and go rollerblading?"

I looked back at him with the same seriousness and enthusiasm and said, "Do you love maple syrup and play hockey?"

No?

I didn't think so. We both laughed when he realized the silliness of his comment and the mockery in mine.

Sure, there are Californians that go to Venice and rollerblade, and I am sure there are Canadians that love maple syrup and play hockey. But not everyone does.

Travel is the most supreme education. I shudder to imagine the things we would run around thinking of places and people if we were never to experience them and learn that there is so much more than what little we might know.

Marcus ended the evening by saying, "It was nice chatting, eh?" I smiled and said yes. He smiled back and said, "Yes, we really do say eh."

While some things might be true, there's way more to this place than maple syrup and hockey.