Niagara Falls, Canada
Today is Awesome Day! For today is the day I tick one of the great wonders of the world off my list of jawdropping, breathtaking and, quite literally, awe-inspiring experiences. Today I get to visit Niagara Falls!
It all came about when I told my mother I had to go to Toronto. She mentioned a day trip to Niagara she and my father had done, but I never thought we'd have the time. However, on finding out that it was so much cheaper to stay an extra night than fly back as soon as we'd finished the interviews, there was only one thought that crossed my mind - we'd have an opportunity to see the Falls. And with all their work now safely in the bag, Alex and Paul felt the same way too.
So, a bit of Googling later and I found a company that would pick us up from the hotel and send us on a day-long excursion to Wondersville for just $80 each; a snip we all agreed. But the early start has us somewhat groggily grabbing a bit of breakfast; the morning after the night before.
We're picked up, along with two very young chaps from a nearby hotel, and taken to the company's headquarters where we part with our cash. These fellow passengers are South Africans working for an insurance company, now based in London, who have been flown to Toronto for a meeting and are loving the privilege, God bless them.
They're also so deeply irritating and full of wide-eyed enthusiasm that our jaded, latent 40-something misanthropy gets an early morning exercise as they talk incessantly about how great London is (we know, thank you very much), mistaking Paul's undeniably Northern Irish accent for Scottish (before going into a wildly ill-informed dissection of the differences between American and Canadian accents), regaling us with tales of drinking with their financial chums (note to youth - two brandys does not a wild night make) and generally wittering on far too brightly for eight in the morning.
When they find out why we're actually in Canada ("Man, did you he-ahr thit?! Iron bliddy Maydin, maaan!!"), all three of us sink into our seats and become even more mute, resolving to sit as far away from them on the bus as we can. Eventually they get the hint and once onboard start talking to other unsuspecting souls instead. I feel guilty for, ooh, seconds...
And so our charabanc of daytrippers hits the road and heads south around Lake Ontario, a two hour drive going past the city of Hamilton and then over a bridge that traverses the Welland Canal, which links Lake Ontario and Lake Eerie. Combined with the other three Great Lakes of North America stretched along the US/Canadian border, they contain a fifth of the world's fresh water.
Our first stop is at Niagara airport where eight of our party sign up for a helicopter ride over the Falls. Paul and I are both tempted but manage to talk ourselves out of spending $125 each on a 10 minute thrillathon, reasoning that a boat trip into the falls themselves will be quite enough excitement for one day. Pipe and slippers for the old farts, please!!
So our driver leaves the airborne contingent at the little airfield and drives the rest of us into the town of Niagara, jampacked with casinos and duty free shops to tempt day trippers from the USA who reside just across the Niagara river. They can hop in their cars and drive over the Rainbow Bridge, which spans the gorge and has the Canadian and American flags flying in the middle to denote which side is which, and spend the day gambling and buying cheap booze. Well, if they can face dealing with border immigration on a regular basis!
We, however, have no such concerns and are led straight down to the ticket barriers for our Maid Of The Mist boat-trip into the heart of the Falls. Stopping for the obligatory picture opportunities as we all snake in single file down to the boat, the Saturday lunchtime summer crowd of tourists seems overwhelming, coachload upon coachload of us scrabbling forward from all corners of the planet to board the boats that depart every 15minutes from both sides of the border
Clad in blue waterproofs that in the roasting sun stick to our lotioned-up skin, we're like some mental Doomsday cult, all cramming like refugees onto the next available vessel to take us into the roaring, churning, roiling cascade. But, oh my God, it's indescribably brilliant! Drenched in the spray we pass the American Falls, over which 10% of the water gushes, and head further down the river to the Horseshoe Falls, which are beyond anything I've ever seen.
The boat edges ever closer as water rains upon us, a torrent of spray that matches the deafening roar of millions of litres a second pounding over the cliff edge and blasting down around us. Surely it can't be safe, legal or sane to be this close to the tumbling torrent but it's thrilling and exhilarating beyond words.
Thorougly soaked and with enormous grins plastered to our faces we return to dry land and decide it's time for lunch, but just like yesterday, the only options to be found are fast food joints so it's cheeseburgers and fries, times three, eaten overlooking these monumental natural treasures, listening to a busker hammering out tunes such as 'Freefalling', 'Wish You Were Here' and 'Time Of Your Life'.
We finish our meal with a trip to the ice cream stand, where Paul announces that he's having strawberry as "it's one of my five a day". Fair enough, although from the colour of it that's five artificial additives a day, rather than any semblance of fruit we'd know.
We've got an hour before the bus departs so take a walk along the promenade back towards the Horseshoe Falls, which gives us welcome relief from the heat as, looking over the edge to all the water rushing past us, we get a cooling shower from the spray to mitigate against the heat.
The idea that these monsters have, in the depths of the coldest winters, frozen solid seems utterly impossible as we stand here under the ferocious sun. But it must be a thing of fierce beauty when it happens. I've seen enormous frozen waterfalls in Iceland before and they've been frightening and splendid things to behold.
Once back on the coach we drive to the elegant town of Niagara-on-the-Lake, stopping at the 'Whirlpool' rapids and rather lame Floral Clock on the way. The whole area is steeped in history having been fought over during the 1812 war with the United States, and we see the Fort George Barracks where the British Army were based at that time, their forces bolstered by the Native Americans to keep the US out of Canada. An enormous Union Jack still flies above it.
As we come towards Niagara-on-the-Lake, a succession of grand, colonial style homes line the road and the town itself is very lovely in a New England style; genteel and well-heeled with pretty buildings and manicured lawns. It's essentially one big tourist trap full of gift shops so we do the only sensible thing - find the nearest bar and have a beer.
Our final stop on the way back to Toronto is at the Pilliteri Vineyard. This area is famous for its ice wine, which is produced by harvesting the grapes in January when the temperature has fallen to minus 17. This means the sugar in the grapes intensifies and creates a very sweet dessert wine. There are over 100 vineyards in the region and the Pilliteri vineyard alone accounts for 20% of the world's ice wines.
In fact, not only is Niagara the only place in the world which produces red ice wines, Pilliteri is unique in creating an ice wine from the Shiraz grape. I give it a taste but it's far, far too sweet for my taste and I won't be buying a bottle of this alcoholic cough syrup at the exorbitant price on offer.
We eventually return to Toronto and are dropped off at our hotel close to 7pm, meaning we have just 20 minutes to jump in the shower and dress for dinner as we're meeting Katie for an adventure, soaking up the 'real' Toronto on a Saturday night out with a native of the city. This is going to be big...
