I returned from vacation last week. Although I write stories that take place in different countries, on different planets, and in different realms, I actually had never traveled outside the USA until this year. I actually hadn’t even possessed a passport until last year. Acquiring the passport made traveling outside the USA a real possibility.
Since my elder son died in 2021, I have made a practice of taking a commemoration vacation in late October. My son was born in late October, and staying home leads to wallowing in grief. Therefore, I escape. I go somewhere to see things I’ve never seen, do things I don’t normally do, and distract my mind. On my boy’s birthday, I go to Mass and pray. The rest of the day is generally spent wallowing in grief, but this year I further engaged in distraction: a trip to the Canadian Railway Museum where the trains were decorated for Halloween.
This year’s vacation took me first to Montreal and next to Niagara Falls, both on the Canadian side of the border.
Our first stop was in Brockton to see the Aquatarium. “What’s an aquatarium?” I asked. We didn’t know and we weren’t on a tight schedule, so we took the exit and discovered the aquatarium was closed. However, we entered a shop selling furniture and gifts and enjoyed a lovely conversation with the sales clerk. I bought a small jar of sour cherry jam. Delicious!
I travel with my best friend, Cinrdra, a fellow equestrian. For the Montreal portion of our vacation, she rented an apartment on Rue Sherbrooke, about two miles from Old Town. The apartment itself was chic in design with two large bedrooms, two large bathrooms, a kitchen larger than my own, a roomy dining area with table and four chairs, and an adequate living area with sofa, loveseat, coffee table, and television. The kitchen was adequately stocked with what we needed: pots, pans, silverware, dishes, cups, basic appliances. However, some things weren’t up to what I consider modest standards. In Cindra’s bedroom, the bed had a broken leg, both pocket doors were broken, and one of the kitchen chairs was broken. Both bathrooms came equipped with two towels, but no washcloths or hand towels. Neither bathroom had soap for hands or bodies. Good thing we brought our own! There were other issues, but overall the space suited us well being in a mixed residential and commercial neighborhood.
Because we’ve learned that dining out for lunch is much less expensive than dining out for supper, we went grocery shopping for some basic foodstuffs to tide us through. I brought a Crock-Pot® and made beef and noodles one evening. (Super simple recipe—and it’s tasty!) The Crock-Pot got a mention from the customs officer when we left Canada: it’s not something one usually sees in people going on or going home from vacation. We explained it, and the officer commented that it was a good idea to have supper waiting for us after a day of adventuring.
There was a wonderful little cafe just two blocks away where we ate breakfast. Less than a block away, a Canada Trust branch kindly exchanged US dollars for Canadian money and educated us about “loonies” and “toonies,” the country’s dollar and two-dollar coins. We learned that Canada no longer uses pennies and their “paper” money is actually plastic. We met several friendly and helpful people. The proprietor of Burger de Ville and the bus drivers for Montreal’s public transit system deserve special mentions for their helpfulness. Without them, we’d probably still be wandering about, lost in a city of 4 million people!
We hit St. Joseph’s Oratory (magnificent), Pointe-a-Calliere Archeology and History Museum, Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours Chapel (lovely!), and the Canadian Rail Museum (fascinating!). We had fun trying to read, discern, and pronounce French words and getting used to Canadian currency. I think I’ve got merci down pat now.
After three days in Montreal, we drove to Niagara where I thought I’d rented a cottage and discovered that the cottage was an apartment. The Booking.com listing was really misleading, although the property owner was excellent about communicating with me, especially when my phone refused to show emails containing access code details to enter the building. The apartment was, in real estate terms, cozy: that means cramped. The tiny kitchen was well-stocked with everything we needed: dishes, utensils, pots, appliances, etc. The two bedrooms were tiny. The two bathrooms were generously sized compared to the rest of the apartment. The living room doubled as both dining area and third bedroom: very, very cramped. It was good that we didn’t need a third bedroom. Because the television didn’t get broadcast or cable TV channels, I used my laptop computer to stream movies for evening entertainment.
Cindra and I tend to be of the early-to-bed types. She rises much earlier than I do, though.
Regardless of the cramped accommodations, the apartment proved itself adequate to our needs. We met my son’s good friend on the American side and toured Goat Island (beautiful!) and took a painting class (fun!). The falls themselves were spectacular! A visit to Niagara Falls should be on your bucket list. Yes, being tourists, we did the tourist thing and signed up for a 3-hour cruise. All joking references to Gilligan’s Island aside, the cruise started by bus and ended with a boat ride to the base of the falls. Yes, we got wet, very wet. Kudos go to our tour guide, John, who was both informative and engaging.
On the ninth day of our vacation, we drove home.
It’s good to be home. I’ve not yet regained the burning desire to write stories again, but I needed that break from the monotony of work and the distraction from grief.