It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

I know the Boys II Men song was about the end of a relationship, but seeing as I feel like I've developed a relationship with the view here in my hotel room (I know, I keep gushing--get it?--about it, but I can't help myself), the song seems entirely appropriate. Side note: I've also had "Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls" in my head since Sunday. Who knew Niagara Falls would evoke 90's music? As if the regular views aren't enough (and they are!), I was also treated to a fireworks show last night.

I realize that the show wasn't put on as a farewell to me--I looked it up and found that they go off every Monday through Friday during the summer months--but let's just pretend it was. Like Canada said, "You're checking out tomorrow, Katherine? Then enjoy these fireworks before you go!" 

I spent the morning eating breakfast by the window, savoring the morning version of the Falls. Since I didn't have to check out until noon, I took my time, and boy, was it sweet.

For those of you wondering where all that water comes from, as I was when I first saw this, here is a helpful little explanation: https://www.marriottonthefalls.com/blog/2014/09/17/where-does-water-going-over-niagara-falls-come

After picking up my car from the casino and checking out, I headed to my next stop, Niagara-on-the-Lake. Apparently no one told Google maps that I'm on vacation and prefer a more scenic route to the more efficient one, and about 20 minutes in, as I was driving through back roads between vineyards (although that was nice too), I realized that I wasn't on the main road that's the most scenic way in. Since I couldn't check in to my B&B until 3:00 and I had plenty of time to kill, I turned around, drove almost all the way back, and started over. Why not? It's my vacation, and I'll drive where I want to! I am glad I made that choice, because the main road leading to the town is Niagara Parkway, and you drive alongside the river, which you get glimpses of through the trees. Also, a super tiny and random chapel on the side of the road, whose purpose, other than to cause tourists to stop and take pictures, I can't even begin to imagine.

On the other side of the highway are a lot of massive, stately homes where Rich Folk live, interspersed with more modest cottages and Normal People houses, one or two of which I thought I might possibly be able to afford and live in were my job and salary somehow magically transported to this location. Mind you, I've bought dozens of homes in dozens of locations in my imagination. It's always interesting to see the little postings in the real estate offices in town for a reality check. Those stately homes, as it turns out, run anywhere from 2.5 to 11 million dollars. Canadian dollars, which gets you a slight discount, but not enough. The smaller homes run from around $500,000-800,000. So maybe I couldn't live here. Sorry I do not have pictures of any of these houses I'm talking about, but I figured the cars behind me would have gotten pretty mad if I'd stopped to take photos.

But on to the town, Niagara-on-the-Lake, which is a pain to type out, but charming as all get-out. I stopped on a side street to eat lunch at the Irish Harp Pub, which was cozy and served up a very tasty traditional beef stew.

I then strolled up and down the main tourist mecca, Queen Street, which was filled with quaint buildings, horse-drawn carriages, and flower baskets galore.

Also this statue of George Bernard Shaw, right in front of a cafe named after him and some touristy shops. I imagine he would have had some choice things to say about this, all much wittier and scathing than I can manage. 

One couple stopped while I was taking this photo, and the wife said, "Oh, it's George Bernard Shaw. I guess he must have been born here." No, my dear woman, he was not. He was born in Ireland. They just have a statue of him because they have the Shaw Festival here and perform his plays. They're big fans in Niagara-on-the-Lake! Of course, I kept my explanation in my own head, exercising the same restraint I did in the elevator yesterday morning where a father was lecturing his children about the myth of Icarus and getting the story COMPLETELY WRONG. I seriously had to bite my tongue not to correct him, but no one likes a know-it-all and his children clearly weren't listening to him, so it was all right in the end.

My B&B is a few blocks away from Queen Street, and I enjoy seeing pretty homes and pretty yards like these on my walk to and fro:

I have a whole suite here, which includes a bedroom with chaise lounge (which I'm sitting on now--I'll post some pics tomorrow, perhaps), as well as a separate sitting room with a couch and TV. The bathroom connects the two. Of course I miss the view, but I'm also missing controlling my own thermostat. They have air-conditioning here, but the bedroom of this suite is rather warm with the afternoon sun beating in. I also miss the ice machine at the hotel. I mean, so silly, but tiny ice cubes whenever you want! I do like my water icy cold. But these are petty quibbles. I am thankful to be here in such a lovely home, spoiled brat that I am. It's certainly easier on the wallet as well.

And now to find some dinner...