Cruise Journal: More Of Halifax, Nova Scotia

So, okay, the climb to the citadel was a little taxing on my knee but we made it. I thought we would find just a little foundation of some sort of fort but it was way more than that. I should have read the description on my GPS My City app.

The hill we climbed is appropriately called Citadel Hill. The site was fortified in 1749 when Halifax was founded by the British. The Citadel was there to defend Halifax Harbor and the Royal Navy Dockyard (probably from those pesky rebels to the south).

Over the years there have been four citadels there. The one completed in 1776 is said to be the main reason that Nova Scotia remained loyal to the Crown during and after the American Revolution.

The last citadel (1828-1856) was designed to repel both an attack by land or from the water by United States forces.

By the end of the 19th century the citadel was used mostly as a command center for other harbor defensive works and provided barrack accommodations.

In 1956, restoration was made and it was opened as a living museum and historic site. There are men and women dressed in period uniforms and dresses who greet you and answer questions. Throughout the year but mostly during the season of visitors there are reenactments portraying life there in the late 19th century.

It was almost noon and the main entrance closed just as we were to exit. It was time for the noonday cannon fire. We couldn't see really well from where we were but there was a bench in front of the barracks and a lady in costume encouraging us to climb the steps to the porch above for a better view. I thanked her and sat down.

As promised the loud bang went off on time and the entrance was soon reopened. They don't actually shoot anything out of the cannon. It's all smoke and gunpowder exploding but they close the entrance because the cannon is right above it and they want to guard against any unfortunate accidents. 

We left the Citadel down the sidewalk we'd come up and I clicked on the next icon on our tour. It was the Public Gardens. We found it a few minutes later and thankfully after traversing some level ground. I needed to sit for a bit and we found a nice bench near a picturesque spot near the entrance. 

There was a rumbling noise and the source was two tummies that were hungry. As we sat, we looked at a Google map to see what eateries might be nearby. Outside the main entrance we stood, phone in hand trying to decide which way to go. A sweet lady stopped and asked if we needed help. I smiled and said we were just looking for a place to eat and she named a few down the street. Bob said we were just looking for something light and pointed to the one on the corner across from us.

"Smitty's?" She nodded slowly. "I'm sure it's as good as any and would probably meet your needs." 

Not a whole hearted endorsement but it was close. We thanked her and went to Smitty's. Turned out it was my kind of restaurant--all day breakfast, much like a Denny's. We enjoyed a nice lunch and after a rest were ready to tackle the remaining part of our tour. 

The next stop was the Halifax Central Library. Completed in 2014, it is an ultra modern building to say the least. We didn't go in but there's supposed to be a nice collection of miniature paintings on display.

We were soon on to St. Mary's Basilica. I love the peace and serenity you find in the huge old churches. The stained glass windows are always amazing. In Europe we discovered that often the history of an area is told in the windows as well as Biblical stories. 

The waterfront board walk was a straight shot downhill from where we were and was the last of the stops on our tour. We skipped over the two between the church and the boardwalk for lack of interest and the need to go put our feet up for a while before dinner.

The board walk was buzzing. it was a beautiful sunny Saturday and couples and families and all sorts of groups of people were out including a whole shipful of passengers I'd wager. It was an amazing place full of amusements, food trucks, restaurants and a few shops thrown in. An old ship was offering tours of their decks. We strolled along enjoying the festival atmosphere and then I found it. Smoke's Poutinerie. Take a look at the picture. It says it all. I had to pass though. I didn't want to spoil my appetite for dinner.

Halifax. While not the nature trove I wanted to see in Nova Scotia it was a very enjoyable port stop. 

Next up--a day at sea and then some time in Boston before our flight home. What would we do with our six hours in the city before our flight home?

Cruise Journal: Halifax, Nova Scotia

Nova Scotia has been on the bucket list for a while and I was glad we were going to get to at least one port there. For some reason I had it in my head that we were going to see lots of beautiful natural landscapes. And maybe if we'd gotten away from the city we would have. It was one of the rare cases where I let my expectations overrule reality. 

On the way into the harbor we passed one natural landscape, George's Island, which is a national historic site. There is a fort on the island planted there to protect the harbor from invaders like those feisty Americans in the Revolutionary War. With the sun shining on the pretty white lighthouse it made a for a great photo op.

My knee and leg were feeling a little better so I pulled on my elastic brace, took an ibuprofen and fired up my GPS City app. Like Quebec, Halifax proved to be hilly but not quite as bad. It did not have the quaint streets that Quebec had but there were some interesting older buildings tucked in among the modern brick and glass buildings. 

We followed the City Introduction Walk and first up was the city hall. I was glad we got there early since there was a small group of sound engineers setting up in the park in front of the building for some sort of concert. The city hall was built in 1890. It's one of the oldest public buildings in Nova Scotia. The middle of the building sports a seven story clock tower. 

Across from the city hall was a beautiful old structure, St. Paul's Anglican Church. It was built in 1750 and is the oldest Anglican church in North America. 

The park area between the city hall and the church is called The Grand Parade and dates back to 1749. There are several monuments and memorials to peace officers and those serving in WWII.

We began our trek up a grade to find the Town Clock. I stopped for a photo opportunity and to catch my breath. I happened to notice an unusual weather vane and couldn't resist a picture. Yeah, that's my excuse for stopping and I'm sticking to it.

Finally we arrived at a grassy hill and saw the structure we were looking for. There was a fort behind it at the top of the grassy knoll but all we saw was a big set of steps to get up there. No way. We took a few pictures and then noticed it was almost eleven o'clock. We stood across from the tower to wait for the clock to strike the hour. It was not as impressive as I had hoped but it did count correctly.

I clicked on the next stop on our tour to get the directions and we started on our way again. In order to get to the public gardens, our next stop of interest, we were to go around the corner of the grassy hill where the fort was. 

Lo and behold! Around the corner was a gentle climb on a sidewalk to get to the citadel. I shrugged. "Let's do it." We started up, slowly. What we found was well worth the climb.

Cruise Journal: Sea Days Cherishing Quebec Memories

During our two days at sea between Quebec and Halifax we revisited the Tuscan Grille and had the most tender filet mignon I've had in quite a while. Evening entertainment continued to be excellent with singers and dancers and musicians. And we even got two lectures!!

The activity host Roxtar gave two excellent talks on the life and career of Marilyn Monroe. It was outstanding. We learned a lot more about her life and especially about the circumstances surrounding her death. It was recorded as a "probable suicide" but it sounds more likely that two different doctors were prescribing the same type of medication and she ended up with an overdose. He had much of his research backed up.

In going over my Quebec pictures there were still some that I couldn't post previously because I ran out of room. So here are a few more that I enjoy. I hope you will too.

Cruise Journal: An Evening In Quebec CIty

When Bob had checked the Uber prices in the afternoon he'd found them to be quite expensive. Now that I was sitting on the bed with an ice pack on my knee, he was looking into it again. There was no way we were going to make it to Ciel! on foot. He was surprised to find that prices had fallen. I wondered if it was because there were more Ubers available in the evening and a little competition took the price down a bit. 

I had packed my old elastic knee brace that I used when my knee was so painful before knee replacement. My other knee had been giving me fits before we left and I didn't want to chance not doing our walking tours if it decided to bother me. Thankful for the foresight, I donned the knee brace and pulled my dress slacks over it and hoped the bulge wouldn't show too much. 

We probably would have taken an Uber despite my knee as the weather looked iffy. I hoped it wouldn't rain during dinner. The restaurant, Ciel!, was on top of the Hotel le Concorde with a spectacular view and. . .it rotated! 

The menu was unique. I wish I had taken a picture of it. Ours was in English but still had strange items on it. Of course I zeroed in on the wild mushroom appetizer. I love mushrooms. It came on a thin layer of mashed potatoes and was absolutely delicious. When it came to the main entree we both agreed on the pork with vegetables. We weren't real sure what we were getting but when the waitress explained it, it sounded good.

Meanwhile we were moving in a circle and watching the view slowly change as well as the sky. It was not only clouding over more but the sun was setting so pictures were not coming out very well.

What did come out well was our dinner. The pork was flavorful and the vegetables the tenderloin sat on were so good that Bob even ate the brussel sprouts which, if you know him, he would not normally touch.

Wanting to stay a while longer (we hadn't made a complete rotation) we ordered decaf coffees and an éclair. The éclair was a little disappointing. it was chocolate, a little dry and with a chocolate mousse filling. Not the pastry we had imagined. 

We left the restaurant and waited for our Uber in the main lobby. The Ubers couldn't come into the terminal area so we had a little walk to get to the ship and the gangway hairpinned back and forth to the deck where we were to enter. All in all a real test for a tender knee and leg muscles that were beginning to tell me I'd strained them. Would I be able to walk in the morning and finish our walking tour?

I remembered the RICE advice for an injury--Rest, Ice, Compress, Elevate. I had the compression. I needed to rest and elevate and Bob grabbed a glass of ice again from the bar so I could ice. Fingers crossed, I skipped the evening show and sat on the bed with my ice bag watching some nature show on the TV. A little prayer may have escaped my lips as well.

Cruise Journal: Quebec City

Do you know that sinking feeling either half way to your destination or at least at the point of no return when you realize you've forgotten to pack something? The first day of our cruise as we finished unpacking it hit me. I'd left the folder with our walking tour of Quebec and Halifax at home. All that work! 

The calmer spouse said I should try to download it again from the computer and see if we could print it out at the computer ccnter. When I looked it up again, I remembered there was an app I could put on my phone, GPS My City. It would mean using roaming data which we usually turn off on a trip but Bob was good with that so I downloaded the app and found the tour that I wanted for Quebec. Relief!

We were not scheduled to dock until noon and were surprised with an invitation as a Captain's Club member with elite tier status to watch our entry into Quebec's harbor from the helipad at the front of the ship. Camera in hand, we made it to the front and joined a crowd of others shifting in and out of spots for a good view and camera shots. 

The sun was shining! It was a great start to the day.

As we got closer, I could see the hotel Le Chateau Fontenac majestically marking the city and the historical section that we would spend the most time in. As we neared the dock, we hurried to the lunch buffet to catch a bite before the ship would be cleared through immigration. Was I excited? You bet!

Once we were off the gangway and through the terminal, I pulled out my phone and clicked on the app's map for the first stop on our walk. It mapped our way from where we stood in front of the Museum of Civilization (actually the first stop on the map right at the end of the dock) to a Quebec City mural. the voice on the app quietly guided us as well, much like the Google map does.

At the mural, I read to Bob the history of it that the app provided. Begun in 1999, it depicts 16 prominent Quebecois, historical figures as well as cultural icons. On to the next site. I tapped the numbered spot. Presto! The route was right there. I was loving this.

Along the way, we passed several beautiful Autumn displays and one wonderful character that was set up to play his accordion. He asked if we might take a picture of him with his phone, I'm guessing it was for his portfolio or marketing or, who knows, Facebook and Bob obliged. I figured it gave me license to take a picture as well.

The restaurant, Le Sapin Laute, was on our route as well, I recognized it immediately from the pictures I'd seen online. It truly was quaint and I was sorry we would not get to enjoy their brunch since they were now closed until four and we already had other reservations for dinner. It didn't stop us from peeking in the windows and hoping to return someday to try it out.

Before long we were in front of the entrance to the funicular that would take us to the top of the hill and the hotel. It was a welcome sight. Quebec is just as hilly as promised and there was no way I wanted to climb up hundreds of steps or lots of hilly streets. The ride cost $4 whether you paid Canadian or USD and was cash only. It was a fun ride up that ended on the huge terrace that is in front of the hotel.

Unfortunately the skies were getting a little cloudy and looking like maybe some rain. 

We walked about on the terrace a bit and then decided to go inside the hotel and check out the lobby. For some reason I thought our restaurant for the evening was in the hotel. After walking around the lobby for a time, we couldn't find it anywhere. When we asked a polite lady at the concierge desk she told us it was in a different hotel. Embarrassed, we thanked her and left. 

I looked up the restaurant again on Google and we mapped a route to see if we could walk it from the ship. On our way we decided we needed an afternoon coffee and stopped into a little restaurant that had a lot of character. Lots of stone and wood and a big fireplace that I'm sure would be welcome in the colder months. There were snow shoes tacked to the ceiling for decoration. We ordered coffee and a piece of maple sugar pie to share. It sounded good and it was even better than it sounded. Not as sweet as I would have guessed but, wow! I wished we'd ordered one each, but I shared.

We walked quite a way to find the hotel that had our restaurant for dinner. It was in the more modern part of the city. By the time we got there, we were seeking shelter from a rain shower. When it stopped, we started back toward the ship. I clicked on the Museum that was by the dock and my app directed us from where we were. It was mostly downhill to the ship but now it was wet and puddling as it sort of drizzled most of the way. 

Now, I know not to step on manhole covers when they are wet, but we were headed downhill in one spot and my attention was diverted just enough for me to plant a foot on a slippery manhole cover, slide and pitch head first to the ground. I sat feeling dumbfounded and just dumb. Stupid. I twisted my leg and landed on the knee that hadn't been replaced yet. Did I break anything? I just sat and prayed I hadn't. Around us were quaint shops and restaurants and a lady poked her head out of one and asked if I'd like to come in and sit in a chair for a bit. I was afraid to move.

Eventually I got back on my feet and felt like I could walk okay and we continued on, slowly and carefully until we made it back to the ship but now we had very little time to get showered and dressed and back to the restaurant for dinner and I knew I needed to ice my knee. Thankfully I had some ziploc bags and Bob got ice. How was I going to make it to dinner? There was no way I wanted to cancel. 

Poutine?

One of the items still left on my bucket list is Quebec, Canada. I don't know if I want to do a cruise or a road trip. I guess when the time comes, we'll know. But exploring the options is half the fun and I've been surfing the web for some information. One of the sites said that a trip to Quebec isn't complete if you don't indulge in poutine. Poutine?

I looked it up. Poutine is a dish of fries, cheese curds and gravy. Um. Really? I once had a friend who loved white vinegar on her French fries. She claimed that was the way they ate fries in Canada. Maybe she hadn't been to Quebec. My grandson loves malt vinegar on fries--lots of malt vinegar. He never claimed to have originated that idea from Canada though.

Well, I don't mind trying things--once. I don't see myself eating them more than that but perhaps my mind and taste buds will be changed. Who knows? I found several recipes but haven't decided if I want to try making it yet. Apparently you need to buy cheese curds that squeak when you bite into them and your fries need to be crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. The gravy must be beefy but not overpowering.

On second thought, I'll just wait until we get to Quebec and try them from someone who knows what they're doing.

Off To Iceland--Long Day, Short Night

We try to save money when we can as we travel and when we found the cost of a plane ticket from CLE that connected in Toronto would be more than $600 cheaper if we drove to Toronto and just took a direct flight from there it was an easy decision to make. A drive to Toronto takes about five hours so we were saving about $120 an hour minus the cost of gas and then the $165 for parking for our two weeks in a Toronto Park N Fly. But what made it a really long day was our eagerness to get our trip started.

Our flight was at 9 PM and rather than leave at noon or one we were sitting around twiddling thumbs wanting to get started. We finally gave in and left a little before 11AM. That got us into Canada way before necessary so after crossing the Peace Bridge in Buffalo, we exited a little ways up the Queen's Express Way to Niagara on the Lake. A December visit had been our last experience but I remembered it being quaint with a lot of shops and restaurants. It was still quaint but the snow and ice was replaced by sunshine, warm temps and tons of gorgeous flowers.

It was a busy place and every other shop it seemed was selling their brand of ice cream or gelato. Groups of people clustered together licking dripping cones. For a lactose intolerant gal who loves ice cream it was a real struggle not to give in. I just couldn't afford to sit on an airplane with a stomachache. Instead I opted for a berry sangria tea at Starbucks, better known by my grandchildren as the green mermaid.

After a walk and a check in with Facebook at a free WiFi, we started back toward Toronto and of course by then it was rush hour. What an oxymoron. Nobody rushes during rush hour. On top of the heavy traffic we passed one accident that had everyone rubber necking. There was no way we were going to get there too early. I could see my Wahlburger getting farther and farther from my hungry little grasp.

Canadian Maple Leaf

Finally the traffic eased and speed picked up and we made it to the airport only to find a horrendously long line for security. It kept moving but there were just so many people that it took a good fifteen to twenty minutes to make it through--even with my shoes on.

Once on the other side, we searched for the Wahlburger restaurant that had delivered such good hamburgers the week before on our way back from Japan. When we finally looked it up online we found that it was in terminal one and we were in terminal three. While I desperately wanted another good burger, there was no way we were going to go through security a second time and still make our flight. We settled for a burger on a weird bagel bun that wasn't nearly as good but at least fed our hunger.

Iceland Air is one of those airlines that charges for everything. WiFi on board--if you pay for it. Snacks--if you pay for them. Ear buds to watch movies--$$. I.m not sure if they charged for soft drinks because by the time they came around, I was enjoying some sleep compliments of the two Tylenol PM I took. Just when I was into a nice deep sleep despite my upright position, a baby let out a screaming wail that about sent me out of my seat. Tylenol PM couldn't even repair the damage. I was awake.

The flight was relatively short, five hours fifteen minutes, but I was lucky to spend a couple of hours drifting in and out. So, arrival at 6 AM Reykjavik time (2 AM at home) and we were about to hit the ground running: Car rental, sim card to install, GPS to get up and running. We muddled through. The bright spot was seeing Roger Moore, AKA James Bond, or rather his double at the car rental place filling out our rental agreement. He took the time to hit some of the highlights of the country as well and we were off. It was only 8 AM and we had a whole day ahead of us to use exploring before we could check into our guesthouse for the night. I kept hoping for a spot to nap.

The Canadian Stratford On The Avon River

Many years ago on one of our first visits to England we made a journey from London up to Stratford on Avon to the Anne Hathaway house and the said traditional stomping grounds of Shakespeare. It was beautiful and memorable. We toured the house, looked at some arts and crafts, soaked in the legendary stories and did some rubbings from some raised bronze tablets. I still have them hanging in our family room.

Much to my amazement there is a second Stratford and it's not far away from us. You don't have to cross an ocean to get there. It's also on a river called Avon and it has a tradition of theater albeit not as historical as the town in England. The Canadian Stratford which is in Ontario began its foray into the Shakespearean theater in the mid 1950s.

A journalist, Tom Patterson, and a British director, Tyrone Guthrie, began organizing the Stratford Festival. Construction on a stage and theater was finished in 1953 and the first play opened with legendary actor Alec Guinness. Since then the festival has grown adding a fourth venue in 2002.

Their site lists all sorts of productions from Shakespeare to more modern drama and musicals. There's a $25 bus ride to get to Stratford from Toronto if you are interested in expanding your theatrical experience from the variety offered at the Toronto theaters. You may not find the same quaintness that the original Statford on Avon affords but certainly you won't lack for entertainment.

Thousand Islands and The Salad Dressing

Long before I knew thousand island was a type of salad dressing I knew it as a place, a destination, although I'd never been there. If you'd listened to my mother though, you'd have thought we came close--often.

My mother learned to drive late in life. I was probably about eight or nine which would have made by brother about three or four when she got her license. Riding along with Mom was always an adventure. Why? Because she got lost so often--or at least she would tell us we were lost. We always did manage to make it back home but not before we heard the familiar line, "If we go any farther we're going to hit Thousand Islands!"

Now it wasn't until much later in my life that I learned that Thousand Islands actually is a place and there are actually more than a thousand islands there. It is located on the St. Lawrence River along the New York and Canadian border. It sounds intriguing to the writer in me as it is said there's a story that goes along with every island.

One such story is of the wealthy owner of the Waldorf Astoria who began building a castle for his wife on Heart Island. Unfortunately she died or as some suspect, ran off with the chauffeur and he abandoned the project but it remains a popular tourist attraction.

In order to qualify as an island the piece of land in the river has to remain above water all year and have at least two trees. One such island called Just Room Enough, takes its name from the fact that there is just room enough for the little house that sits on it. According to what I read, the people who own it were looking for somewhere to get away from the hustle and bustle of life and wanted a place where there would be no traffic and they would be away from people. Unfortunately, it became a popular tourist attraction with lots of gawkers.

But what about the salad dressing, you ask? There are several stories but the one that makes most sense is that the wife of a local fishing guide would make the dressing for lunch for her husband's clients. A famous New York actress liked it and named it after the area. She shared the recipe with George Boldt (the castle building guy) and he served it in his hotel restaurant. The locals who make the dressing now say that the mass market production is nothing like the original. They bottle their own each summer season and when they sell out, it's gone until the next year.

Bottom line, if we ever get lost driving through New York, I want to end up at Thousand Islands. It sounds like a great place for a travel adventure.

Flashback Friday - Canadian Tales

[This is a post from a few years ago about our vacations in Northern Canada. I came across a picture of my mother and me sitting on the steps to our cabin in the woods. Scary hairdos. For more about these vacations use the search box at the right and plug in Canada or French River.]

Do you have a favorite childhood vacation memory? I do--many, as a matter of fact. But the memories surround the place that we always spent our two week vacation before my father built a vacation home at Put In Bay. We went to Canada.

My father and grandfather were avid fishermen. So was my mother but since my brother and I were too young to be left on our own she didn't get to fish as often as she wanted. The place we went to was on the French River near Noelville, Ontario. I always thought it was somewhere near the northern Canadian border but it is actually situated east of Lake Huron about even with the top of the "mitten" of Michigan. To my child's mind, 12-14 hours of driving seemed enough to get me to the North Pole at least!

The cabins we stayed in were rustic to say the least. Fifty-five to sixty years ago, they had no electricity there yet since it was not a populated area. Our refrigerator was an icebox--literally. Every couple of days, the iceman would come and check to see if we needed a new block of ice. He would set about a foot square block into the metal compartment of the insulated cabinet that served as our "refrigerator."

Our lights at night were oil lamps that lent a warm glow and made everything cozy and at times mysterious.

The stove was wood-burning and I have fond memories of my grandfather getting up before dawn and banging around as he got a fire going in it to cook his famous pancakes. He would also make a morning trip to the community well and pump full a pail of water for us. In those days, that kind of well water was considered premium. I wouldn't be surprised if it was showing up in plastic bottles today.

Of course with all this rugged outdoor living, came the not-so-pleasant outhouse. During the day it was not so bad as we could see to get there and there were no critters of the night to be wary of. At night however, the outhouse was off limits to my younger brother and me. Mom preferred our safety and always came prepared with a bucket for our emergency needs. She would have loved our modern day portable chemical toilets.

My brother and I were always asleep early and missed out on some of the creepy adventures that took place after dark. Mom loved to tell stories and her favorite was one that made the cabin shake. . .

Port of Call - St. John's, Newfoundland

Arriving at a port on a Sunday is always an iffy proposition when it comes to what you might see. St. John’s, Newfoundland, in Canada was very quiet. While there were quite a few shops and restaurants open, the residents in this small city were not out in droves and the streets were pretty much taken over by the passengers of our cruise ship the Crystal Serenity.

While waiting for clearance from immigration so we could go ashore, we scoped out the town as much as possible from the top deck of our ship. Up on a hill we could see a large basilica. We set our goal to climb up to that spot, check it out and then see what the shops might have to offer on the main street in town.  After all, we figured, if nothing else was open, at least the church would be. Not so.

We made it all the way up the hill stopping to take a few pictures of nothing in particular along the way. If you stop for pictures as you climb, people are less apt to notice how out of shape you are. You can claim the breathlessness is from taking in a beautiful view. When we reached the Basilica of St. John the Baptist, a cathedral founded in 1841, we found several other hardy (and breathless) souls who informed us that it was closed. The good news was that the walk back to the ship would be all downhill.

St. John’s, the city not the cathedral, is a fishing town. There were dozens of fishing boats in the harbor. It’s wealth at one time was built on salted fish. The weather there so far north is often cold and harsh. To compensate for so many gray days, the homes and buildings are brightly colored. The city is said to be one of the oldest in North America dating back to the time of the Vikings. It is also said to be the most easterly city of North America.

 

There is much history to be garnered here but unfortunately a lot of historical places were lost to a large fire in the late 1800s. Still, there is Signal Hill, the site of Marconi’s first transatlantic signal, a 17th/18th century French fortress called Castle Hill and Cape Spear Lighthouse in nearby Avalon, and several other points of interest that will have us coming back to visit when we can spend more time.

 

 

Our gray day turned sunny just in time for the sail away. We were amazed when our ship was able to turn in the very small harbor and head out through one of the narrowest channels we have ever encountered. This was almost as narrow as the one in Bermuda when we docked in the old town. Once out of the channel, we could see what we had missed in the fog of the morning—a breathtaking view of the coast and even a couple of lost icebergs that had gotten hung up along the shore and were quietly melting away in the warming seasonal weather.

 

 The captain set course for Iceland and the ship picked up speed. Would the North Atlantic be kind to us?

 

Newfoundland and Labrador on Dwellable

Saint John's on Dwellable

This is for all you spitters. . .

It is time to get in shape for the annual spitting contests coming up this summer. Whether it be pumpkin seeds, watermelon seeds, cherry pits, or crickets. Crickets?! You heard me. In Wisconsin, there is actually a cricket spitting contest. The crickets are dead--frozen in fact, and is an annual event at the Jefferson County Fair.

The contest was won in 2010 by Mike Morateck who offered this advice to future contestants: “Pick a big cricket – the heavier the cricket, the further it goes. Put the cricket in your mouth, feet first on its back with the head pointing out because you don’t want the legs dragging on the way out. Then take a big breath through the nose – otherwise you eat the cricket – and let it fly.” By the way, his distance shot was 21 feet 2 inches.

If crickets aren't your cup of spit then you might want to try something a little more conventional like seeds. The International Cherry Pit-Spit will be held July 7, 2012, in Eau Clair, MI.

Perhaps a bit more aerodynamic are watermelon seeds. In Luling, TX, the annual Watermelon Thump takes place each June and people come from all over for a chance to make it into the Guinness Book of World Records and take home a prize of $1000.

In the Fall, pumpkin seed spitting becomes popular. Maybe it's because of all the pumpkin shell spitting that goes on in the MLB dugouts during the summer. The ball players eat the seed and spit the shells but in the contest that takes place each September in Port Elgin, Ontario, Canada, at their Pumpkinfest, the whole seed gets propelled. Last year's winner was Captain Jack Sparrow.

Don't despair if you feel you don't quite have a competition level spit. There's plenty of time to practice and there are even how to win a seed spitting contest tips at eHow. Let me know how you do!

Whatever floats your . . .Lodge?

My recent posts about our Canadian vacations as a child careened back into my head as I leafed through Continental's Hemisphere magazine during our flight to Seattle last week. An article about an unusual spot in British Columbia popped off the page--a floating lodge!

Every spring the King Pacific Lodge, a 17 room/suite luxury lodge is towed from its winter home in Prince Rupert to its anchorage in Barnard Harbor in the heart of the Great Bear Rainforest, the world's largest remaining tract of temperate rainforest. In 2006, a coalition of native people, the Britisch Columbian government, and private enterprise placed 21 million acres of the rainforest under protection to safeguard it for future generations. The lodge operates on a "triple bottom line" philosophy which includes a deep respect for the land, for the people of the land, and an understanding that sustainable tourism can only happen with visitors who feel the same way.

The lodge is built of native pine, fir, cedar, and stone on a 120x60 square foot barge. It has a wrap around deck, spa, Jacuzzi and plunge pool. Orcas, humpbacks, bears, seals, sea lions, sea otters, and eagles can be found in the area and wilderness guides are available to help you find them.

Guests are flown in from Bella Bella (about 2.5 hours from Vancouver) by float plane. What a way that would be to start a vacation!

British Columbia on Dwellable

Best Past Vacations -- The French River 4

When our annual two week fishing trips to the French River in Ontario, Canada, began I can't be sure. The earliest I show up in a picture of our Canadian trips I must have been about four or five years old. The Northern Pike my dad caught was as long as I was tall and it made for a good trophy picture. Tales of seaplane rides to remote lakes and grizzly bear visits in the night added to great family stories but there are many other treasured memories.

I can still smell the pine, hear the whisper as the wind blew through the needles. The river water was icy cold--probably because it came from colder regions. Only on very warm days were we brave enough to jump in and then only to scramble out as quickly as possible. Blueberry picking despite the fear of bears. And fishing.

The water in the river was so very clear that it was hard to tell how deep it was near the wooden dock near our cabin. We would use a couple of my father's old fishing rods and reels to fish from the dock. I could put a worm on a hook since--well, I can't remember a time when I couldn't. I would bait a hook and lower the line into the water. There was never need for a bobber to tell you when a fish was biting. I would just watch until a fish had its mouth around the worm and then jerk up to hook it. To me, the fish seemed big but bigness is relative and I was still pretty small.

The last vacation we spent at the French River was semi-sweet. Dad had decided to buy property at Put-In-Bay, Ohio, and build a second home where we could spend weekends and summers. On the day we left, the first electric light fixture was installed in the cabin where we'd stayed. Progress was moving into the back woods.

Perhaps to lighten the mood or perhaps just because he was who he was and loved a good joke, Dad had some fun as we crossed the Peace Bridge and stopped to clear the border. Those days all you had to do was declare you were a U.S. citizen. My grandfather always had to have his naturalization papers with him though. He would hand them to my dad who would pass them to the border guard. The border guard would then ask if everyone else was born in the U.S.

Instead of just saying "yes" this time Dad said, "The kids and I were born in Ohio and my wife was born in Kokomo."

The border guard looked in the back seat at my mom and asked, "Do you have your papers?"

"Kokomo is in Indiana. I'm a citizen," she replied with a red face. Embarrassed or angry? I can only guess.

Best Past Vacations--The French River 3

Our French River adventures in Ontario, Canada, not only gave my mother some good stories to tell but my grandfather as well. There were lots of great fishing spots in the area but some were only accessible by sea plane. At least a couple of times during our annual two week stay, Dad and Grandpa would fly off to a remote lake and fish for the day.

There was only one time I remember them taking my mother who also loved to fish. I think it was the year there was a high school or college student staying with her family in a cabin near ours who offered to babysit my brother and I. I remember that being a great day. She showed us how she could dissect a frog. Wonder how my mom felt about that? But I digress. . .

The sea plane could only accommodate two passengers for some reason so my grandfather offered to be the first in to the lake and the last out. He boasted he wasn't afraid of bears. But as he sat in the boat and fished while he waited his turn, he noticed the head of a bear moving through the water and the bear was headed right for him. He started rowing. The boat apparently didn't have a motor. He rowed his best trying to out maneuver the bear which eventually either gave up or was scared away by the return of the plane.

We always knew when Grandpa was retelling his adventure whether he told it in English or his native Bohemian. His eyes grew bigger and bigger and his hands would gesture more and more. Of course his fish stories were like that too. Hmmmm.