I hadn't been on a vacation in a year and a half. I'd been on brief day trips, but in order to keep my sanity, I need to get out of Fort Wayne and realize that there is a world out there, and cities that have their shit together much better than the one I live in. I had undergone a very stressful time in my life, and I needed to get away from it all. But why Canada you ask? Why Canada in late November?

Partly because I'd heard about Toronto, and was intrigued by it. Conan O'Brien had visited there, the Barenaked Ladies were from there, and I'd read on Barenaked.net of people raving about what a cool place it was. I also had an ulterior motive: to visit a fan of Angry Young Woman who lived in Hamilton. That didn't work out, but it didn't matter. Toronto was a blast; a big city that was doing it right. Everything fell into place. If I didn't get to a certain place one day, I was close by to something else I wanted to do. The people were friendly, the city was clean, and I felt like I belonged there. Never have I ever visited a city and felt so....much a part of it. When you've been raised to have manners, and you visit a country where the people actually do have manners, you begin to think you've either died and gone to Heaven, or you feel like you've arrived on your home planet. Canada, Toronto especially, made me feel okay about myself, like I was among people who "got it." Canada restored my faith in humanity, which has been sorely tested over the more than three dozen years I've spent on this planet. The following is a day-by-day account of my trip. I've decided to begin each day/event with an excerpt from a Barenaked Ladies song; the group seems to have an uncanny knack to be able to write a lyric for everything. And Steven, Ed, Tyler, Jim and Kevin, if you're reading this, please don't sue me. I'm in enough trouble with my brother as it is.

November 26, 2004

"It's the perfect time of year,

somewhere far away from here,

I feel fine enough I guess,

considering everything's a mess....."

Pinch Me

I'd planned to leave at 9 a.m. But despite thinking about this trip since mid-October, and desperately wanting to get away, I was having butterflies in my stomach. I had the car checked out, but I would be driving by myself, and it would be my first substantial road trip on my own. I talked to a friend that morning who just chalked my feelings up to jitters, once I got on the road I'd feel better. And once I passed into Windsor, I actually did feel better. I stopped at a visitor's center, which had a friendly staff member who called the Windsor Spitfires to see where exactly they would be playing in Toronto. Since the greedy bastards (a.k.a. the National Hockey League) were in a lockout, my dream of seeing a major league hockey game would be put off for God knows how long. Given that hockey is Canada's national sport, I figured there'd be some hockey game going on somewhere. Windsor would be playing St. Michael's at their arena. Good enough. I got maps of the province and of Toronto, and off I went.

Driving through southern Ontario is relaxing, almost too relaxing. The roads are well-paved and smooth, there are no wacky billboards to provide amusement, and even the drivers are courteous. They drive faster than the speed limit, but there are few of the crazy antics you see on U.S. highways. There are a few small towns, but for the most part, driving on the 401 is s snap.

Time and again, it seems like Canada gives a shit about things. I saw highway signs saying, "Tailgating Kills: Leave some space," or "Fatigue kills: Take a break." And yes, they were in French, too. There are no such niceties on American highways; instead there are the ubiquitous crosses marking the death of a loved one. I guess I understand the logic behind that, but seeing the crosses make me think the highway was accidentally constructed through a cemetery.

From the 401 you take the 403 to Hamilton, and arriving at night is quite a sight. Hamilton looks like it's in a valley, at least when you are coming from the west. It was rather cool for this Indiana native to actually be able to look out over a city, and drive down into it. After a few minutes delay because I got lost (I wasn't paying attention to where I was going) I found my hotel and made a few phone calls. I found a decent restaurant, then went to an Internet cafe to check email. I notified my friend in Hamilton that I was there, and that he should call. He never did, and that is a story in itself. I finally did go to bed around 2 a.m. and thus would set the pace for the rest of the trip.

The nastiest Canadian toilet I saw. It was the only

one. (Photo taken in a very small Canadian town.)

November 27, 2004

"That guy should be me,

I'd look much better on TV,

then the world would see

that I can do anything..."

Never Do Anything

I don't remember much about the first morning I was in Hamilton. I must have eaten breakfast or something, because in my journal entry I make a big deal about what I bought at the grocery store, which I didn't actually walk to, but I could have. I'm a bit shocked that it was $21 for a bottle of Tylenol, feminine napkins, a bottle Pepsi, a copy of the Hamilton Spectator and a bag of M&M's. Please realize I live in Fort Wayne Indiana, where nearly everything is dirt cheap. Well, I guess I don't buy Tylenol all that often, and paying $5.99 for that sort of thing always surprises me. The Hamilton Spectator had a great story about a man named Morris Lax, a guy who had owned a junkyard in Hamilton, was wealthy and was mysteriously killed at his business. Apparently this guy drove his workers hard, but he worked right alongside them. This was a strange and interesting man, and the article made me want to join a newspaper and tell the kind of stories I wanted to tell.

I had planned to check out Dundurn Castle, but I guess I didn't get there in time. I had slept late because I'm a night owl and my long drive took its toll, and partially because I took my time getting ready to go out. Dundurn was closing, so I decided to head to Toronto. I parked my car and started walking up Spadina; heading into Chinatown. I walked until I found a restaurant I thought would serve the dish I was looking for, after about a half hour walk, I found it. I ate practically everything and started walking again. I have a thing for tall buildings, so I walked back to the CN Tower and went up, waaaaay up.

At left: the Air Canada Centre (big square thing with two red circles) and downtown Toronto as seen from the CN tower at night.

I loved looking down at the city at night; everything was lit up, and despite it being a Saturday night, the observation decks were practically empty. I took a lot of pictures, and contemplated calling one of my friends, just to do the old, "hey, guess where I am?" routine. But I didn't. I couldn't resist going to Speakers Corner. I watched in amusement as a family struggled with their two-minute spiel. I, of course, launched into a loving monologue about my trip so far, and being a publicity whore, mentioned angryyoungwoman.com. I never did find out if I wound up on national television, but I guess I didn't. My fan in Hamilton told me about a place called the Bovine Sex Club, and the name was so bizarre I had to go there. To get past the doorman, I had to answer a few questions. Did I have any knives in my bag. No. Did I have any weapons of mass destruction in my bag. No. Did I have any reading material in my bag? Yes, guide books. He wasn't going to let me in, because I was literate. It's sort of that kind of place; dark, low-ceilinged, packed full of people, although I found a place to sit in the back of the room, in a barber chair. I read for a little bit, but not being a club-type person, I eventually left after about 40 minutes or so. I discovered Shopper's Drug Mart; this wonderful emporium is open until midnight. I love the fact I can buy Lancome cosmetics and a bottle of Coke at the same store. I chatted with one of the employees, telling her I was delighted to find a store that catered to night owls who loved to shop. I found the street where my hockey game was on, and went back to my hotel.

November 28, 2004

"Drove downtown in the rain,

9:30 on a Tuesday night,

just to check out the late night

record shop....."

Brian Wilson

It's hockey ni....er, um, afternoon in Canada! Actually, it WAS raining when I drove into Toronto this afternoon, but I was on my way to a hockey game at St. Michael's arena. I expected a much bigger sign and building, but didn't realize that this was a Catholic school, and probably the same one Barenaked Ladies keyboardist Kevin Hearn attended as a kid. I looked around, but I didn't see any shrines to Mr. Hearn, but the hockey arena probably wasn't the right place to be looking either. I arrived a few minutes late, and finally abandoned my car in a spot that technically wasn't marked as parking. Others were also streaming in to see Major Junior A hockey. The arena was probably the size of McMillen, which doesn't mean anything to you readers living outside Fort Wayne. It was regulation ice, with six metal bleacher benches behind each long side of the ice, and one row behind each short end. At the top of the sixth bleacher bench in the back, was a railing so standing room only had a place to go. And it was standing room only. It wasn't the NHL, but this was hockey. Alas, the home team, the St. Michael's Majors, lost to the visiting Windsor Spitfires. It was heartwarming to see a young, loud group rooting for St. Michael's, it was also nice to see a standing room only crowd. Of course, this WAS Canada's national sport, but it made me realize the support that seems to prevail no matter what level of hockey is being played. Since I was downtown anyway, after the game I thought I'd complete the hockey-themed day by dining at Wayne Gretzky's. Located at 99 Blue Jay Way (naturally!) I parked my car and went in. The food, as the guidebooks truthfully stated, wasn't anything to write home about, but how many people do YOU know who've eaten at The Great One's place? I got a hamburger and fries, with the number "99" toasted into the top inside part of the bun. I should have taken a picture of it, but I didn't.

Actually, I think I took the least amount of pictures on this trip than I've ever taken in my life. For some reason, I was driven like I'd never driven before, to walk and absorb as much of this city as I could. I realized about three days into it that I wouldn't be able to keep up this pace and stay healthy; I entertained the thought of taking some leftover prednisone (steroids, but legal) with me so I'd have extra energy to do everything I wanted to do. It seemed I was constantly in motion, and at times, didn't want to stop to eat.

More walking; I ended up at Sonic Boom, a huge, well-lit CD store that also stocked videos. I picked up a few CDs here, one of which was "H-Wing," by Kevin Hearn. Another gem was "Unhitched!" by the Trailer Park Troubadours. Country music is an easy target to make fun of, but these guys do it very well. I also got U2's "The Joshua Tree," and "Born on a Pirate Ship," by Barenaked Ladies. I stopped at Tim Horton's for a snack before returning to my car. It was so cool to be walking downtown after 10 p.m. and still be able to go shopping! And God Bless Tim Horton's for having several locations open 24 hours a day!

November 29, 2004

"They're opening their presents big and small,

Mr. Johnson got a big brown bowling ball;

Sally got a brand new pair of skates,

Jimmy got a box of frosty flakes;

he knows that there's a special little prize inside,

what a happy moment -- it's Christmastime."

Christmastime (Oh Yeah)

Despite the Boycott of the Greedy Bastards (NHL) I had to go and see the Hockey Hall of Fame. I figured a weekday would be best, as it wouldn't be too crowded. I was right, and I was there for four hours, but I STILL didn't see the whole place, and I didn't have time to browse through the gift shop. The Hockey Hall of Fame has more hockey stuff than you can possibly imagine. The origins of the sport. Minor-league hockey. The NHL. Olympic hockey. College hockey. Women's hockey. Little kids hockey. And hockey played on something that looked like luges; you could sit down while playing it. Stanley Cup highlight films. This is Hockey Mecca, and sure to impress both fans and people who just plain like museums. There's also interactive stuff like having pucks shot at you by The Great One to test your goaltending skills; you can also test your wrist shot as well. I suck at both, just so you know.

By the time the place closed, I was ready for some food. The Hockey Hall of Fame is basically located in what looks to be a giant mall/office complex. There was a food court, and I settled on some Chinese food. While taking a break, I consulted my guide books for information on Nathan Phillips skating rink. I trudged back to the car to get my skates, and hopped a street car to get there. I suppose I could have walked, but I was just so tired from walking all over the place, I figured it would be wise to rest my feet while I could. Riding the streetcar is a cool way to see the city, and I got to check out the city while I rode to my destination.

Nathan Phillips Square is where City Hall is, basically. It's an interestingly shaped building, very colorful, and the gentleman I met while skating said if you viewed the building from the sky, it resembled an eye. At the rink, they had Christmas lights up. The ice itself is lit by lights arching over part of the rink; in warmer months, it serves as a giant pond. It was absolutely free to skate, though they charged for skate rental. The rink had just opened for the season a couple days before; and it was a school night, so it really wasn't very crowded, which was a blessing for me. The rink doesn't have a railing. It has a foot-high ledge running around the surface of the ice, which is handy if you want to sit down, but not so handy if your balance is shaky. I took it easy, but gradually got used to it. A gentleman was checking out my progress and made the comment that I was looking more steady with each lap I took. I stopped to talk to him for a bit. He had played hockey, and was practically a pro on his skates, but we managed to skate and chat at the same time. We had hot chocolate afterward, and he went home. But I hadn't had enough skating yet, so I returned to the rink even though it was technically closed. There aren't any fences around the rink, and so anyone could skate. Even though hockey playing was specifically not allowed, a half dozen boys had brought sticks and pucks and were knocking it around. I didn't want to interfere, so I went over and asked them if they planned to use the whole rink. They said no, but also said if any more people showed up, it might turn into a game. I said okay, and continued to skate. I loved this: downtown Toronto, skating, and it was peaceful. The hockey kids and I co-existed. A stray puck bounced against my skate blade and they said, "sorry." Imagine that! In Fort Wayne, no apology would have been made. I could get used to the Canadian way of having manners. For the first time in my life, I felt like I actually belonged to the human race. Instead of being looked at strangely because I HAVE manners, I was among people who "got it." They were raised right. I finally tired out, skating by the lights of the office buildings, and headed back to my hotel.

At Left: Nathan Phillips Square in all its Holiday glory

November 30, 2004

"Our world works in a weird way

I've heard them say a man with a beard may

frighten children or dogs

but a moustache scares me more."

I Know

Went to the Bata Shoe Museum, which is several floors of the history of shoes, famous shoes, and some very elaborate shoes of the 16th 17th and 18th centuries. The museum I would say is more on the north side of downtown, and while I was in the neighborhood, I popped into Honest Ed's. I'll be Honest; I didn't quite get the appeal of this place. But I will say it reminded me of the old G.C. Murphy store in downtown Fort Wayne. For those of you not of the city, or not even old enough to remember the place, Murphy's was a multi-level dime store. Honest Ed's seemed sort of the same, but not really. There were a ton of clothes, kitchen gadgets, small appliances, candy and lots of other stuff, but the only thing I really bought were postcards. I wasn't sure exactly what I was expecting, but 99-cent long-johns weren't it. It was definitely an old-school department store, and it was pleasant to see something like that still existed, but it did make me wonder, as being in Canada did, how the wheelchair-bound went about their business. I didn't notice an elevator in Honest Ed's, and while I was at the Eaton Centre the next day, I realized the one washroom I went to was located up a staircase. It would make sense that Canada would have something resembling a "Canadians With Disabilities Act," but maybe there were secret elevators that I didn't know about. On the way back to my car, I rode on a streetcar. I heard a loud pop, which really freaked me out; recently there was an 11-year-old girl shot on a city bus. The popping noise was some kids blowing up a condom. I went skating again, and chatted with my new friend and sipped more hot chocolate. I actually got a look at Eaton Centre for the first time during my trip, and the area it's located in resembled Times Square a bit, except it was much cleaner. It finally did start to rain tonight, which didn't help my fatigue.

December 1, 2004

"I'm in a comic store

lookin' for some mistakenly priced comic I could make

a fortune on

and in walks the Fantastic Four

I say, 'don't go, that last issue was cool!'"

Same Thing

I thrift shop everywhere I can, and so I went to Wear It's At, in Hamilton, to see what I could find. I was hoping for a Roots varsity-style jacket (I would later find out they are called "award jackets") but the only one I found was toddler-sized. Anyway, I did find a varsity jacket anyway, this one from Blessed Sacrament, which I would guess is a Catholic school in Hamilton. It really is a sharp jacket, black leather sleeves, the rest of it wool. Plus, there's a cool embroidered logo of a bee, or maybe it's a wasp, sinking a basketball into a hoop. I also found a couple of sweaters, one of them cashmere, a pair of jeans, a denim shirt, and a book about Conn Smythe for a mere $54.01 Canadian. I stayed around Hamilton most of today. It was windy, but it didn't rain. I went prowling around a store called Zeller's. I was looking for those mini license plates, hoping to find one with my name on it for the province of Ontario, but I couldn't find them. Zeller's gave me the creeps for some reason.

December 2, 2004

"Well you know that it's going to be all right,

I think it's going to be all right,

everything will always be all right,

when we go shopping...."

Shopping

My one semi-educational/tourist adventure today was Casa Loma, a big house on the north side of downtown. Someone actually did live there, but the dang thing cost so much to heat ($15,000 a year) that the guy eventually had to sell it, 10 years after they built it. I think the Rotary Club or maybe its Kiwanis or Lions clubs saved it and now they run the place. It's hard to imagine someone living there; but it reminded me a little bit of the Bass Mansion at the University of St. Francis. Again, if you don't live in Fort Wayne, you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, but think early 1900s mansion, and you'll get the idea. Later on, I did my big shopping spree. And boy, Yonge Street is dangerous. Like, really, really dangerous. The Eaton Centre is at the foot of it, and yeah, it's a mall, but the stores are a little different. Roots was the first place I went to, in hopes of finding a varsity-style jacket. I wasn't thrilled about having to pay full price for it, but I was hoping to find a replica of the varsity jackets the Canadian team wore during the 2002 Olympics. No such luck of course, but my eyes feasted on a jacket that was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l. Dark blue leather sleeves, red wool, an R on the left side, and best of all, the back of the jacket had "Canada" emblazoned on the back. Baby, I'm in love. I tried one on, and I was apprehensive because the only size that was big enough was a large. When I fastened the bottom two snaps, the jacket was a bit snug on me. I had to have it though. Had to. Even if I wear it only a handful of times, the thing is like a shrine to me. Varsity jackets get me hot. And I think it's because my mom got rid of my high school varsity jacket that I had to have in order to wear my music letter on it. Because she got rid of the one thing I treasured from high school, I've now turned into a letter jacket junkie. So after I blew a couple hundred at Roots, I walked around to see what else was shakin'. I knew I wanted popcorn, so I got some. I looked around a couple more stores and hopped into HMV to see if they would possibly have "Degrassi: The Next Generation" for my niece. That was one of the things she requested before I left. I scooped it up, and also grabbed "The Barenaked Truth," a DVD about guess who. It features an interview with the guys, concert footage and best of all, a glimpse into their private lives and where they like to hang out and their hobbies and stuff. I figured I wouldn't be able to find it in the states, so I got that and also got "Barenaked For the Holidays," quite possibly one of the best holiday CDs I've purchased. It has the right amount of serious and silly songs, and it's the one holiday CD I can listen to and not cry. I also ducked into the "World's Biggest Book Store." I'm not sure if it is, but it was a hell of a big store, and brightly lit. I picked up a book about two of Canada's most notorious residents, Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka. The guy I met skating and I got to talking about all sorts of things, and one of the subjects was people who aren't what they appear to be. Bernardo and Homolka were a cute-as-pie Canadian couple who just happened to like abducting young girls and drugging them to be sex slaves. I should have picked up the sequel while I was there, but my spending was scaring even me, so I held myself in check, even though there was another book I should have snagged too. After my shopping spree, I drove up and down Yonge Street, taking in the action and trying not to run any red lights or mow people down. I also spent some time in Sam the Record Man, and a poster shop whose name I can't remember, looking for posters of Barenaked Ladies. I listened to them as I drove in my car, reflecting a bit on my trip and not being able to believe it was Thursday already.

At right: The Canadian Falls

December 3, 2004

"Would you please ignore

that you found me on the floor,

trying on your camisole?

Oh alcohol,

would you please forgive me?

For while I cannot love myself,

I'll use something else."

Alcohol

Niagara Falls was a relatively short drive from Hamilton, and as I said before, the highways are very decent. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone; I'd see the Falls and on the way back, stop at a vineyard and get some wine, since I'd be passing through Canada's wine country. December is not an ideal time to visit Niagara Falls; it's more than a little chilly, but if you hate crowds, it's the best time to go. Of course, the place is practically deserted; all the tourist-type things, like the Maid of the Mist boat tour, aren't running, but if you just simply want to see the falls and leave, it's certainly doable. I stayed on the Canadian side and snapped pix of both American and Canadian falls, but was warned the American side was incredibly commercialized, and I didn't want to go through the hassle of passing over the boarder and perhaps not being able to get back into Canada. It was a bit overcast, but right before I was ready to leave, the sun came out and a rainbow shone through the mist of the Canadian falls. Talk about good karma. This trip was full of it.

As I said previously, I didn't want to take time to eat because I was so excited about going and seeing as much as possible. But I wanted to check out Swiss Chalet. Turns out it's a chicken and fries joint, but if I remember correctly, the one I ate at had a bar, which gave the establishment a fast food-with-alcohol-ambience to it.

I still had time to check out a vineyard, so it was just a matter of driving on the highway and picking one. I chose Hernder Vineyards, in St. Catherine's. The establishment had free wine tasting with a four wine limit. I was worried I wouldn't be able to find a wine with only four choices to make, but technically, nothing could stop me from driving to another vineyard, and slugging down four more samples. As it was, I found a delicious peach-nectarine wine, wonderfully sweet. I'm not a wine drinker, but a friend requested some wine as a souvenir, so I tried to pick out something enjoyable. Since we have similar tastes, I felt confident my choice would be a good one. I got three bottles, one for my friend, one for me, and one for my brother and sister-in-law.

At left: Canadian sign; American Falls in background. Shouldn't this sign say, "Danger eh?" And shouldn't it also be in French?

It was Friday, and I got back to Hamilton around 5 p.m. As much as I didn't want to waste a Friday evening, I was so wiped out I really just wanted to crawl into bed with a good book and rest up. During my trek to the World's Biggest Book Store, I found "Invisible Darkness," the story of Karla Homolka and Paul Bernardo, the couple who kidnapped young girls to be their sex slaves. True crime fans will get off on the incredible details the book discloses; of course it didn't hurt that this wacko couple videotaped their escapades. A good book, a cozy hotel room ... I was so content I thought about going to get something to eat, but I was so tired, I didn't want to go get supper, nor did I want to order anything delivered to the room. You KNOW I must be wiped out when food holds no interest for me. I read until the wee hours of the night, then went to sleep.

At left: A rainbow in the Canadian Falls mist; the American Falls are in the background.

December 4, 2004

"A hydro field cuts through my neighborhood,

somehow that always just made me feel good,

I can put a spare bulb in my hand,

and light up my yard."

Light Up My Room

It wasn't the best day in the world to go to the Toronto Islands, but I wanted to get a shot of Gibraltar Point Lighthouse for a friend who loves lighthouses. The Islands were interesting; it would be a lovely place in the summer to hang out, but in the winter, there's not much going on. There was a cafe on the grounds, and a few people who actually lived there, but of course the boat and bike rentals were closed for the season. You need to take the ferry to get to the Islands, and since most vehicles are prohibited, people have to take their bikes on the boats in order to go grocery shopping on the "mainland." It was drizzling, and it took me a good hour to walk from where the boat docked to the lighthouse (only one ferry was running, and of course the lighthouse was on the other side of where the boat docked) but it was an interesting walk. I got to walk not quite along the beach, but a good breeze was making walking more of a challenge than usual. I finally got to the lighthouse, supposedly haunted, and snapped a few shots.

I couldn't go inside -- I'm not sure if that was even allowed during the season. So I headed back to the dock and hung out in a little one room house to get out of the wind. I brought a book and read until the ferry came back. I stood outside for a while to get a shot of Toronto at near twilight. The gentleman I met skating called and said he and his daughters would be at Nathan Phillips tonight. We met up, had a snack at McDonald's, and went skating. After they left, I checked email and then made my way to C'est What, a very cozy bar/restaurant. The doorman opened the door for me, which shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. I couldn't get over the friendliness of this town. I emailed my 'zine fan in Hamilton, and requested he meet me the following morning at a supermarket near his house. This would pretty much be his last chance to meet me, as I'd be leaving Monday. Today marks the first time I felt comfortable using the word "eh" in conversation.

At left: Gibraltar Point Lighthouse, Toronto Islands

December 5, 2004

"I can't stand to wait in line long,

so I built a new machine,

It just measures up the distance

and then eliminates the folks between."

Some Fantastic (Ivory and Ivory

Went to the Ontario Science Centre, a huge, HUGE facility dedicated to science on the north side of Toronto. On the way there, I stopped at Value Village, a thrift store chain, and picked up a couple hats, a magazine, a book, and a purse in the shape of an English saddle. Dior had come out with one a few years ago, but not having the money for a $1,000 purse, I couldn't get it. The purse I got was a miniature version, a no-name brand, but still neat. The science centre is built on a ravine, and you can go down, down, down these escalators, which have windows beside them and realize how steep the hill actually is. I'm afraid I pooped out and didn't enjoy the centre as much as I could have, but there were several interesting exhibits, and I even got to breed humans and fish (not together). After playing God, I went to see an exhibit on human individuality, and how we are all different, but yet the same. It explored stuff like expression, expectations, and prejudices. A truly disturbing aspect of the exhibit was the metal cabinet I made the mistake of going into without reading the warning on the outside. I went in, and a recorded message made a statement about humans not being allowed to express themselves, or something like that, and while this was playing, the walls of the exhibit started moving towards me. It was a bit like that scene in Star Wars, when Luke, Leia and Han Solo are in the trash compactor and the walls start closing in. They eventually stopped, as they did in the exhibit, but it freaked me out a bit. My 'zine fan never showed up. On the way back, I drove around for a bit, and while on Bathhurst Street, I looked out my window to the left and saw a breathtaking view of the Toronto skyline. I parked the car a few yards away, ran back, and snapped a few shots. When I got back to my hotel, I called a friend and told her how much I didn't want to leave.

Upper left: Where do Canadians go to buy beer? Why The Beer Store, of course! Upper right: Apparently, Canadians enjoy buying cheap crap as much as Americans do.

At left: House of Wayne, in Brantford (No, he doesn't live there, but his parents do)

December 6, 2004

"It's a long way back home,

to pack up and leave again,

together alone,

you without me again."

Long Way Back Home

Began the long way back home by stopping off in Brantford to see the house where Wayne Gretzky grew up and where his parents still live. The drive home was uneventful; I won 25 cents gambling at Casino Windsor; I stopped at a Chinese restaurant in Windsor, and bought a toy for my dog at some pet shop. I eventually arrived home around 2 a.m. Ironically, I didn't fall down while skating in Canada, but I fell down outside a convenience store in Michigan, and also got lost out in the middle of nowhere. A highway exit led to nowhere, and dealing with fog didn't make it any easier. Back to life, back to reality as the song says. It was a wonderful trip, and I will be back someday. Oh, by the way, my new Canadian acquaintances want you to know they do not live in igloos, they live in apartments, houses, and condos just like people in the states do.

At left: a helpful highway sign, but I still think this would have been funnier if it would have said, "Fatigue kills, take a break eh?" Bottom: Yes, there is equality on the highway, it's the same sign, in French.

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