When we got back to the chalet we found a note from Alan saying he and Maggie would be round to pick us up in about an hour so we made ourselves a coffee and waited. We had both fallen asleep by the time they arrived. Maybe it was the jet lag catching up with us or all the fresh air.
“We thought we’d take you out to see some trails,” Maggie said.
“Not far, just about an hour’s drive there and back,” Alan added.
This was when I realised that not far has a completely different meaning in Canada. In England, not far means a mile down the road, in Canada, if it’s less than an hour’s drive it’s nearby. Suddenly I began to wonder just how long these trails were. Continue reading A family outing, Port Carling, Huckleberry Rock and Bracebridge
We reached our motel in Gravenhurst in darkness so it wasn’t until the next morning that we had any idea about the view. At about six thirty I opened my eyes and saw what looked like trees outside the large window. Trying hard not to wake Commando I grabbed my padded jacket, pulled on yesterday’s leggings and jumper and crept out the back door to investigate. What I found was a high balcony looking out onto glimmering water and the tops of trees. The sun was just beginning to come up so I pulled on my hat against the cold and sat watching the light reveal more. Slowly colours began to appear. There was grass far below and blue sky. Then, as it got lighter still, houses on the far shore and trees in colours so bright it brought tears to my eyes. When I got too cold to carry on sitting there Commando was awake, staring out of the window with a look of wonder in his eyes.
“This has to be the best view we have ever had from a hotel room,” he said. Continue reading Foraging in Gravenhurst