Due to our body clock still being set to UK time, we woke at 1am (6am BST), 3am (8am BST) and eventually gave up at 5am (11am BST). By 5:20am Char was one coffee down and pondering a second cup. As is our normal pattern, Liz was last to stir, with one of either myself or Char brought first to the flag most mornings. A city of this size is never truly dark, but it was fascinating to watch it get light. At this one point, it felt like someone was slowly turning a large dimmer switch or fading up the stage lights for the opening scene.
We breakfasted at Tim Hortons on a round of bacon, egg and cheese croissants – minus egg, and then shared a BLT bagel also minus egg. But beware of steeped tea dear reader, which is strong and well stewed. It’s almost strong enough to dissolve the teaspoon! Unless you love a “builder’s tea” (put your hand up Sophie), I recommend you always choose bagged tea, as Liz and I have now discovered. In contrast, Char’s cappuccino was exactly what she was expecting whereas my tea defo was not. Once breakfast was munched we scooted back, to pack, exit the apartment and await the arrival of our taxi to the stashed bag store near the station. We needed the services of a left luggage facility due to our bus to Niagara not departing until 3pm.
Bags stashed, we headed back to the CN Tower so we could immerse ourselves in full tourist mode. Faced with the choice, consider which option you’d take to ascend to the required level. A) rapid lift – 58 seconds, B) stairs – 42 minutes (quickest time 30mins)?? Even without Liz’s more ability issues, we chose the lift. The elevator up to the viewing platform was so rapid it made your ears pop. And thanks to the glass doors, you’re treated to a panoramic view as you hurtle upwards.
For the corrageous you can take a walk along “the edge”, sans rail. Liz said under normal circumstances she’d have contimplated it, but sadly couldn’t entertain the idea this time due to her reduced mobility. My response, dream on girlie!
Once you enter the viewing platform zone, your first order of business is to have your official CN Tower photo taken. Quite rightly, Liz opted not to immortalise herself in the wheelchair for this photo. Having been dismissed by the photographer and asked to move on, the corridor ahead meanders around a little and up a couple of ramps. It’s not obvious until you think about it afterwards, but you’re gently ascending one floor to the viewing platform. The circular viewing platform has full-height windows, which were a real blessing for Liz. We spent the next 40 mins shuffling at a micro pace around the viewing platform pointing out places we saw the previous day. We also saw several planes land or take off from Billy Bishop Airport, and had a good view of the apartment block we’d stayed in. Before taking the yellow lift down one floor, we sat on some high stools and enjoyed a beverage (largely because Char had a coffee itch that desperately needed to be scratched). With our drinks, we nibbled 1/3 of a shared slice of carrot cake. Rest complete, we agreed on a slight change of plan. We’d indulge ourselves in one more loop of the viewing platform, rather than rush downstairs and regret not taking a second look. After all, on a second pass, you often spot things you’d missed the first time around.
Satisfied we’d seen everything we wanted to, we took the elevator one floor down to the lower viewing deck. From here you can look down through the glass floor and also enjoy the view from the angled glass sides which provide a lean-forward view over the sides. Your view of the ground below is easier to digest if you aren’t a fan of heights, due to the diagonal trajectory. All of us stepped up to take a look, which was awesome (and brave). From there the outdoor terrace beckoned, which was a welcome change as it was becoming pretty stuffy inside. The outdoor terrace isn’t an open balcony, which would invite tragedy, it has three-quarter height glass sides topped with mesh. The total ceiling height was at a guess 10 or 12 ft, so considerably higher than our UK ceilings, pushing the mesh well above head height. Despite this the breeze was significant and there was a welcome drop in temperature.
Once Char had cooled, we glided back inside to ride the lift down to the gift shop. After all, everyone knows all the best attractions exit through a gift shop. Oh! I almost forgot to include a feat of bravery and courage. Before we entered the lift I held Char’s hand and we walked right across the large glass floor, through which you could see the ground below. At first, she squirmed, but I was firm (but gentle) and reassured her she’d be OK. A breath or two later, her initial panic had subsided and we walked slowly across it. Only Char knows why she tip-toed. Maybe she thought that’d decrease the likelihood of the glass cracking – no idea. Afterwards, she was happy she’d be able to add it to her list of achievements.
Anyhow, back to my account of the gift shop. The gifts were an eclectic mix of native Canadian art of inspired clothing and knick-knacks, CN Tower memorabilia and general Canadian tourism merch.
I proposed a bagel place for lunch, recalling the great bagel place we’d seen previously on Spadina Avenue and figured we’d find something similar in the city center. To try and restore some of Liz’s lost autonomy, she’s been our navigator, ably driving Google Maps. A quick scan of her phone discovered a bagel deli literally 90 seconds around the corner. The words you’re looking for at this point are “functional” and “deflating”. At least that’s how I felt when we were reading their menu. I knew we could find somewhere that’d change those words into “exciting” and “inspiring”, so we headed downstairs to the concourse level. (Remember yesterday when I initiated you in the not-so-secret underground Toronto?)
The concourse-level food court hit a home run on the first ball…. And the crowd went wildcas the stadium erupted into applause. Not really. But that’s how it seemed in my head as we examined each of the many food vendors in turn, finally settling on Pumpernickles (see photo).
After lunch, we decided to ease our transition into Niagara and discover the location of the rebel base bus depot without our luggage. This turned out to be a great plan because it revealed a set of improvement works, half on the pavement and half on the adjacent stairs. It also allowed us to discover how many changes of level were required to complete our task. Once we’d located the bus depot, we elected to leave Liz there while Char and I returned to the left luggage to collect our cases and bags.
Our MegaBus (name of bus company,) was ably driven by a diminutive Chinese lady of advancing years. But to her credit, and possible years of experience, she glided our bus out into the heavy traffic and along the Queen Elizabeth Way which is the major artery connecting Toronto with Niagara with a delicate touch. But to assume she was slow and hesitant is to totally underestimate her. She nipped from lane to lane expertly avoiding the hazards in her path, as if she’d been driving a Fiat 500. There were a ton of roadworks along our route, dispelling the myth that they’re a quirk of UK roads. At times our speed dropped like a stone to 3 or 4 mph which was inevitable as every man and his truck seemed to be heading in our direction. Our route included a couple of high bridges to provide access for large ships into Lake Ontario.
Loads of traffic in the road ahead
The final leg of our route saw a change in scenery as we entered a wine-producing region of Canada. Char was quite surprised by the fact that there were vineyards with grapes ready to be harvested. And also the sheer scale of them as the neat rows disappeared into the distance. As we drew closer to Niagara, lots of out-of-town retail parks adorned the side of the road. We saw a multitude of different stores including LaziBoy furniture, Dollarama, Home Depot and more car dealerships than you could wave a dipstick at. But the funniest thing of all was Liz woke from her afternoon nap just as we passed Ikea as if it’d telepathically reached out to her – LOL.
Finally, the bus arrived in Niagara in a flurry of drizzle. as we stood on the pavement collecting our luggage, the same question flashed acorss our minds. Why was it raining? I mean of all the bad timing, that took the biscuit. Grrr. Turns out, dear reader, that it wasn’t raining at all but we were being coated in airborne water vapour from the waterfall (200m away from us).
Liz ordered a taxi on her app. (I’ve never used a taxi app, and for the uninitiated like me, there’s a cartoon image of a taxi which you can see gliding down a map of the local area towards you.) I paced over to the taxi to confirm it was for us, to discover this old boy trying to steal it out from under us – the cheek! But I guess when you’re used to the old-school way of hailing a cab, using an app seems a bit alien to you.
The hybrid taxi glided silently away from the busstop and along the main road towards our hotel. You can imagine the scene in your head, if you think of big flower boxes in the middle of the road, lots of seaside town planting (that’ll be flowerbeds) in the well groomed grassy areas near the road, block paved sidewalks and low whitewashed walls. Sounds lovely, right? And then we turned left and up the hill. Every feeling of a well-to-do seaside town were dashed on the rocks below as a mini Las Vegas / Blackpool illuminations filled the entire view infront of us. Wowza! It was like we’d been teleported from one to other. Totally bizarre. There are a ton of house of horrors, complete with spooky ride, a big wheel (think of the big wheel nr Westminster London), a speedway (motorised go carts), loads of eateries and sourvenier shops.
Our hotel is very comfortable and this is one of the few occasions we’re actually staying in a hotel, complete with included breakfast. On arrival we were offered freshly baked chop-chip cookies (the posh ones) – limited to one each (according to the hand written notice in and underlined in red pen, with a complimentary tea/coffee. After three hours of bus journey, the ladies grateful munched their cookie.
Room found, bags dropped, we u-turned back and immediately walked back to “Blackpool”. The first place we looked at was “The Works” a burger grill which felt familiar. Liz and I are sure we’ve eaten in one last September when we went for a two day trip to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Hoping we’d see something a little more inviting as we’re only here for one night, we kept going. Liz’s eagle eye had spotted Kelsey’s Bar and Grill, which had a lovely looking menu. Our host greeted us with a large smile and showed us to our table, which conveniently had a 40cm gap between the table and railing (think of this area in the restaurant being like a balcony), where we could leave the folded wheelchair while Liz sat on a dining chair.
I had the grilled salmon with peppers, miushroom, broccoli and rice. The ladies has a grilled pieces of sirloin steak, bacon, swiss cheese (emmental to you) in a bun with fires and ketchup. And as no meal would be complete without Char having a pint of lager, she didn’t dissappoint. I ordered an orange and lemonade and the waitress looked at me as if I’d spoken Swahili to her. So I translated and explained it was like a shandy with OJ instead of beer.
Last of order of business for the day was a once round “Blackpool”, by way of using up the spare time before the 10pm fireworks began. Gently rolling Liz down the steep hill. Do you know how tiring it is on your thighs and shoulders to brace a wheelchair smoothly down a steep hill? Once at the bottom of the hill we inched our way through the gathered crowd and were delighted to see a couple who’d been leaning on the wall overlooking the waterfalls (yes there’s more than one, so a plural here is correct,) move on to find another spot. Quick as a flash I’d snazzled their space and whistled up Char to wheel Liz over. With her salfely in her front row seat we waited patiently for the fireworks to start. While we were waiting we enjoyed the randomly changing coloured lights illuminating the waterfalls.
The fireworks didn’t dissapoint and had the crowd enthralled with lots of “ooh and ahh”. One small thing I need to convey at this point is the geography of the area. The water’s edge at the bottom of the falls was many meters below us. I estimate around 40m down. The point where the fireworks were launched was at the water’s edge. So they felt really low, compared to those you’ve experienced at a firework event. But they were stunning.
The time spent waiting for, or enjoying the fireworks recharged my legs ready for the push back up the hill. While it was shorter then Tring Hill (by Corws Nest) it was as steep. I had no issue with oushing Liz back up it. the thing that royally brassed me off was the number of people who stumbled out in front of me. I had to get a bit narky with one bloke who seemed immune to my shouts of “excuse me, mind your back, or coming through”. But it was a memorable night and we slept soundly.