Day 2

I didn’t sleep well last night. It was too hot in the room and I couldn’t adjust the air conditioner to make it cooler. Before leaving Niagara Falls, we stopped in at the Maple Leaf Place, a shop designed to snag tourists and make them part with cash. Obviously, everything in the shop is maple based, whether it’s syrup, fudge, clothes, or other souvenirs. They also offered maple syrup tastings which Kati was excited about because it was a tasting G3 could participate in. Usually, we do wine tastings and G3 is bored because he’s too young to join us. But syrup is for everyone. While we didn’t buy syrup, we did get a square of fudge to indulge in later tonight when we are hanging out at the campsite.

When I was a kid, my favorite part of the year was summer vacation. Okay, that hasn’t changed. I predominantly went into teaching because the concept of working over the summer was too foreign to me. My parents introduced me to the joys of travel at a young age and I became completely smitten. Nothing excites me more then visiting a place I’ve never been too before, or revisiting a place I love but don’t get to return to often. My father often said I didn’t have to say thank you for taking me to new places, instead he wanted me to pay it forward and if I had a child do the same for him that he did for me. This morning, while sitting at breakfast, I was thinking about my first trip to Niagara when I was a child. It was the trip where we left at two o’clock in the morning because Dad was so excited he couldn’t fall asleep. I remember walking in a park near the falls, my brother eating broasted chicken, and standing on the Maid of the Mist. I hope someday G3 looks back on his memories of our trips as fondly as look back on mine. It’s times like this that I really miss Dad and wish I could call him up and talk.

Nineteen years ago, when queer marriage was not yet legal in the States, Kati and I crossed the border to get married in Toronto. G3 knows our history and since Niagara Falls is less than two hours from Toronto, we decided to take a detour and stop by the city so G3 could see it. Last night, while doing research to determine what we might do for an hour or so in Toronto, Kati stumbled across Glad Day. It is the oldest surviving queer bookstore in North America. Knowing my obsession for books and reading, Kati decided it was a must to visit. The queer section of Toronto is nestled in an area that is extremely run down. Buildings on the streets leading to the Village are falling down. The appear decrepit and uninhabitable. I have also never seen so many seemingly homeless people congregated in one area before—and I grew up in New York.

Glad day is a small bookstore that serves coffee and cocktails. It also hosts events at night. Based on the inventory, I’m guessing they make most of their money at the bar. The shelves are broken into sections: young adult, sapphic, gay men, graphic novels, nonfiction, etc. Of course, I could not resist the urge to purchase a book. How could I not support the oldest queer bookstore? Maybe someday I will be able to return to do a book reading/signing. I am adding that to my vision quest. A new goal for the upcoming new year. The book I got—Therese and Isabelle by Violette Ledug—is translated from it’s original French and had been censored for half a century following its publication due to its racy exploration of two school girls who fall in love.

Queer section of the city equals lots and lots of rainbows. I stopped to take pictures and we asked G3 to take our picture in front of a rainbow painted on the side of a building. He grumbled about it, but he did it. Before getting back in the car, I did buy him a root beer from A&W.

Next, we headed over to City Hall so G3 could see where we got married. We wanted to walk around there as well, but there was absolutely no parking. So we set for rolling down the windows and taking a picture. Unless my memory is poor, which is entirely possible, Toronto has changed, and not for the better. I did not remember the area

around City Hall looking old and crumbly. yet it definitely did not appear to be the sort of place I desire to spend any time.

G3 wanted to go up the CN tower, but not only was it pricey, finding parking and getting tickets at a time that would have allowed us to beat rush hour traffic out often the city would have been tricky. Besides, we are all antsy to get out of the congested parts of Canada and escape to places less densely populated. As it is, it’s only two o’clock and we are sitting in traffic. We are now headed to the “Deep South” of Canada. Point Pelee National Park—which dangles into Lake Erie—is the most southern part of Canada. The campground there was booked, but we found a campsite nearby.

We stopped at ca in Tilbury, Ontario for dinner. Tilbury is a small town located in the middle of farmland and surrounded by dozens of windmills. The restaurant feels like it is in the middle of nowhere. It’s a one man operation—an older man working as waiter and cook. My falafel sandwich was surprisingly good, but Kati and G3 said the burger was average.

It was nearly sunset when we arrived at Wheatley Provincial Park where we are spending the night. We set up camp and then attempted a campfire, but the bugs were merciless, so we gave up and escaped into our tents.