Once upon a time in the West (of Ottawa, but still in Ontario, (part one,

Okay,so it feels like forever since we’ve been anywhere [Vancouver in February 2020;the UK in 2018], especially the whole group of us, beyond heading tofather-in-law’s in Picton, or mother-in-law’s cottage in Sainte-Adèle. We didbig ridiculous car trips at the end of each of Christine’s maternity leaves[see our trip with wee Rose here; our trip with wee Aoife and toddler Rose here,none of which our young ladies would recall], so here we are on a years-long-awaitedweek-plus drive west to Burlington, Oakville, Woodstock etcetera, all centredaround a conference that Christine is presenting at in London, Ontario. Might weeven survive the journey?

Saturday, July 22, 2023: On Saturday, we wokeearly(ish) and headed west for two nights of a hotel in Oakville, thinking thata good half-way point would be to stop at the Big Apple along the 401, just byColborne, to lunch and let the kids run around. A petting zoo! A wee train! Mini-puttgolf! I mean, if that doesn’t scream “vacation,” then what does? And given thelength of our drive, we presumed it far more interesting for the young ladiesthan simply grabbing a quick bite and one of the EnRoute locations (which arefine, but the children required a bit more).

Welanded at the Big Apple, which has become a carnival in comparison to what itwas when I first landed there back in 1993 with parents and toddler Kate. Apparentlythere’s been a new owner a decade or back ago, which really ramped up everything,from their winemaking to beermaking to rooms upon rooms of gift shop. There’sstill the mini-putt golf and the petting zoo (moved to accommodate an extendedparking lot, now twice the size) and the train for the kids, which is entertainingenough, but the whole thing of it seems to be a massive gift shop withentertainments to draw you in. Either way, I’m still in. A three-storey randomapple-shaped building on the side of the highway that pulls in busloads oftourists? Genius.

Aoifeand I did wander towards the apple itself (when Rose and Christine still in thegift shop), but we were caught in a downpour, which prompted us underneath thepatio deck with twenty other people for cover. It rained very hard! But she andI crouched down and still managed a selfie with the apple behind us. And thenwe found a quarter!

Oncewe left the apple, we drove around Toronto and into Burlington, where wevisited with Christine’s cousin Kim (technically her mother’s cousin) for a weebit. The children were handed many treats and colouring equipments, which theythoroughly enjoyed. And driving through Streetsville en route to our hotel inOakville (where I said hello in my head to Anne Stone’s parents—Anne and I stayedwith them briefly in spring 1999 during a two-day break in our nearly twomonths of touring our books together) Christine drove us by the two houses shelived in while wee—the house she was brought home from the hospital to as ababy (which she didn’t recall) and the house she grew up in, and lived in untilshe left home for university (the young ladies were sort of interested and thencompletely not interested).

Andthen to the hotel, where we dinnered and crashed for a bit. I met Andy Weaverfor a drink in the box-store monstrosity across the street. Apparently thestaff were baffled when I asked if I could walk there (due to the creek/forestbetween hotel and the mall). A ten minute walk, but apparently no one walksaround here? Cars were even slowing down to look at me strangely, walking onthese otherwise empty sidewalks. And I’m certain that there have been murdersinside those bushes. I suspect there are people probably living in there aswell.

We also drove twice (while looking at Christine houses) by a building inMississauga that was the colour of the sky. I posted it in socials as “THERE ISA BUILDING IN MISSISSSAUGA THE SAME COLOUR AS THE SKY,” and enough peoplecommented on how that should either be a title or opening line that I made somequick notes while awaiting Andy at the ridiculous chain-restaurant patio. Maybe? [Watch my substack over the next few weeks]

Sunday, July 23, 2023: Morning plans shifted abit, so we decided to make our way to Canada’s Wonderland, deliberately nottelling the young ladies where we were going until we could see the park fromthe highway, which prompted them both to start screaming. Happily, of course. GivenChristine grew up local to here, she went here lots as a kid with her family,and even more as a teen with her friends, but I’d only been once around sixteenor seventeen years of age along with my scout troupe. Our day the was one ofheavy rain, and watching the water flow like rivers through the cobblestonestreets, it having nowhere else to go. We went on the roller coaster repeatedlyin an empty park (when they’d open it again, due to rain). I think my pal RalphWilliamson and others went on the white water rafting. I mean, we were already soaked,so why not?

Therewas much running around. Each child had big emotions at either end of our visitfor their insistence upon attempting to win something banging up against theirinability to actually win anything. why do they insist on these things? And whydo they get so upset at an outcome that is entirely built in? One child at thebeginning, and the other at the end. There was much sobbing. But still, therewas much excitement and hot hot hot hot but at least a bit of a breeze for thebulk of our visit. We did about five hours, as the kids ran around on rides(some repeatedly), begged us to buy them things, we spent much of their college/universitymoney on food and even picked up some t-shirts (although in hindsight, I regretnot attempting postcards, but we were just too overwhelmed). It was curiousbeing aware that this was such a familiar space to Christine: as I grew up onthe farm, this isn’t anything I had any experience with. We did farm things. Westayed home. And when we did travel (mainly in the 1970s, before my mother’sillness took over), it was more driving trips to historic sites and towns andsuch. I recall the covered bridge in the east coast, and that creepy wax museum on Prince Edward Island, for example, when I might have been seven. I doubt myfather would have had the patience for a big park like this when I was young.

Andthen the last hour of our time there completely rained out. They’d closed oneof the kid roller coasters for thunder, re-opened and Christine and Rose got on(while Aoife and I had lunch), but by the time we’d switched, it was closedagain. Aoife and I waited twenty minutes at the gate (at least we were undercover, unlike the other two), but it was a no-go. We got completely soaked attemptingthe way out, although I found a beer hutch, which was useful. When I purchased mySEVENTEEN DOLLAR BEER, I was told I had to wear this wrist-band that proved toany staff or security that I was of legal drinking age, and therefore had theability to wander the park with a drink. Um, what? ARE YOU SAYING THAT WITHOUTTHIS WRIST-BAND YOUR STAFF WOULD OTHERWISE THINK ME UNDERAGE?

Excuse me, sir, but I am only fifteen.

Wedid manage to get through and out of the park in the ongoing downpour, andthere was that second bout of crying, but we were mostly fine. We even foundthe car again pretty quickly, but had to rush back to the hotel to completelychange, which made us about an hour late to visiting Christine’s childhoodfriend Kim (a different Kim than yesterday), but that was fine. Kim’s daughterrecently became a teen, so the young ladies were offered mounds of her daughter’sleavings, from stuffed animals to ridiculous toys to comforters to books. They couldn’timagine their incredible luck! And when I say “they,” I mean the children(getting toys etc) and Kim (who got to clear out a bunch of her house). We hadto get bags from the car. God sakes.

Ikept the wrist-band on to show it to Kim, also. I only took it off once we wereback at the hotel, as Aoife had a final pre-bedtime dip in the hotel pool. Andyhad given me a copy of the most recent issue of Ploughshares, which I triedto flip through, but wasn’t completely able to, yet.

"name this band"

Monday, July 24, 2023: Woke, eventually. Left Oakville(an hour late, naturally) for the wilds of Thorold, to visit Christine’s greatuncle Charlie and great aunt Brenda (Charlie is mother-in-law’s uncle, although they’reroughly the same age). In the hotel parking lot, a full coffee behind someone’scar, meaning there was someone else miles away from the parking lot realizing theyhadn’t brought it along.

Wehadn’t seen Charlie and Brenda in some time, and not since Charlie’s stroke, soit was good to spend some time with them and see where they’re at. It was theirdaughter’s wedding we were at back in 2019 down this way when Christine landedin hospital with meningitis, at the onset of September (she was in hospital in Niagara a week before transferred into Ottawa for a few days; I wentback to Picton to collect children and car from father-in-law so Rose couldbegin grade one that following morning). Charlie ended up moving into differentdirections from his youthful adventurings, but he was once one of the original artists (along with John Moffat, Dennis Tourbin and John Boyle) of the Niagara Artists Centre in St. Catharines, and was involved with all of that activity inthe late 60s and into the 70s, which is pretty cool to realize. A few yearsback he even sent me a bunch of photos he took of Tourbin during a particulartour around Ontario. I spent a great deal of time with Tourbin and Moffat inthe 1990s (and John Boyle, when he came through town to visit Tourbin), sointeresting to realize that connection.

Fromthere we landed with Brenda at her late mother’s house right byNiagara-on-the-Lake, to see if anything we might have wished from the house,which they’ve yet to empty and sell. A large house on a lovely lot, a formerfruit farm, right by a winery. Oh my.

Andthen from there we drove to Great Wolf Lodge, a site I wasn’t aware of until welanded. This place is ridiculous. With its log-building structure, massivenessand expense, this is clearly Montebello-for-kids. I fear what may happen next.