Day Six: Toronto to Willoughby

There isn’t much to say about today. We decided to get an early start on today’s drive from Toronto to Willoughby, OH in case we hit some snags (which we did). Perhaps I’ll come back to Toronto one day, but based on my experience thus far, I think Chicago is a much better fit for me.

It took us longer than anticipated to arrive in Ohio due to construction on some of the roads. We took a detour between Pennsylvania and Ohio (thanks GPS unit!) and were able to see some of the countryside towns. Very nice. However, we didn’t get in early enough to see some of the Church history sites on our list, which had to be bumped to tomorrow’s schedule. Once we arrived at Homestead House Bed & Breakfast in Willoughby (a large, late 19th century restored property that operates on a much grander, larger scale than the others we’ve stayed in), we grabbed a bite at the Willoughby Brewing Company (Santa Fe Chicken Salad for me, Bibb Salad and Cheddar Potato Ale Soup for Mom) and ran back through the rain back to the hotel to rest. I think we are wearing out. Speaking of wearing out, I had seven episodes of major hiccups today. The owner of the B&B gave me a spoonful of wet sugar and made me swallow it. Guess what? It works.

My day ended in the bathtub. The room came with a big Jacuzzi bathtub, which seemed super cool. I haven’t taken a bath in years since, well, I’m too big to stretch out in a standard size tub. I poured in some bubble bath stuff and let the water flow (yeah, I know it’s not environmentally friendly to take baths). Once it seemed about right, I settled in and turned on the jets. AAAAH! Not aaaah as in “sigh…this feels nice,” aaah as in “oh no!” Within seconds of operation the jets churned out enough bubbles to send them rolling over the edge of the tub. Sigh. So I turned the jets off and just sat there. I reflected back on all the times I’d seen people portrayed in popular media as relaxing in a tub and I found that I didn’t have a bunch of candles (there was one, but no matches), chocolate covered strawberries (not my favorite anyway), champagne (I don’t drink), someone to make out with (sigh), or a novel to read (mine was sitting back in the car). Boring. I ended up getting so frustrated with my lack of being able to relax that I drained the tub and took a shower instead. Disappointing.

Day Five: Toronto

In retrospect, it may not have been the best idea to stay only one night in Toronto. Mom and I rolled into town shortly after 1pm and by the time we were parked, checked in to the Hotel Victoria (Toronto’s 2nd oldest hotel, built in 1909), and fed, it was a little after 3pm. Hmm. Although Toronto is smaller than Chicago, it still has much to offer and I’m afraid I had circled quite a few prospects in my tour guide book. In order to get the most out of our time, we tried to hit some spots downtown, starting with St. James Cathedral (regal and holy), followed by Toronto’s First Post Office (disappointing), and concluding with the St. Lawrence Market (expansive, sort of). We started off with some gigantic fresh raspberries, followed by a stroll past various vendors of cheese, meat, spice, and other culinary delights. Downstairs, I picked up some coarse Salish smoked salt, which has a delicious smoky flavor, from Selsi Salt Bar.

St. James Cathedral

After stopping by Jamie Oliver’s Wine Bar to see if he was there tonight (he wasn’t, even though the tour guide book suggested that he usually is), we ended up at Terroni (another tour guide book recommendation). We started off with the Funghi Assoluti, composed of baked oyster mushrooms, parmigiano, arugula, and balamic vinaigrette. For the main course, Mom had Rigatoni Arcobaleno, with tomatoes, zuchinni, and romano in a creamy tomato sauce. I had the Pappardelle alla Iosa with homemade spicy sausage, button and oyster mushrooms, peas, parmigiano, and olive oil. Both of us had a wonderful meal and headed back to the hotel in order to get a fresh start on tomorrow.

Day Four: Niagara Falls and Niagara-On-The-Lake

Okay, so Niagara Falls is quite awesome if you do it correctly. Today we had a delicious breakfast of eggs Benedict before hoofing it back over to the U.S. to begin our Niagara Falls tour. Our guide took us to a whirlpool gorge, power plant, Maid of the Mist, Daredevil Museum, and Cave of the Winds. Of these sights, Maid of the Mist and Cave of the Winds were what truly changed my mind about Niagara Falls. The Maid of the Mist boat ride takes you past the American and Bridal Veil Falls into the center of the Horseshoe (also known as Canadian) Falls. The experience of being in rolling, rushing whitewater while all around you walls of water come crashing down is indescribable. Wow! Cave of the Winds provided a similar yet different experience. Both involve ponchos, although the Cave of the Winds tour provided us with sandals (oooh!). In the Cave of the Winds, you climb stairs up to the base of the American Falls and you eventually end up beneath the Bridal Veil Falls on a structure known as the Hurricane Deck (because apparently that’s what it feels like to stand in a hurricane). Mom noticed the hilarious sign on the deck which said “No Smoking.” Um…I don’t think you could manage to light up here.

On the Maid of the Mist

Cave of the Winds

Our return to Canada was preceded by a scoop of Fireball ice cream from the horrendous tourist trap of a building where our tour originated. Back when I was a small fry, I would sometimes get a scoop of ice cream when I went to Harmon’s grocery store with Mom. The name of the ice cream was Firestick, a reference to that old Jolly Rancher candy which was roughly the shape of a candy bar. You can’t imagine how well the heat of cinnamon oil goes with cold, icy creaminess. Since then, I haven’t been able to find it anywhere, and my attempts to make Firestick using my own ice cream maker have fallen flat. So you can imagine my joy and surprise when we found a similar flavor at the ice cream shop. Hooray!

For dinner, we headed up to Niagara-On-The-Lake, a town about 30 minutes north of Niagara Falls. The drive there was beautiful, with groves of green punctuated by bursts of colorful flowers. Our first stop was The Olde Angel Inn, a site that burned down during the War of 1812 and was rebuilt in 1816. It had the feel of a genuine British pub; after all, if those seated around you have Scottish and British accents, it seems as though you can make such a claim. Mom had French onion soup with a Caesar salad, and I had a garden salad (with the best raspberry vinaigrette) with magnificent fish and chips. The fries were crispy and the fish moist and flaky, with the batter light and buttery. Again, wow.

But our evening of wow was just beginning. Earlier this morning we made a last-minute decision to visit the Shaw Festival, an annual local theatre festival celebrating the work of George Bernard Shaw and his contemporaries. We were able to get tickets to The Stepmother, a play written by Githa Sowerby in the 1920s. According to the festival program, “There has been only one previous production of The Stepmother. It took place at the New Theatre, London, on January 13, 1924, staged for one performance only by the Play Actors, a private theatre club.” During a Q&A with the actors after the show, the male lead explained that the piece had been found during a recent visit to the archives in London. Well, what a find. Although written in the 1920s, the themes of gender, marriage, and the importance of communication within relationships evoked in The Stepmother are just as relevant today. The actors performed their roles with such passion, energy, and emotion…it was magnificent. Toronto will be hard pressed to top today.

Day Three: Sacred Grove, Smith Farm, and Niagara Falls

Mom and I got up early to go to the Sacred Grove. No-one else was there, with the exception of a gentleman who walked past us on our way in. Halfway through, Mom and I went our separate ways to pray and reflect upon the events that happened there. The spirit in the grove was pristine and powerful, an experience heightened as the sun broke through the trees after we’d been there about 30 minutes. I took a bazillion pictures, but none of them does the grove justice.

After a breakfast of orange and cranberry muffins, maple ham, and an asparagus, tomato, and onion scramble, Mom and I headed over to the Book of Mormon publication site, where we took a tour of the original bookstore, printing press, and bindery for the Book of Mormon. Many original pieces and components were available for viewing, including much of the existing brickworks, handwritten manuscript, printing materials, and, of course, two first-edition copies of the Book of Mormon. The first round of our church continued with a brief stop at Alvin Smith’s grave and the Martin Harris farm, followed by a drive to the Smith home and farm. It was surreal to see some of the (reconstructed) places Joseph had lived and in which he had hidden the plates during translation.

Grandin Building

Martin Harris Farm

Alvin Smith Gravesite

Smith Log Home

Smith Frame Home

Two hours later, Mom and I arrived in Niagara Falls for our two-night stay at Bedham Hall Bed & Breakfast, Ontario. On our way, we stopped to buy tickets for tomorrow’s tour of the falls. The lady that sold us our tickets was a smooth talker and I couldn’t help but feel a bit swindled. However, we are only here for a short time and I didn’t want to take a chance that we would be unable to see the sights. Sometimes I really wish I had Internet access at home; I could have done more planning ahead without needing to do my travel research at Sinai or DePaul. Nevertheless, we were able to get the tickets and check in at the bed and breakfast just in time. Bedham Hall is a quaint site with a British feel (or at least what I think would be a British feel, having never been to Britain myself). Our room has a little sitting room off to the side that is the perfect place to write my blog.

Mom and I decided to walk down to the falls and have dinner so we could see the purported phenomenon of brilliantly lit falls after dark. Ask dusk approached, we took some photos by the falls and walked through the park alongside the falls. How many times can I use the word “falls” in one paragraph? We’ll see how my prose falls. Turns out I miscalculated both in the distance to the restaurant (Yukiguni) and in the quality of the restaurant. Hey, it was mentioned in the Fodor’s travel guide. Well, Mom wasn’t a big fan, but I did have one of the best spicy tuna rolls I’ve ever eaten. A somewhat disappointing dinner was followed by a severely disappointing walk down Clifton Hill to the sort-of lit falls. Mostly, it looked like there were a few colored light bulbs shining on billions of gallons of water. Sigh. I’m afraid it seems as though Niagara Falls is the Vegas of natural wonders.

Day Two: Peter Whitmer Farm and Hill Cumorah

After a delicious homemade breakfast of banana nut muffins (most amazing ever), peach pecan French toast, eggs, and sausage, Mom and I headed to the Peter Whitmer Log Home in Fayette, NY, where the Church was formally organized on April 6, 1830 in. The log home in which the organization took place has been reconstructed based on models from the time. Church services took place in a beautiful chapel nearby. We were a little late because the GPS unit decided to take us along the scenic route. Hooray! Fortunately, we walked in just in time for the final speaker, who was none other than Ed J. Pinegar. Yes, that guy. You know, the amazing scriptorian/historian/big-ball-of-love-wisdom-and-humor Ed J. Pinegar. Unbelievable. Apparently he’s serving a mission over in Palmyra. He gave the most amazing talk on charity and faith. I could just fill a swimming pool with all the discourses he’s given and swim my way to enlightenment.

After church, we were taken through the Whitmer Visitor’s Center and Whitmer Log Home by a couple of sister missionaries. They shared many stories about the Whitmer family, the three witnesses and the day the Church was organized. The spirit was so strong, especially inside the log home. Upstairs, we saw room a much like the ones in which the remainder of the translation of the golden plates took place.

Mom and I in front of the Whitmer Log Cabin

Room in which the Church was organized on April 6, 1830

On our way back to Palmyra, we stopped for lunch at Blue Ribbon Smokehouse, where Mom and I had chicken and pork smothered with delicious barbecue sauce, coleslaw, French fries, garlic toast, and barbecue baked beans. The sheer volume of food sent us trudging back to Liberty House for a nap. Well-rested and covered with bug spray, we headed to the Hill Cumorah Visitor’s Center, where we sat in a room with a Christus statue similar to the one in Salt Lake, except with a grove of trees behind it. Following a short video about Joseph Smith, Jr.’s search for the truth, we hiked up Hill Cumorah to the Angel Moroni monument. The scenery of the surrounding verdant hills and valleys was spectacular. A black cat with white paws was lounging on the walls of the monument and it took extreme restraint to keep from petting it. I miss my cats!

BBQ at Blue Ribbon Smokehouse

Hill Cumorah

Hill Cumorah Visitor's Center

After hiking back down the hill through a tree-lined path (and the cat followed us down halfway), we stopped for dinner at Brad & Dad’s (a restaurant, not people we know). So-so chicken fingers were chased down by hot fudge sundaes (chocolate almond, Almond Joy, and English toffee for Mom and the same [substituting honey roasted pecan for Almond Joy]) for me. We decided to wash off the bug spray (which was burning our skin…um…) and headed to bed so we could get up early and welcome the day in the Sacred Grove. G’night.

Day One: Salt Lake/Chicago to Palmyra

Mom and I met up at O’Hare en route to Rochester. Once in Rochester, we picked up our rental car: a 2008 Dodge Avenger. What? It’s awesome! We even got a GPS unit to help us on our way which is sometimes helpful, sometimes not. For example, helpful sounds like “Turn right in 20 feet.” Less helpful sounds like “Satellite connection lost.” Both sound like a British nanny.

Once we checked in to the Liberty House Bed & Breakfast, a multi-century home that starts with mid-19th century construction in the back and finishes with early-20th century flair in the front. It’s quite quaint and beautiful. Although we got in too late to do any sightseeing, we drove around a bit to get our bearings. Dinner found us at Yellow Mill Diner for, well, what you’d expect from a diner: a diner dinner of a bacon double cheeseburger and onion rings (me) and a BLT (Mom). Oh, and I got to watch Food Network. Hooray!

Liberty House Bed & Breakfast in Palmyra

Days 9 & 10: Home

I agreed to get bumped from my flight home Monday morning in exchange for a free round-trip ticket (sweet...next year's spring break, here I come!) and ended up staying the night in the airport hotel. I must admit that my adventurous side has finally worn out, as I opted to spend the day watching cable television, eating ice from the ice machine so conveniently located across the hall from my room, and taking naps. Hey, my sunscreen, beach towel, swimsuit, tour books, and everything else is now in Chicago while I sit here with my laptop and $30 in food vouchers.

Some observations from today:
1. "Charmed" isn't a very good show. It's kind of silly. Also, Shannon Doherty wasn't ever really acting on 90210, was she? That's just how she is in real life.
2. There are way too many versions of "Law & Order. "
3. "Dancing With The Stars" has an excessive amount of commercials, which really cuts down on the excitement.
4. Taco Maker isn't as good as I remember it being.
5. Sleeping is better when you aren't directly above a night club.

So that's it, folks. Please return next spring break (or, if you're a Mormon, please return sometime in July, when Mom and I go to church history sites in the Northeast) for more exciting adventures on Travelblog de Steve-O!