Last week, I took a few days off from Arabic training and we drove to Eric’s parents’ cottage on Georgian Bay. Although it’s often overlooked in favour of the coasts or the mountains, southern Ontario is (in my admittedly somewhat biased opinion) one of the most beautiful parts of Canada – and after all, it did inspire Canada’s most famous group of artists.
The drive along highway 7 has always been one of my favourite trips, and one I’ve made frequently. Weaving through rocky outcroppings of precambrian rock, silvery lakes, and leafy forests beats any freeway (unless a moose jumps out at you, of course).
We had a great visit – lots of looking at the shore, hiking along the escarpment, and eating way too much food. The dog was (mostly) well behaved, and I only got about a million mosquito bites instead of the usual hundred billion. We spent a bit of time in town, too, at the farmer’s market and a local winery.
I didn’t grow up with a cottage like Eric did, but it’s sure grown on me fast to have a quiet bit of shore to sit on in the summer. It’s a bit sad to think that we might not be back for quite a few years, but we filled up quite nicely on lounging, crosswords, and strawberry pie.
We’re a little more than two weeks away from leaving, and it’s starting to sink in a bit more. I feel more or less ready to go – I can order a coffee in Arabic, I’m reasonably certain that Gatsby will be allowed in the country, and I’ve been eating my weight in strawberries (just in case). Tomorrow I’m going on a mission to find a high-quality buttertart, and Monday will bring the usual Canada Day festivities (we’ll be hanging out at the free museums like the cool people we clearly are).