Hello Toad Fans, it's us again and we're back on the road. It's the Victoria Day weekend here, known to the youth of this parish as "May Two-Four", and the traditional start of the camping season. We've left Do-It-All Dave working on the Kitchen Project and headed north to the lakeside beauty of Point Farms Provincial Park; Ontario's West Coast, no less, even if it's Lake Huron that laps the shore rather than the Pacific Ocean. We even had a bit of a result on the Tadpole front as they're domiciled with Pater this weekend, so it's just me and you and a dog named Boo. Or rather me and Deb and a hound named Willow.
Being ever helpful, we hitched up and headed to the Husky Truck Stop (you have to say that in a gravelly voice) in London and deposited the Tadpoles there (not without checking that Pater was there, first) before striking north. It was sort of on our way so we didn't feel too put out, and it gave us an opportunity to take a different route to Point Farms. The countryside north of London was resplendent in the first flush of spring, and as it undulated a bit, which was different from the billiard table world we live in down in Kent County. The roads, even in the country, are on a strict grid pattern so it was drive north for a bit, take a left and go west for a bit then take a right and go north again. In between the lefts and the rights, the roads are arrow straight, as is their way in these parts.
Even the agriculture was a little different, with real live cows in the fields (as opposed to tobacco and soya), and there were poultry farms every few hundred metres , too. I say poultry farms but they are really just chicken factories; tsk, enough of the social comment.
Curiously, just as we cleared Goderich, Spring seemed to be lagging behind a bit. Sure, it's about 100Km north of London, and lake side so it's a bit cooler, but the difference in the leaf cover on the trees was startling. It had been 20C in London and was now 13C! Still, no rain yet.
Our site ("The Gross" - number 144) is tree covered, flat and spacious, which is nice. Parking and setting up went smoothly and in no time at all we were walking the hound in the gloaming and looking forward to Tortellini Soup. The Victoria Day weekend is traditionally a time for teenagers to go camping and drink themselves into oblivion, which is why our parsimonious Provincial Burghers insist on an alcohol ban on the camp ground for the whole weekend. Pffft I say. The young shaver on the Park's gate who checked us in said "It's to encourage a family environment". I was going to argue the point and suggest that having a glass of wine with your meal was a pretty familial thing to do but I knew he wouldn't understand - and not just my accent. We enjoyed our wine with our meal all the more for knowing that.
It was early to bed for us both, and even the hound slumped down on here bed without complaint. Fresh air, nice food, wine and fresh air always add up to a heap of zeeeeees.
Stay tuned, dear reader, for further adventures!
