Welcome to what can only be described as CasVegas, Reno or Blackpool by the sea. A beautiful ride up from Port Stanley with amazing scenery and an almighty drubbing as we rode a thunderstorm, to arrive in what can only be described as a shit hole of neon, arcades, hooker touts (same as Vegas where they hand out cards of local girls) and loud Americans. And as you drive into the city you drive through a town called “Grimsby” (I kid you not)

The falls are spectacular, such a shame the surrounding area is so tacky.

The Falls

The Maid of the Mist (we’re off on that tomorrow, we’ll the Canadian version anyway)

And this is the queue to get into the US (whereas we sailed through from the US to Canada in less than 5 minutes, it’s a 2 hour queue back into the US)

So in the last week we have driven Chicago to Milwaukee, Milwaukee to Muskegon, Muskegon to Lowell, Lowell to Port Huron, Port Huron to Port Stanley and now Port Stanley to Niagara. Total mileage 625 miles on a trike, with my biker babe on the back.

And it’s beautiful.

It used to be one of the main ports of entry into Canada and still has a thriving fishing community. The delicacy of the town is Perch. It can be found in all the restaurants- grilled, fried, breaded, you name it. Our Inn is right at the side of the harbour. It’s pleasant enough but we have stayed in better places (esp for the price).

But the views, the beaches, the harbour walk and the town itself – lovely!!

Ps. The Perch was delicious

A wonderful day spent in Port Stanley (the ole fart town).

Nice food and sunsets with a Womble on the beach

Just look at the pretty view from our room

And the pretty Inn

J’arrive.

Bonjour and welcome to what can only be described as Llangynog in the 1800s! Port Stanley where there are no rocking chairs on the porch, only High comfy care hone chairs.

Tells you something about the place when there are two lanes for traffic, one for cars and one for motorised wheelchairs

Apparently it picks up tomorrow when the “youngsters” arrive (presumably people in their late 60’s)

The little cafe we stepped into actually has a bowl on each table to hold your false set while you suck your soup!

Tent caterpillars of course! Freaky webs all down the highway so I just had to look it up. Eugh!

Welcome to Canada!

Well a super run up the US21 from Lowell up through Flint and St Johns (which according to McGeek is the mint capital).

The last stretch across the I-69 sees us finish at Port Huron the border crossing into Canada on the US Labor Day weekend holiday

Tomorrow we brave the queues to get across on the trike

But tonight saw us caught in the tail end of a thunderstorm as we made our way back from the Texas Steak House, so now it’s wash time

Who knew a holiday could be this much fun!

Interesting fact of the day, Thomas Edison lived here in 1854, selling newspapers, working on the railroad and testing numerous inventions

Read the history of Lowell last night while Mr Fogg slept. Cool book.

Main Street then (circa 1900):

And now:

In response is it better to be pillion or a rider

1. No matter how off key your pillion is, you can’t hear them sing the wrong words to Bohemian Rhapsody
2. It’s just you and the road (oh and a passenger)
3. You can wave at all the totty and you still have the ole lady in case you don’t pull (gonna get a punch for that)
4. The bike sounds and looks awesome and you can hear someone giggling when it vibrates
5. You can still hear someone muttering “tree” like a demented lumberjack on crack, over the sound of the engine
6. You get a hug, just about the time you are waving to totty
7. You can fart all ride long knowing the ole lady is gonna suffer
8. You get jabbed to tell you to turn left and right, but you can still ignore it and repeat number 7, whilst chuckling
9. You do t have to listen to anyone jabber about history
10. You have a hot biker chick with you all the time, to listen to you moan, to help you when you are lost and to hug you (repeat 7 when squeezed too hard)